Really? She's in in??

Weird. I guess the solution to every problem is to start a blog telling the tale of said problem and it will go away. No, I don't believe that. But it seemed coincidental to say the least. I started this blog one week ago. In the time that has past between this post and the last my grandmother went down on Saturday, wouldn't get up. Refused to help while being changed I tried giving her time, an albuterol breathing treatment, and knew that nothing was doing it. Of course my dad was home. I don't want to call my parents procrastinators, but I know where I get it from. Anyway he kept saying she isn't a morning person give it time. No you ass, she needs to go to the hospital, was what I wanted to say. But of course, no no no.. Ugh I can't stand that whole 'give it time' theory from someone who is not as involved as the person who should be able to call the shots on something that they understand and know what the daily routine really is. I should have called 911 when the nurse was there. She was even kind of douch-y about it. If someone is not opening their eyes, not giving real responses, and their caretaker says this isn't normal PEANUT BUTTER AND CRACKERS WONT FIX THIS. I think my true problem stems from people not being observant.. What was I talking about?

Oh right, what has happened.

She ended up in the hospital, because a diabetic needs to eat, as does everyone. Elderly anorexia is a big thing. So, she ended up in a home today. Like in a home. Not just a short-term "rehab", "physical therapy" stay. A long term stay. Meaning I can get back to doing whatever a 24 year old does, with no credit, no savings, and no hope of getting a real job in the failing job market of the US. But at least I wont be wiping her ass anymore. I can say I have a better success with not having the person I'm caring for get bedsores than most nursing homes.. But now I really don't know what to do. I can't get a loan for school to continue going for a better degree. I can't move out. I don't even know what sort of job I'll actually manage to get... I'm terrified. But happy. But then I go back to terrified.

Of course her being in the home means that we have to sell her house, that my mom paid for, funny how that works.. And hand over any money in her bank account. But supposedly we need to fix up her house first. There is a point where putting your family first gets out of hand.. I don't know if I reached that yet. I guess tomorrow I can start my feverish job search. I'll have an associates in biology and retail work experience, and great bedside care! So I'll probably end up working for less than 8 dollars an hour serving people who got their lives handed to them because they could take being a narcissistic jackass when they were young, where as I make the mistake of caring.

A start to what hopes to be a near end.

Honestly I know I'm behind the times starting a blog in 2010, I think that was so 2000 or something along those lines. I've realized a possible outlet may help, maybe even distract me from my situation, which isn't terrible compared to lives others are leading by no fault of their own, but because they were born into. I however agreed to this. Despite most people I meet thinking I must be a harsh and cruel person, I really don't think I am. In fact I'm rather pleasant when you get to know me, if you get to know me. The entire experience has obviously taught me a lot. The main thing being never judge someone before knowing them. You can generalize all you one, but don't pick an individual and go through what you think they are like in your mind.

And what situation could one be in to make them think of others so highly? Well it is a little strange.. But I take care of my now 92 year old grandmother. I'm 24, just finishing with an associates in Biology from a local community college and still live with my parents. To be perfectly honest, I know it sounds pretty lame. Though, I also know that people will always to quick to assume and quicker to judge.

When I first started taking care of my grand mom it was a three times a week visit to her house down in the less desirable parts of Philly. She could still get up and make herself food, and would actually managed to go to church on Wednesdays for the free lunch meal. It was obvious it wasn't the best thing for her then. But she really did still have a bit of a handle. Then a really big problem came to fruition. My grand mom loves cats. Really really loves cats. So when an old time friend (as we know now, he stole money from her and pretty much used her), needed a place to stay because 'they' came and smashed his meter and threw him out of his own home, she said yes, to him and approximately 13 cats. This was bad. Really really bad. His name was Norman and honestly, he was one of the nicest people, at first. He would drive my grand mother to church, drive her to the store for groceries. Drive her to the bank. To pay him for gas, and his time. He was paying her rent, that she would end up giving back to him for the absurd amounts of money he would ask for these 'favors'. In addition to all of this he had cats, lots of cats. He fed every stray in the neighborhood. I kept asking my mom and dad to get rid of him, my Uncle complained about him. I was fed up. So I started getting rid of his cats. One by one. No I didn't drowned them in a river, it wasn't their faults that this man couldn't get the hint that he was taking advantage of an old woman on 2 liters of continuous oxygen, who has asthma, COPD, and a slew of other health problems, and can't be around all these cats. I took them to the ACT center on Huntington. Honestly I didn't really feel bad I knew those that had a chance and those who didn't. I believe that domestic animals shouldn't be hoarded, death would be better than that injustice. Plus I had no time to home the animals. According to the site 6 of the 8 I brought were adopted. One had feline leukemia and the other was just a terrible creature. But I knew when this plan would go awry. Kittens..