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.