The parts that I hate.

There are times I really hate the knowledge that comes with the job.

Times I really hate living in Kansas City.

Times like when I get the phone call from my mom telling me that my grandpa fell and is on the way to the hospital and she doesn't know what is going on yet. When she tells me she is going to tell Grandma in person so grandma doesn't freak out.

When the first thing that goes through my mind is fall= broken hip and people with broken hips have like a 75% likelihood of dying in the next 12 months.

Then she tells me he didn't fall, just was so weak he couldn't stand up by himself and when they went to help him he sank to his knees.

The first thing then was... what is his potassium? weakness=low potassium. Or low hemoglobin. GI bleed? CHF flair= we need to know his BNP now.

The thoughts are endless. He is probably okay... trying to talk mom into taking him home cause "he thinks he can walk now". He's alert, oriented.

But in my brain, I think of the things that it could be. And I want to be there. I want access to the blood work, the doctors notes. I want to make sure his nurse knows what she/he is doing.

So I sit here. I pray. I know that if mom says I need to come home, I will be calling in sick to work and driving home. And I thank God every day that I have been blessed to be loved and to love my grandparents for as long as I have, and pray for just a little bit more.