My Grandma had a stroke at the age of 100. After she came home from the hospital for hours she would say, "I'm dead, I'm dead, I'm dead." It would drive a person crazy. I would tell her she wasn't dead, she was here with me, trying to comfort her, nothing worked. She lived beside a funeral home for 60 years and knew the owner, whose name was Don, well for those years. One morning she started the "I'm dead" thing so I asked her if she wanted me to call Don and have him pick up her body. She said, "yes, I believe so." I said ok, that I would do that but first would she like a bit to eat before she went. She looked at me and said, "I believe I will have a little to eat before I go."