Alive & Kicking

Yeah, I've been quiet lately. Bet you wish you knew what I was up to? (Enigmatic smile...)

My Grandma's in the hospital. Now, she's 94 (almost 95) so that's not all that surprising. She's at that age where stuff starts to happen. Actually, she's way beyond that age. She's well into the "wow" age, when people look at her like she's crazy when she tells them how old she is, 'cause she looks 80- trust me, at 94, that's a complement- and she's still the same person inside that she was at 25. (Sidenote: the phrase "sharp as a tack" is just as offensive as "pretty good for a girl" and I refuse to use it. So there.)

Grandma can kill snakes with a hoe, knows how to fire a shotgun, and once stayed in her bed (rather than going to the basement) during a tornado because she didn't figure it would be a bad way to go. In short, Grandma kicks ass.

So, as I said, Grandma's in the hospital. She's doing well and will be home soon so we're not really concerned. She had an uber close call a couple of years ago and we all discovered the ugly reality that is Being Old in America- aka "sign this form so we don't have to take care of you very well because you're old and taking up space and don't you want to not be a burden to your children?"

They came at her with the form again when she got to the hospital. They wanted her to sign the DNR and the Living Will stating that they shouldn't go to extreme measures and they gave her the "don't be a burden" speech and good old Grandma told them in no uncertain terms to go to hell. She draws the line at persistent vegetative, but otherwise she figures that she worked hard taking care of everyone else for most of her life and if she wants to be a burden then she'll damn well be a burden and the people around her should thank her for the chance to serve.

Now that's what I call badass.