April 10, 2011

My grandma says hi.

My grandma's doctor decided to admit her to the hospital for testing on Friday (her feelings about which are illustrated above).  He hoped that the tests would make clear why she sometimes works so hard to breathe, yet her blood oxygen levels are always completely normal.  It was determined that her lung tumor is taking up space in an upper lobe, and that makes her feel like she's not getting enough air (even though she is).

That makes sense.  And it sucks.

It's hard to be a caregiver.  Sometimes my brain is a big tumble o' guilt/anger/sadness/hope/frustration/fear/sympathy/resentment/loyalty/exhaustion.  The love never goes away, but everything else flashes in and out.

Caregiver whiplash.


  1. All I have to say is that when I am her age (Lord willing I get there) I hope someone takes care of me like you take care of her.

  2. I really like your blog, Danielle! (I'm the swimming pigs on Blog Frog who liked your comment re: posting every day.) I help take care of my grandpa 4 days a week. He and his wit are sharp as a tack, and we enjoy "inappropriate" humor, too! When he teases me, I joke that I'm going to put dried-up corn husks on his grave (he was a corn farmer growing up).