* * *
My brother had been staying with my ninety-year-old grammy. He wakes her up at 3 am insisting he is having a heart attack. She needs to get snappy because this is a 911.
Grammy is not amused. She kind of looks like she's about to punch him in the crotch.
My brother clutches his chest and makes gurgling noises while Grammy collects her pocketbook and finds the key to her 1980 Honda Wagovan. They speed off into the night, arriving at the hospital just before dawn.
Twenty minutes later, they sit side by side in the ER. No one else is in the waiting room. Grammy leans over and says, "Can we go home now?"
My brother nods. They exit into the twilight.