I wasn't really sure how I was going to write about this earlier. Either serious or joking; a story of teamwork or horror. Instead, it'll just come out as it does.
     The next day. Today. Tonight. Tonight, I went to my grandparents' house for dinner. We ordered barbeque from Tony Romas and sat down to a casual dinner. About three quarters through what would have been the meal, my grandfather started choking on a piece of beef rib.

     See, my grandfather has a serious type of brain cancer/tumor. He's been fighting it for almost two years now and has, well, as much as a normal person can, been kicking it's ass. There's been ups and downs, but at least for his spirit (and sense of humor) alone, my grandpa, Poppy is my hero. Totally.

     Anyway, because of his condition, my grandfather has a little trouble speaking/feeling part of his body.

     This, in turn, lead to his choking. More into the action now, Poppy was choking for about a minute before we decided that something was really wrong. So, in some hard-core, frantic, team-work, terror style, we all took our positions. My father and Jason, my grandfather's care taker, began trying the Heimlick Manuver. My mother called 911 and ran my dad through a more proper version of it. Now, throughout all this, I just kind of stood and watched, frozen, deciding I couldn't really help with two other guys already helping.
     Around here, my version gets more paniced. As I looked on, nothing has probably scared me more than this. Just this look my dad gave. I've never seen my dad more paniced, even horrified. And his face is all sweaty and criged up. And he just says, "Oh god." And my grandfather is deep, dark blue and no help is around. And I, inwardly at least, freak out. Upon someone else telling me to (I don't know who.), I run downstairs to find the ambulence and guide it in. I'm quietly freaking out and I just want to, like, run full-on until this thing turns out okay. So, I guide the paramedics into the building and up. (After getting a key from a nice woman outside. [We were locked out.]) And when I get back, there's blood on the floor and so is my grandpa. So, I just follow my grandmother to the bathroom; to comfort her, I think I was thinking.

     Anyway, we get to the hospital and are treated to a two hour wait with no feedback. Eventually, we find out my grandfather is passed out, upstairs in ICU. By the time I got there, he was just starting to become responsive. Shaking his head weakly to answer things and gripping my mom's hand to answer. We weren't sure at first he was answering.
     Anyway, (er, again), my grandfather, father, and grandma are still at the hospital now. The doctor says that brain damage is more than probable. And, after all my grandpa's had to go through that's the last thing in the entire world I want for him. We broke his DNR, apparently, when he was treated, but I can't say I'm sorry at all after having him respond to me. Us. Total, my grandfather was probably choking for maybe ten minutes, no air. I'm kinda halfway terrified for him still. He's really a genius, intelligent man, and I'd hate for anything else to occur.
     But, writing this is probably only freaking me out more. Whoever reads this little post, just pray, or hope, or send wishes, or whatever for Poppy.
     I was gunna write about my whole weekend here, the great part that started it. Remind me to type that tommorow, I guess. When more in a correct state of mind. Remind me. Dancing, Disneyland, Magic, and more.
     I'm taking a nap.

�

---Danny