When there's nothing left but you, and me, and the wind

My grandpa's in the hospital with pneumonia, again.

He called my mom, my aunt and the ambulance late Christmas night, because his head was hurting so bad. We worry about his head ever since his brain tumor last year.

But no, they admitted him for pneumonia. His CT looks okay - well, it did after we explained to the tech that Popa was missing a large portion of his cerebellum due to the brain tumor. I swear the tech had written a book about how the CT was inconclusive because no one had thought to give the poor guy my grandpa's history beforehand.

So after all the XRays and CTs and bronchio-thingies, he definitely has pneumonia, and they're saying it's OLD pneumonia - meaning he's never gotten over the pneumonia he had in June.

And this all does lead back to the brain tumor, because he won't get up and be active anymore.

Before the brain tumor, my grandpa looked more like he was 60 than 80. He was in top physical condition, and the only thing that had slowed him down was my grandmother's death the year before.

And then he went to the doctor because he was dizzy, and was immediately hospitalized for a massive brain tumor, had two major surgeries, a bout of intensive radiation, and is still here today, 83 years old.

The doctors say most people his age would not survive this, but this is my grandpa we're talking about.

But now we're here, and he has to get up and moving to get better, and he will not get up.

The lack of a cerebellum in his brain makes him dizzy. He has fallen quite a few times. He needs to go slow and use his cane and walker. I know he has never had to use it before, but neither has Dwayne, who is 40 years younger than him!

The doctors say walking walking walking will cause Popa's brain to remap around the cerebellum and he will get less dizzy as time goes by.

But he's still not doing it. So he won't get up and the pneumonia won't go away and I am so frustrated.

My grandmother and my grandfather were perfect soul mates and both stubborn as mules.

My grandmother would just worry my grandfather to death until he gave in. My grandfather was more sneaky in his approach to getting my grandmother to do what he wanted, he picked and chose his battles so that when he asked, she said yes.

My grandmother would know how to make him get up.

So...second year in a row we're spending New Year's at the hospital. Ya-ay?!