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Long Day

Today lasted forever, at least existentially. Who cares about presidents, dead or executed? I battened down the hatches, escaped the fortress and arrived at the condo just as the paramedics found their way in the front door to check out Grampy. He thought he was still in up north and said scary things in a very ungrampyesque way. The sort of things that slide through the air and into your eardrum with ethereal permanence. You inch away from the sharp cloud but it still brushes your arm. I don’t have the fortitude to be in the medical business.

Grampy went to the bad hospital because nobody knew any better and I politicked on the phone for hours (as seems a common but unfortunate byproduct). Hi, fresh off a job for the Princess of Saudi Arabia, was amazingly pulled together. I took Granny to the art store and bought lots of supplies. Then we watched Meercat Manor.

After Grampy finally was released from the ER and settled into a standard bed, I popped in for a visit. I was happy that he smiled and said my name when he saw me. Although his genius mind is dementing, there’s comfort in his recollection of faces and distant memories.


One Response

  1. […] 25th, 2007 by Baby Hatchetface That chest pain that Grampy experienced a few months ago turned out to be a massive heart attack.  So massive, in fact, that the doctors have never seen […]

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