u/Public_Administrator

In 2014, my grandpa had a heart attack and was left with only 30% heart function. Doctors gave him 5 years to live. He fought for 12.

3 months ago, he started getting pain in his legs and arms. We were told it was "probably his heart" and had to wait for a specialist. The night before that appointment, 2.5 weeks ago, he was rushed to the hospital in excruciating pain.

The doctors initially hesitated, but after two days, they found he had sepsis. For 3 weeks, I spent 4 to 8 hours every single day by his side. I washed him, fed him, and protected him. I had to become his guardian because the hospital failed him. The nurses didn't even bother to look at his case file; they treated him like a number instead of a human being. I had to stand my ground and fight for his dignity and his needs against their negligence. We laughed, we played games, and we cried—something he, as a former Special Forces soldier, never did.

The pain became unbearable. Morphine didn't touch it. Multiple times, he looked me in the eyes, took his hand, and called me "Soldier" before drifting off. He struggled through days of Cheyne-Stokes breathing, stabilized for a moment, and fought with everything he had. Last week, the antibiotics stopped working. The doctor told us there was nothing more they could do. That same day—my 20th birthday—my grandpa asked me if he could live just a little longer. My heart crushed. He just wanted to go home and be with his family.

Now, my grandpa is home. He is using his final energy to pass away in peace. We are here with him, guarding his way to heaven. The nurses predict he won't make it until morning, so I have taken the night watch. I will guard him until his last breath, just as I have for the past 2.5 weeks. And I would do it all over again.

I am my grandpa's soldier, and he is my General. A soldier serves his General, just as a grandson serves his grandpa. Together we are waiting with the rest of the family to cross the bridge, where he will be waiting for us.

Past weeks have been unbearable. I am emotionally broken, like a robot running on autopilot. I have chronic stress. I don't feel the cortisol anymore, but I feel the physical pain the stress gives me. I have developed severe health anxiety and fear of things I normally wouldn't care about. I don't know what to do besides being with him. I don't know what I will do after this. I feel horrible. Family is everything to me. Take this from me and a piece of me dies.

My grandpa has a pressure ulcer purely because the sepsis is eating away scarred tissue. His feet and hands are black because his heart can't pump enough anymore. I have no medical experience other than a Red Cross certificate, but I helped everywhere I can and still feel like it's not enough. I’m exhausted, I’m scared, and I’m hurting. If anyone has tips on how to survive the aftermath of this or how to deal with this, please let me know.

You know what the fucked up thing is? The sepsis had nothing to do with his hearth!

Cursed_Rabbit

My grandpa who passed away a week ago left me this beauty according to my grandma. Aparently my grandpa only shot it a few times to keep it in new condition for me. I miss him so much... Anybody that has more information on this gun?

My grandpa died of sepsis a few days ago. He was a spec ops veteran in his 20's and left me his collection of airguns in his will now that I'm 20. Any beginner help is welcome.