And not just because of what you are thinking (as if my mother dying weren’t enough).

My day started out great – I’ve been in a good mood, I haven’t cried in two whole days (tears in my eyes don’t count) – I even tweeted that I was smiling.

But it seemed The Gods of March 2009 decided to give us one more kick in the ass before leaving for good.

At around 1:30 pm I got a call from my grandfather who said, “I’m going to join your mother, take care of your grandmother.”

You know those TV shows where people say they could feel the blood drain out of their body? It’s an actual feeling – take my word for it.

At first, I thought he was going to hurt himself. He’s OK most of the time, but they just lost their daughter, and they don’t work all day like we do – they have much less distractions – so I’m used to hearing him cry, but this was new.

Once I got a few more words out of him, I could tell his speech was slurred – it wasn’t just crying. I asked him to put my grandmother on the line – which he did – and she told me he seemed to have had a small stroke, but he won’t let her call an ambulance.

At this point I’m thinking, “Dear Universe, if this is your idea of an April Fool’s joke, then 1) it’s not April 1 yet and 2) it’s not funny. You suck.”

It took about 5 more hours until we could get him to go to the hospital. Considering we’ve already had more than our share of hospitals for 2009 (my 27 year old sister was admitted the day before my mom back in January with an enormous blood clot in her leg), I can’t blame his lack of desire to submit to all those tests.

On the other hand, I’m thinking, “Just because you bought plots by Mom’s grave, doesn’t mean you need to use them now. I’m almost positive they don’t come with an expiration date.”

My grandfather, who turns 90 in May, is actually a very healthy man. He only takes meds for high blood pressure and that’s it. He has no diseases, is on a regular diet where he can eat anything my grandmother will allow him to eat (I call it the “You Know Who Wears the Pants in this House” diet), and doesn’t even have allergies. He has had a stroke before, though, about 10 years ago, when he was 80, back when he was young. But nothing happened then.

I was at the hospital until half past midnight with my grandparents, getting him through the CT scan which came out normal, and then getting him admitted, which took about a year.

He’s fine: His right eye and the right side of his mouth were drooping a bit in the evening, but not as bad at midnight when the doctor, Diego (no relation to Dora), came to see him. His speech was almost back to normal, a big feat considering 1) it was midnight – which is known to be the 4th time he gets up to pee at night and 2) he didn’t have any teeth in (don’t tell him I told you that).

All in all, he is going to remain in the hospital tomorrow and, most likely, tomorrow night, too.

This comes at a particularly bad time since tomorrow marks 30 days since my mother died, and we have to go to the cemetery for the unveiling of the gravestone.

At least we know he’s feeling better and back to his really bad jokes (hopefully all will be OK tonight).When Diego (no relation to Dora) asked him if he’s sensitive to anything, he answered, “only 17 year old girls.”

I think he’ll be fine.

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