So last night another blow made me realize just how deep into Narnia I really am. I am no longer at the beaver's house, but instead running from the ice witch on the river–DEEEEEEEEEP into Narnia. My grandfather was admitted with pnemonia, and seemed fine at about 3 in the afternoon. 6 hours later I recieved a call that his blood O2 saturation levels were in the mid 50s, so I headed to the hospital. At about 11, my aunt took my two cousins home and my uncle and myself stayed with Dew. 12 O'clock rolled around and he was okay/talking about being ready to go and such. He then proceeded to go to sleep, and Mark and I tried to do the same. Sleeping in an ICU room is a bitch, I learned. At 2:30 AM, the doctors came in as his BP was 62/49, and tried to wake him. He didn't respond, so Mark and I took shots at doing it. Sadly it didn't work, and ultimately he slipped away. RIP Dewey F. Petersen. We didnt leave until approximately four AM, and I wasnt able to get to bed until about 5, then had to wake up at 7:30. So on 2:30 of sleep, I pressed about my day, then took a big nap this afternoon.
1 mile easy+extended movment prep.
In a way I'm now not angry that I blew my Footlocker Regional race. Had I won like I was capable, I would have been in San Diego along with most of my family. Instead we were able to be there for Dew when he needed it most. May he rest in peace.