My grandmother gave me one hell of a scare about noon-ish today. Y'see, she suffers from emphysema and is on oxygen... well, I was woken up by a phone call from the guy who replaces the air tanks for her portable oxygen tank. He'd come by earlier and she didn't leave the empty tanks on the back porch for him, and he'd come back to find that she still hadn't left them out. I tell him that I'll go see if she's up yet, so I try calling her from my private line. The phone rings about a dozen times and she doesn't pick up.
I start to get nervous, and head down to her apartment and knock on her door (which she'd locked). Loudly. I could hear her TV blasting some lame show, as she'd apparently left it on. I pounded on the door for several seconds and went back up to my room after I got no response. My brother had gotten the front door, talked to the oxygen tank guy, and was knocking on her door as well. I dialed her number from my private line and just let it ring. After pounding on her door some more and letting the phone ring about twenty times, she finally answered.
She'd fallen asleep with the TV on really loud, and it made it hard for her to hear us. It really worried me, though. I know her health is poor and that one of these days I'm going to go wake her up for something and... y'know.
Scared the hell out of me.
Today I ran some errands, getting ready for Origins this week, and then I hit the Book n Bean.
For some reason, I just felt kinda 'off' tonight. It didn't help much that once I'd gotten into the right mental 'rhythm' for writing a couple of regulars came in with their very loud, obnoxious kids. Two kids, neither of which seemed to understand the concept of a personal volume level below 'screaming at the top of their fucking lungs.' They ran around the place, playing with everything and bugging anyone who hadn't gone out to sit on the front porch, screaming like little monsters.
I normally don't hate children. I really don't. I'd have liked to have gotten some writing done tonight... *sigh*
I start to get nervous, and head down to her apartment and knock on her door (which she'd locked). Loudly. I could hear her TV blasting some lame show, as she'd apparently left it on. I pounded on the door for several seconds and went back up to my room after I got no response. My brother had gotten the front door, talked to the oxygen tank guy, and was knocking on her door as well. I dialed her number from my private line and just let it ring. After pounding on her door some more and letting the phone ring about twenty times, she finally answered.
She'd fallen asleep with the TV on really loud, and it made it hard for her to hear us. It really worried me, though. I know her health is poor and that one of these days I'm going to go wake her up for something and... y'know.
Scared the hell out of me.
Today I ran some errands, getting ready for Origins this week, and then I hit the Book n Bean.
For some reason, I just felt kinda 'off' tonight. It didn't help much that once I'd gotten into the right mental 'rhythm' for writing a couple of regulars came in with their very loud, obnoxious kids. Two kids, neither of which seemed to understand the concept of a personal volume level below 'screaming at the top of their fucking lungs.' They ran around the place, playing with everything and bugging anyone who hadn't gone out to sit on the front porch, screaming like little monsters.
I normally don't hate children. I really don't. I'd have liked to have gotten some writing done tonight... *sigh*