There has been chaos in my life once again.
I was due to be working from Monday until Saturday this week.
Yesterday at 3pm, Dave got a phonecall and walked out of his room. I rang the dentist to confirm my appointment for today. Dave came back in, silent, and moved me on the bed and wrapped himself around me. I hugged back and my phone rang with a call from my mum.
She got 20 seconds into the call before breaking down.
On Sunday (when I spoke to her) and on Monday (when I spoke to dad), they had told me that my granny hadn't been doing so well. Her health's been worrying all of us for a while but she was still going strong. Last week the doctor gave her really strong morphine tablets. They really knocked her for six. She wasn't herself and became acting as if she were drunk or stoned.
My dad didn't like her colour on Monday night.
She took a turn on Tuesday afternoon. My auntie Sue went to see her and couldn't get in the door. The boy from next door who does her messages said he'd shouted into her earlier and got no response. She was slumped in her chair.
They boosted him through an open window and he let them in. My dad was flagged down on the road as he was driving past. They rang the ambulance and got her on the floor.
She had flatlined by the time the rapid response and the ambulance was there. My mum arrived. Granny was making a rattling noise when she breathed. They brought her to hospital and got her back.
Mum rang Dave and then me. She didn't tell me that I had to come home but it wasn't an option. I sobbed and pulled clothes on and Dave told my boss what happened and came back to my house and helped me pack. He rang his dad to find out the next flights back to Belfast. We got in a taxi to the aiport. At 4.20 I bought a one-way flight to Belfast, leaving at 5.20. I was in bits. Dave held me and kissed me and tried to make me smile.
He told me he loved me for the first time as we walked to security.
I came home and got a bite to eat with mum and went straight to the hospital.
We were there from 7.30 until midnight.
They think she may have had a stroke. The right side of her face was droopy and her speech was slurred. She's on 98% oxygen. They believe she has pneumonia or a chest infection. If anything kills her, it'll be that.
My (great) Uncle Stan flew in from Peterborough a few hours after me and stayed at her side with my dad last night.
She woke up a few times yesterday when I was there. Most of the time her speech was unintelligble. She had a lucid patch with me and mum, asking why she was in hospital, was that Kathryn, what happened to her.
Later in the evening, she reached up and cupped my face and looked at me for a minute.
She also repeated a few times during the course of the evening, "I'm going to die."
That's all I have to say. I'm going back up to hospital now with my dad and we're going to sit with her again.