Caregiving 101.

So... for those of you who don't know [which would have to be anyone who stumbled on this site by accident], I am a full-time caregiver for my grandma.

It feels so weird to even say that. I usually just say, "I take care of my grandma." because the term "caregiver" seems to imply unnecessary intensity. I don't have to bathe or change my grandma because, so far, she is able to do those things herself.  I just do everything else.
To me, caregivers do ALLLLLLL of it.


Anyway, my heavens, I can take a step back, look at my life, and realize how much God has taught me, how much He is teaching me, and how much He still needs to teach me& grow me in.



A few things I have learned about taking care of elderly people:

1) LET THEM DO AS MUCH AS THEY CAN. Inversely, be sure to watch them like hawks& step in when necessary.

For example, my grandma had 9 kids and took care of them all, cooked, cleaned, did laundry, etc. She is used to taking care of people and taking care of herself.
I know it kills her to have to depend on me for so much, but the harsh reality is that she's old and she can't do what she once could. That's why I'm here.

She gets much more tired much more quickly than she did even a year ago. A mini-stroke, followed by shingles, followed by the beginning stages of dementia/Parkinson's will do that to a person. Being 81 [in 5 days!] will do that to a person. She's not the lady she was a year ago.

She often feels too tired to cook, even when she wants to. She doesn't have the energy to clean, nor does she like to [luckily, I do]. She usually wants to help with laundry, even though I have banned her from entering the laundry room. There are two sharp-edged brick stairs leading to the laundry room, and she has a walker, and it's just too dangerous for her to try to go up and down those stairs with a walker [she should never be unsupervised around stairs. EVER.], much less trying to balance a laundry basket on the walker.

So, for certain things [like laundry], I make her promise to let me do it. Since I know she still tries to do things she can't, I also watch her like a hawk and listen carefully to the clicking sounds of the walker... If I hear her going anywhere near the laundry room, I run over and grab her things before she can make it up there. She jokes that I'm like her own personal police. Darn straight I am.

For other things, like preparing her coffee or washing dishes, or folding laundry, or putting leftover food into Tupperware containers, as hard as it is for ME to not do those things, I need to let her.
I like cleaning. I don't mind doing laundry. I like washing dishes, I like preparing her coffee, I like folding her laundry& putting it away for her. I want to be helpful, and I want to make sure she's taken care of.

AT THE SAME TIME, I need to back off& let her do things herself. This morning, as I was going to prepare her coffee for her, I caught myself. I told myself, "Natalie. This is easy. She can do it herself. If she/you want to slow dementia, she needs to still do the simple tasks she's able to do." So, I just got up & got her a spoon so she could stir it, after adding the cream& sugar.

Today, when she tried to get me to let her do laundry [which of course I refused, because it is truly dangerous for her to try it, especially alone], I told her she could help me in the kitchen. So she washed dishes, and I helped her cook lunch. I have learned to pick up heavy pots& pans and move them for her. I get things from high shelves that she can't reach. I put things close by so she doesn't have to walk far to get them. I get things from the back fridge if she needs them. I carry cans or bottles that are too heavy or awkward for her to handle. I do anything else she asks me to do.

The rest, I leave to her. It's a challenge for me to remember, because if I'm not doing something, I feel useless. I feel guilty if I'm sitting down and she's washing dishes. I feel lazy if she's cooking something and I'm not helping her.
But I know that, for her, it is much more challenging. After all, if suddenly I had someone in my home, cleaning, cooking, running errands, driving, doing laundry, making my bed, etc. I would so not be cool with it. I'd feel lazy, worthless, bored, and incompetent.

My grandma is slowly losing concentration, short term memory, and clarity of mind. She is by no means "crazy" or slow, but she is cognitively-impaired. It's weird. It's surprising. It's scary. She is my grandma, whom I've been close to my entire life, and who has NEVER had mental problems. She's always been a sharp thinker, quick witted, and creative. She still is all those things... but I can definitely tell that there is a decline. She forgets things she's known all her life, she becomes confused when telling stories, and she gives wrong directions.


However, she can still carry on conversations& think/speak clearly... it's just that I notice a difference, because of how well I know her. Since she's still competent to do things for herself, I need to let her do everything she can, so it's something she will not lose. The less she is able to do, the more discouraged or depressed she can become. It's understandable. If I suddenly broke my leg and was in a cast, and was unable to care for myself, or get up and move around, I'd be MISERABLE. That's what I have to remind myself when I have a hard time letting go of something, or allowing her to do things that I think might be too much for her.

I figure I can just stand close by, and if she appears to be struggling doing something, I can help her. If she starts to trip or lose her balance, I will be close enough to help or catch her. If she can't pick something up, I can be right there to move it for her. Otherwise, I can just stand and be available, and keep her company, and help HER, rather than doing everything for her.


2) LEARN AS MUCH AS YOU CAN.

My grandma had a mini-stroke back in August. Then she had shingles in September. I know she has high blood pressure, and is on blood thinners. She has a moderately low pulse, which isn't a problem in itself, but can produce problems in the future, if it isn't properly monitored.

When my grandma tells me of symptoms or problems she's having, I call the doctor and make an appointment for her, or Google it, so I can have a better understanding of what it is/could be. I often read and reread the symptoms of a heart attack... Heart attack warning signs manifest themselves differently in women than in men.

I read up on nutrition, and am aware of what my grandma should and should not be eating, as well as what can interfere with her medications. She's not supposed to have too much coffee, so I have to be the bad guy who regulates it and tells her, "Not today. Your blood pressure is too high." It's kind of a bummer, but we joke about it, and I make her hot chocolate to lessen the blow. :)


3) REALIZE THAT YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE

I am a responsible adult, and I find it easy to take care of myself, to buy/cook foods that are safe for me to eat, keep all necessary items stocked, keep my laundry under control, change my sheets often, and stay on top of all of my bills. However, being responsible for another ADULT is really challenging.
Oftentimes I hope that my "responsibility" is not coming off as seeming disrespectful.

Like I said about the coffee/food, I have to tell my grandma what she can and can't eat, or when she can and cannot have it.

Perfect example: The other day we were deciding what to do for lunch. I told her that we had a LOT of leftovers from cooking the day before, plus leftovers my grandpa had from eating out. We decided he& his caregiver could have leftovers, so food wouldn't be wasted. I told my grandma that I had chicken tortilla soup in the Crockpot, and she said that's what she wanted for lunch. However, when we got home& I started serving her, she decided she wanted to have hot chocolate & cookies for lunch. Hahahahahaha.

I seriously laughed, because she reminded me of 6 year old me, and how I would try to convince my parents to let me have ice cream for breakfast. I told her, "Nope, I'm sorry. You need to eat the soup. It has vegetables & even though I know you don't eat chicken, the broth has a lot of nutrients. The home care nurse told you that you need more fresh food in your diet, and less carbs. You can have cookies after, but you need to eat this first or you'll fill up on dessert."

So I took the cookies& put them away, and served her lunch, and brought the cookies back when she was finished eating. I felt SO WEIRD. I felt like I was mothering her, and I hated it, because she's the one who used to take care of me! I was so hoping I hadn't overstepped my boundaries, but I also realize that it's my responsibility to provide logic in a situation.
If my grandma eats nothing but carbs and sweets, she will get sick, possibly develop diabetes, raise her blood pressure AND blood sugar, and feel lethargic.

I know a lot about nutrition, just because I read at least a few health/nutrition articles each week, and because I've studied it in college& plan to major in nutrition. I've done a LOT of research on Type 2 diabetes and high blood pressure, since my grandpa has had both for years. There is much I don't know, but I'm pretty darn good at finding reputable articles online, so I educate myself  as much as possible. My grandma doesn't know those things.
It's my responsibility to tell her about them, share them with her, and intervene if she is neglecting or forgetting them.

It's just so hard to go from being the child to suddenly feeling like the parent. I still very much respect my grandparents, and treat them with respect... but saying "No" to them or making decisions for them is unnatural to me.



4) BE AVAILABLE & ANTICIPATE NEEDS.

This is pretty self-explanatory, and I've mentioned it above. In living here and taking care of my grandparents [my grandpa first, and now only my grandma], I have to anticipate their needs or reactions when I do something. If my grandma asks me if there are clean sheets, it's because she wants to change the ones on her bed. If I don't do it for her, I know she will take them off her bed, take them to the laundry room, wash them herself, and make her bed. I also know it's dangerous for her to try to do that alone, and that making her bed without help will seriously tire her out.

So, when she goes to have breakfast, I grab the sheets, throw them in the washing machine, and be sure to put new sheets on her bed before she comes back to lie down in the afternoon.
If I'm going to be out of town for the weekend and her prescriptions are running low, I order them before Friday, so I can have her pill boxes filled& ready for her for the weekend.

When I was younger-- high school & in Bible college-- I used to pray often for the sharp observation to anticipate needs before people asked. I'm glad God answered that prayer, and is still answering it in my daily life today. If I can do things for people before they have to ask, things run much more smoothly. For that reason, I've often thought I'd be a great secretary or personal assistant. Right now I'm kind of both. :)





5) REMEMBER THAT YOU CAN'T DO IT ALL.

This is probably the most important thing I am currently learning. Sometimes I feel like I don't do enough, or that I'm not fun enough, because I'm so focused on taking care of serious needs, or because I'm having to make decisions about my grandma's health. Sometimes I feel bad that I want/need to leave here every weekend or that, come 7 pm, I disappear downstairs until 7 the next morning. But I need that to remain sane.

I need time to myself. I need time to be active. I need time to ACT MY AGE, and not be doing everything at the pace of an 80 year old woman. While I'm with her, yes, I walk slowly, I do a lot of waiting, and I help her with a lot. It's good, it's necessary, and it's what's best for her.
But when I'm by myself, I can do things normally... and that in itself keeps me feeling like "me".

Getting away on the weekends and visiting family& friends is something that [while it puts a lot of miles on my car], makes me happy, gives me support, provides great conversations& perspective, and just allows me to invest in and benefit from great relationships. I am able to go to my own church, and to talk about what God is teaching me, and to listen to others about their lives& what God is doing for them, and to pray with/for others, and to spend time with Jesus and give time to serving others AND resting.
THAT is what recharges me. It is not bad that I need time away from my grandparents, or time at home with family and friends, or time away from family and friends and ALONE with Jesus. Those are normal, good, necessary needs. Before I can love people, I must love Jesus... and I love Him because He first loved me.... Therefore, in order to love Jesus, I must realize I am loved by Him. And the way that happens is by reading His word, spending time in prayer, talking to Him, listening to Him, worshiping Him with my voice and with my actions, etc.


It's all very normal. And it must be embraced, not rejected. First, I need Jesus.
Second, I need people. People to support me, and people whom I can support. Jesus came not to be served, but to serve. However, we serve Him, too. And I need to not think, "No, I have to serve YOU in order for this to work." Sometimes God wants other people to serve, and sometimes you're the recipient. So when people want to help me out, or do something nice or helpful for me, I need to not try to do it myself, but accept it.


Yup. I can't do it all. Nor do I need to. Nor should I try. God put billions of people in this world, to be interconnected and interdependent with. We don't depend on people for our worth, joy, or fulfillment... JESUS came to give life, and life more abundantly.
But we do depend on others for basic needs& enjoyment... I am seriously overjoyed to share my life with the incredible people God has placed in my path--- but my joy in, need for, and love for people should never exceed my joy in, need for& love of Christ.

He always wins. He is better. He is FIRST. And He must always remain first if I want to continue to enjoy people in a way that honors Him. 

Attacked.

Good golly Miss Molly.

The spiritual attacks started when I got here on Friday night. I was so excited to come home for this weekend, to celebrate my best friend’s birthday, and to spend ALL THE REST of the time praying, reading, listening to podcasts, and preparing for the retreat… I’m going to be sharing my testimony in a girls’ only session, and I’m freaking nervous. 


Anyway, Friday was decent, but my mom wasn’t having the greatest day, and was just tired& stressed& overwhelmed, so I didn’t even get to have the conversation with her that I wanted to have. I just cleaned up& tried to help her out and tried to stay out of her hair, so she could focus on all the other stuff she had to do. However, my mind was reeling, and I was just overanalyzing EVERYTHING and jumping to conclusions like crazy... All inward. I never let on what was going on in my head, because I knew it was far-fetched, but Friday was just not the best day. 

On Saturday, both my parents were busy, and I was reading my Bible and praying most of the day, preparing my notes, and listening to some podcasts. Went to PF Chang’s for dinner to celebrate Audrey’s birthday with a bunch of friends, and went to BluEmber to have coffee & dessert afterward. Overall, it was a pretty good night. I'm glad I have weekends off so that I can drop everything & come to town for important events... I have some of the most fantastic people in my life. Family& friends alike. 


But last night I had the MOST terrible, terrible dreams. Just bad. Every dream I had was in some way really discouraging or deceptive or scary or had me fearing for my life/safety. Like, literally dreams of men coming in& out of my bedroom, and me having to hide from them. HORRIBLE. 

Now, I KNOW that when Christians are growing, getting to know Jesus more, and being available to be used by Him, satan attacks us. He pulls out all stops and does whatever he can to infiltrate our minds, hearts, and lives.


Well, Exhibit A is me, ladies and gentlemen…


I feel incredibly discouraged, and disqualified, and underprepared, and just plain worthless. Like I can’t do anything right. Like I try so hard to please everyone that I end up failing miserably and pleasing NO ONE. 
Like my best efforts are never good enough, and like no matter how much I prepare, I will be no means be ready to share anything important with the high school girls on Saturday. 


I know—- I mean, I KNOW—- that these are lies that are literally from the pit of hell. Jesus has saved me, forgiven me, and redeemed me. He loves me, He cherishes me, and He has put His worth& identity in me. So much so, that God can look at me and see a beloved daughter, not a repulsive woman.  

Whatever God wants to share from my life, to these girls, He will. As terrified as I am, I’m allowing Him to do that. And as for the less-than-desirable conversations that need to happen, I know God is in that, too. He is in the details. He cares about the smallest things… Those details that no one asks about. The details that no one knows about. The things that, to me, seem so amplified and overwhelming, He puts into perspective. He reminds me that He is with me, and that NO MATTER WHAT PEOPLE THINK, He knows me— the real me— and He is my defense. And He loves me and finds me precious, therefore people’s ideas or opinions of me don’t matter as much as I think they do. 

I am His. He has inscribed me on the palms of His hands, and He looks upon me with love, tenderness, and concern. No matter what kind of crap satan is going to keep throwing at me, he cannot win. Jesus has won, He reigns [CURRENTLY] victorious, and He is greater, stronger, and higher than any other. 
Because Jesus is my Anchor, I cannot be moved. 


“The degree to which you enjoy the praise of people is the same degree to which their criticism will wreck you.”
-Britt Merrick

Faithful.

Well, I've fallen off the writing wagon.
Actually... I guess I never "fell" off... I just jumped off on purpose.

These last 6 and 1/2 months of my life have been INSANE.
Honestly, so-so-so-so-SO much has happened, that I could never fully write it out, or I'd be here for... well, 6 and 1/2 months.

If we're good friends& we hang out, there's a chance you know at least 50% of my stories. If not, don't worry about it. If they were incredibly necessary to be shared with the public, I would've blogged/emailed them long ago.

The easiest way to put it is: I have been learning to become more like Jesus. And, as God is my witness, it is hard as hell. Because, in striving to become more like the Savior who died to bring me into His loving arms, satan and all his damn demons rally against me, discourage me, and speak lies to me.

As Jesus told me, "Be patient. You CAN. You just need to practice." I was overwhelmed by my own thoughts of, "This is impossible. The situations I'm in are impossible. My family is impossible. I think it's everyone's aim to push me to my limit, and I CAN'T DO THIS!" and of couuuuuuuuurse, that's right when I would hear my enemy lying to me, saying, "You can't do this. You're too weak. Too selfish. Too self-consumed. They ARE impossible, and you shouldn't have to be patient with them. Look how you're treated. Listen to what people say of you. They don't deserve love. They don't deserve kindness."

I mean, HELL!

So many inner battles, as my flesh fought so hard against my spirit. Oftentimes, it was like how the apostle Paul says-- he didn't do what he meant to do, and what he didn't want to do is what he ended up practicing.
There were days when I felt like the worst person in the whole world, because I would be SO impatient, or easily frustrated, or would just stop talking because I had no idea what to say-- or how to say it nicely.

Fast-forward to the end of December:

By that time, things were going somewhat better. I've learned a lot about myself, and am continually learning more& more. It bums me out to not feel appreciated. I think most people are this way... but I know people have different values, and different levels to what/how they value.

I am an appreciative person. I enjoy the little things. When people take notice of the small details, I'm pretty much thrilled. There have been several instances now when friends have brought my favorite drink to me at work, and each time I have been incredibly surprised& just plain grateful. 

Once a customer went out of her way to Starbucks, to bring me a dairy-free, sugar-free Frappucino... I was shocked. 

Completely shocked. 

I was SO deeply thankful to her, and probably told the story to at least 30 people. Her kindness amazed me, especially since she's not a Christian, nor was she doing it to look good. She just has a kind heart.

All that to say, even though I don't like when people thank me profusely or publicly [because I feel REALLY awkward& put-on-the-spot, and just get embarrassed], I like knowing I'm appreciated... I like knowing that what I'm doing is not being done in vain.


There was a good, long season here where I felt completely unappreciated. Like nothing I did was good enough, or enough to be noticed, or enough to be told "Thank you" for. It was rough, and it was wearing on me, and I needed time away to reprioritize &refocus, and to realize that, if I'm doing things to serve God, who gives a rip if I get commendation from people?


By the end of December, I was so unbelievably ready to go home for a week. I left on Friday evening [the 23rd], and stayed in Yucca until New Year's day. The time away was exactly what I needed. I had a few days to spend with Clay& Jen [brother-in-law & sister, in case you forgot], my parents, my best friends, some friends I'd lost touch with, old classmates whom I graduated with... It was just a great time being home.



However, I found out [on Christmas, lamely enough] that BOTH my grandparents fell on the same night. I left on Friday, around 7 or 8 pm. My grandpa fell out of his bed at 11pm and, since he is not able to use his arms due to some severe nerve damage, he wasn't able to get himself up. He called and called for my grandma, who was asleep, but then SHE fell in the bathroom at 3 o'clock that morning. She dragged herself back to her room, too weak/tired to lift herself up. They both stayed on the floor, in their own rooms, until my uncle came at 8 o'clock the next morning.


Before that point, we had all thought my grandparents were fine on their own at night. I'm there for them through the week, but leave most weekends, and they had been staying by themselves. When I left home to come back to LA, I knew I was going to have to start sleeping upstairs on the main floor.


One of the most comforting things for me, after a long & sometimes really frustrating day, is to be able to escape to my own little grotto [seriously, if you saw my room & "living room", you'd realize the term fits perfectly]. It's nice to be able to go downstairs, unwind, read a book, exercise, watch a movie, do crafts, write, or whatever. It's been my place to unwind and to escape. Realizing that was going to be taken away from me was REALLY hard to accept.


During the entire week I was at my parents' house, I was battling it. I was trying to think of ways I could still sleep downstairs and be "available" to my grandparents.[Impossible.]
I thought of removing the doorbell and giving it to my grandma, so she could ring me if/when she needed me. [I quickly realized that, in an emergency, she likely wouldn't be able to reach the bell, nor be able to respond].
I thought of sleeping downstairs, but setting an alarm to wake up& check on them a few times a night. [Impossible, because I'm a light sleeper... an alarm would shock me awake& probably keep me from going back to sleep].
I thought of the possibility of getting someone else to come here at night to keep an eye and ear on them.

During my week off, they got these "First Alert" bracelets where, if something happens, they need to simply push a button on the bracelet, which will call an emergency service, who will then come check on them.
--- aaaaaaaand I realized how worthless I would feel, to be here& force my grandparents to call someone else from OUTSIDE the house, just because I'm selfish and I like my space, privacy, and alone time.

One morning, I was just talking to God and telling Him all about my frustrations and confusions and fears about the whole thing. It's scary to realize I'm often the only one in the house, and to wonder if I would respond quickly& correctly to an emergency. Or to wonder if I'm going to walk in to find my grandparents injured-- or worse-- after having a nasty fall.


As I was just airing my thoughts, frustrations, feelings, and ideas to God, He spoke so quietly, but so clearly.
I asked Him, "God... What is it that I need to do? What is holding me back from wanting to do this? What do I need to give up? Why is this so hard for me?"

His answer? "Individualism. And control."

Wellllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllllll, now that's just not what I wanted to hear.
But it was true.

I remember my pastor in Spain, Rafael, teaching a sermon on individuality vs. individualism.
Individuality is embracing who you are, your strengths& weaknesses, your differences, your talents& gifts, and using them in the body of Christ. 
After all, all body parts are individual& different, but we all make up one entire body, correct? 
Individualism is being too consumed with being a single entity, being your own, having one specific identity and not wanting to be stifled, changed, overshadowed, or influenced by another. Individualism idolizes differences, so much so that it keeps cohesion& familial qualities at bay.


If I were simply gladly an individual, I would have no problem changing my habits& routine in order to accommodate my grandparents, especially since this is what is best for their health& safety.
But Individualistic Natalie was having a very hard time swallowing this information, because I wanted to stick my head in the sand, stick to my own plan& format, and try to push the responsibility onto someone else, claiming, "I'm human! I need to sleep! I can't do it all, and I can't work 20 hour days!"

Well... No one's asking me to stay awake all night long, listening to my grandparents breathe. The point is to be close& readily available to help. And, since I am such a light sleeper, it's better that I'm close to them, rather than downstairs where I can't hear a dang thing.


Needless to say, when I was leaving Yucca to come back to Los Angeles, I. WAS. BUMMED.


I'd had such a fantastic week off with my most loved ones, and had been able to relax, and spend time with others while also taking time for myself, and was able to just make plans on the fly.
I was dreading coming back to LA, because I didn't know what awaited me, and I was scared that my grandparents' situation had gotten much worse while I was gone. I didn't know how I would adjust to my new decision to WILLINGLY move into the guest room, without someone twisting my arm, but knowing that if I didn't have a sense of responsibility, I wouldn't have done it.


And you know what? God is wonderful. He is kind. He is compassionate. He is love. He is protective.
And He never tells us to bite off more than we can chew, nor does He throw us into situations that He has not first equipped us for.

I have adjusted incredibly well. I still go downstairs at about 6 or 7pm, and I exercise, or read for awhile, or clean. Then I come back upstairs at like 10 or 11, check on my grandparents, and continue my evening up here. There's a TV in my room, so I can still watch movies, or I can read, or color [Yes, I love coloring books. That'll never change.]. Also, just knowing that my grandma feels safer having me next door is worth it.
Really, it is.

Finally, I was just told this week that my grandparents have hired a family friend to take the night shift. My grandpa cannot use his hands, and his arms are like dead weight, because of nerve damage that led to carpal tunnel syndrome. Also, he is having a harder time using his legs, probably from atrophy due to wheelchair use.
He gets up a few times to go to the bathroom at night, but my grandma can't help him, and he doesn't want me helping him [which, honestly, is a relief], so this man will be here for my grandpa, to help him with whatever he may need through the night.

SO... I get to have my room back! He will stay in the room I'm in now, which will put him right between my grandparents' rooms. If my grandma needs me at night, he can ring my doorbell& I can help her.

It's still 2-3 weeks away, but even knowing that this is just a short season makes it easier... and I'm not bearing this with a frown or a glare, but with a smile on my face[honestly, ONLY by the power Jesus has to change hearts, minds, & priorities]. 

And I realize that God gives grace. He is kind, and He looks at the heart, not at the outward demeanor. I believe that He was testing me in this, to see if I'd give it up to Him and let Him work in this situation. By His grace, by His love, and by the beautiful picture of Jesus Christ and His all-reaching love, I did give it to Him.
And now He's turning things around.


...But not without a lesson. I first had to learn-- AND MUST KEEP LEARNING-- that life is not about me. It is not about my plans, my individuality, my space, my ideas, or what makes me happy.
Life is about Jesus Christ, about loving Him& being more like Him.
And what is He like? He loves God more than anything. While on this earth, He laid aside His identity AS Lord and He did what God wanted Him to do and spoke what God wanted Him to say. 
Lastly? He loves people. 
Recklessly. Selflessly. Completely. In totality. With nothing lacking. Generously. Joyfully. Excitedly. 

And THAT is how I want to love people. Always. In every capacity, whether they're nice to me or not. Whether they have the same beliefs& opinions as me or not. Whether they love God or not. Because He loves, and He is attractive, and He is irresistible... and hopefully by loving people in a way that is honoring to Him, people will come to know Him and love Him as He deserves.

He is WORTHY. 






[Also, I wrote this blog last night, which was Wednesday. Today [Thursday] at 1 am, I woke up to an alarm we have called 'First Alert' which is for my grandparents, in case they fall or injure themselves and no one hears them. I checked on both my grandparents, and it was my grandpa who had fallen, so I talked to the operator and she told me she'd send an ambulance. I had tried lifting him, but he weighs more than I do, PLUS he's dead weight... I almost sprained my back trying. The EMT's were here within 10 minutes, checked his vitals& everything, and helped him into bed. He's completely fine... No broken bones, no injuries, no concussion, nothing. THANK GOD. We were all just shaken up, but, again, this is further confirmation that it's good that I sleep upstairs for the time being! Holy moly.]