The waiting game

My grandma had a massive stroke this morning. As of 8pmish, she was lying flat in a hospital bed, unable to move anything on her right side, unable to speak, and basically only communicating by using her left hand to squeeze someone else's. Her doctor told my mom that if (and thats a big if) she makes it through the next 24 hours, they will have to bring in hospice, and consider putting in a feeding tube, because of course she can't swallow. But my grandmother has a living will and all that, and has already decided, no feeding tubes, she has a DNR order (do not resuscitate) and all of that stuff. She decided a while ago she wouldn't live as a vegetable. Which I respect. But I fear that means she will just be gone soon. Granted, we've been told like 8 times in the past year to say goodbye. But just seeing her, this is different. I'm not sure she really recognized me, but I think so. She seemed to know who everyone was, just couldn't tell us that. Uncle A is here too, and most likely Jenny and the girls will come tomorrow. If she makes it to then. I feel really bad because she was so worried about me yesterday, because I had some stupid lupus fever and sickness, and she was all worked up, and I just hope to God I didn't stress her out and do this to her. Not that I could have helped it. It came out of nowhere and knocked me out, like it always does. But I feel horribly. I'm trying not to stress and be worried and sad, because that will just trigger more of my bullshit, but it is hard not to. I'd have to be soul-less. and I'm not. So for now I'm just waiting. And hoping. I think in some ways, it would be better. But it doesn't mean I want her to go. I don't know. I'm a mess. Sorry to depress.