Spent 3 hours at the hospital with my grandfather this evening. He has a new bracelet; it's a magentaish purple and says DNR in big black letters. He's very ready to be done living. His body is still adequately chugging along and he's not in any pain, but he can't do anything and that makes him very unhappy. He's even lost his sarcasm. He just says wearily how tired he is of all of this and that he doesn't want to have to make decisions anymore. Holding hands is about the only thing that seems to be bringing him any joy. I think I'm going back tomorrow until my aunt and uncle (who's coming in from Connecticut) show up in the afternoon.