The Waiting Game

I've always hated waiting. I hate waiting to get marks back, I hate waiting for someone to call. I hate waiting for food at a restaurant. But never before have I hated waiting for something as much as I hate waiting for my grandfather to die. It is just that: a waiting game. It could be hours, it could be days. We don't really know. You just need to be ready for it when it happens, you need to be always by your phone and able to be reached no matter where you are so that when the call comes you can get into the hospital to say your goodbyes.
But it really makes you think, this whole watching someone die thing... what is he thinking? Does he know? And if he doesn't, do you tell him? What's he feeling? Is he scared? What do you say to him? Do you say: "It'll be okay" and "You'll be going home soon" or do you just keep quiet?
Its really scarey... and I really don't like it. But anyways, I need to go get some sleep... later.