"What the hell does that mean!"
Rena tried to understand the words on the paper clutched in her hand as she curled up on the couch. "Gram?" she whispered into the phone, "What did they say?"
"Oh, just a little of this and that, you know, dear. When you get old, they all end up sounding the same. It's always something, honey."
"Geez." Rena breathed for a moment. "I don't even know what to say, Gramma. I wish it wasn't like this. Do you think you'll be able to come visit this year?" Rena immediately regretted the question; it just seemed rude at this point.
"I don't know, honey. Maybe not, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I wish I could!"
"I know, Grammy. I love you tons!"
"I love you too, sweetheart. But I should probably go finish making dinner for Jack. I'll talk to you soon, babe. I love you."
"I love you too, Gramma. Good night!"
Rena clicked off the phone and silently hated the doctors who couldn't help her grandmother.