Panic Attack

Far from my house,
Pretty much alone at the house
Of my weak, aging, grandmother,
I can only help her so much...she needs another,
Someone a bit stronger to help her if she falls,
I thought I was strong enough, both physical and emotional, but that was false.
She already fell twice, and my uncle when he was here
Had to help her, and it filled me with fear.
...And I have been holding back tears,
My hands have been shaking, and tonight, my bravery...disappears.
I wish I could just go home,
I wish she would just move closer to my home,
Where three other people,
Three strong people,
Could take turns spending the night with her,
And help her
When she falls, or needs anything.
But it turns out, I can barely help her with anything.
For the thing she needs the most of all,
Is helping her in and out of chairs and making sure she dosent fall,
I can somewhat do the first,
But not the latter, and that's the worst.
I don't want an accident or even a death,
Her taking her last breath
While we wait for the fire department,
So she should just move over near us, permanent.
Now she's lying in her bed,
Watching loud TV, as I try not to sweat,
Fretting, and worrying, about if or when she'll need me again,
And if I'll even be able to help her again.