Are we really doing this again?

It's been ten months since my Papa died from stage 4 lung cancer that we didn't know he had. He got sick on a bus trip with his friends the week before he died. Last night, Nanny came home from a bus trip with the same group of friends, and we watched as 2 medics and 6 firemen lifted her in a sling and carried her out of the bus to an ambulance. She had fallen and broken her hip. She asked to be taken to the same hospital where Papa died. Thankfully, they rejected her, and we dodged that bullet. Unfortunately, we were sent to downtown Atlanta at 10:30 last night...where we stayed until 4:00 this afternoon. I haven't slept in 36 hours. She has hip replacement surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning, and then who knows how much rehab.

I'm not sure what makes this harder. All of the memories that keep sneaking back in, or knowing that she's the only Grandparent that I have left.