So my sister called me today to tell me that my grandmother is in the hospital.  She has some kind of intestinal blockage.  She’s had this before, like seven years ago.  It was very not good.  Anyway, Kim was on her way to the hospital to visit.

Blah blah blah, time passes, and Kim calls me back.  She said she walked into the hospital room, and our grandmother’s face was all bruised and swollen on one side.  She was like, “Holy Mother of God, what the fuck is going on here?”  It turns out that Grandma J had slipped in the bathroom on the little rug in front of the toilet and hit her face on said offending toilet.  I’m like, holy freaking shit, what the hell?  My mom and my aunt are going to Austin tomorrow to help out.  I’m staying here because I have a munchkin and all that.  Bad granddaughter!

Kim said the visit was okay, but Grandma J is in a very testy mood.  One of the doctor’s came in and was asking all these questions, and she goes, “I already answered these questions downstairs, and I’m not doing it again.”  I don’t blame her.  Grandpa G was pretty pissy too because he’s tired.  Kim said there’s a plan in place, but they think they’re going to have to perform surgery.  That’s scary given her age (she’s 85).

The last time this happened, she didn’t say anything to anyone because she was really embarrassed.  She hadn’t gone to the bathroom in like three weeks.  Now, as a fairly regular girl (I say “fairly”, but ask me what I’m doing every morning at 11, ha!), I can’t even imagine how horrible that would’ve been.  Yee-ikes!

I’m pretty grumpy today.  It’s like I was already having a kind of icky day mood-wise, and now I feel bad about being a jackass when my grandmother was in the hospital.  By the way, she went in at 4 am.  I found out at 5 pm.  That’s the information flow in my family.  Fuckers.  I was pissy because my coach is out of town and I hate that (I think that’s been reasonably well-documented).  It’s not like I don’t like working with J because I do, but D is my coach, and it’s just different.  I’m not a fan of different.  My dog’s being an asshole still.  He just doesn’t get that I don’t want him chewing on my clothes and boot heels, and worst of all, my Lion King blanket which is what I cuddled under with my Man-Friend while watching a movie.  It’s now leaking fluff.  I don’t want it to leak fluff.  I want it to be Man-Friend … friendly.  I had an absolutely filthy dream about him last night.  It takes a whole lot to shock me, and I woke up going, “Damn, that was di-ir-ir-ir-ty!”

Speaking of dirty, last night we had our Christmas with my aunt and uncle who live in town but whom we won’t see on Real Christmas.  One of the things my mom got was this really pretty puffy glass heart with a stem sticking up out the middle.  It’s a ring holder, but I took one look and went (in my head, thank you) “Butt plug.”  Then my dad asked what it was, and we told him, and he goes, “Oh, I was thinking ‘suppository insertion device’.”  Yeah, that’s my dad.  We are all class.  I was like, “Dude.  You are sick.  But I was thinking along those same lines.”  He looked totally appalled.  Heh. 

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