My most stressful day, probably the day Grandma died.
All of us grandkids spent the night in the waiting room of the hospital, taking turns sitting with her so she'd never be alone. We didn't really sleep at all.
My brother drove me home where I collapsed in bed. I was woken up with a call from that brother saying we needed to go back and he could pick me back up. I told him no, because I thought it had been hours, but had only been 10 minutes. As I stepped outside, I rolled my ankle and fell in a lovely pile of dog crap someone had apparently forgotten to clean up. Got cleaned up quick and hobbled to the car to go to the hospital.
I, along with most of my cousins and siblings, my mom and aunt and uncle were all by her bedside when it happened. Everyone was crying, but me, I stayed calm (which is not me). I excused myself because I knew that my father and brothers should be arriving soon. As soon as I got to the elevators, they opened and my dad was there. He looked at me and I lost it. He hugged me and said, excuse me, I need to be there for my wife. And practically ran down the hall to my mom.
My cousin's husband and uncle followed suit.
I went back into the waiting room and just sat there. I was so emotionally drained and exhausted. She was supposed to be released on Friday, then all of a sudden was in the ICU with liver failure and passed on Sunday.