“Hello? Grandma?" No response came as I turned on the kitchen light. My heart was pounding now as I walked through the kitchen, through the living room door. The TV flashed silently in color on the empty couch and chairs. "Where are you?" The I called, more urgently, leaving the living room and sneaking into his bedroom. Once again, the lights were off and the bed was undisturbed. I heard a muffled cooing bathroom, closed. Trembling slightly, I started to open the door, but was met with resistance. "Grandma, it's Jack, are you in the bathroom?" An incomprehensible moan came from behind the door. I opened the door as gently as I could, just enough to Peep out. My grandmother was curled up on the floor, her feet pressed against the door. “Oh God, are you okay?” As if I needed clarification, she managed to tell me that she felt faint and that the left side of his face was numb. A shiver ran down my spine as I reached for the phone, recalling elements of my mediocre medical knowledge. “911 operator, what is your address and telephone number?” "5920 Brookgreen, 678,772,0304", I