February 8th, 2003

flesh

Grandma's a Space Cadet

I don't know whether it's the drugs she's been given to control the pain or maybe the cancer itself but since 4am this morning my Gran's been tripping the light fantastic. She's holding conversations with people who aren't there and sighing at "beautiful pink sunsets" that no-one else can see. This is some seriously weird shit.

I went upstairs this afternoon to find her cleaning the windows... in her bed. She was sitting upright in bed and scrubbing really hard at... nothing. She just grinned at me and said: "these windows are looking wonderful."

I think it's time to call the nice people at the hospital...