For myself, I got an interior cabin with no windows, the cheapest available on the ship. It was still awesome. The bathroom was huge, there were piles of fluffy towels, and the cabin was nearly as big as my apartment in Toronto. I wasn't planning to be in the cabin during the day, so the lack of windows wasn't an issue. If I did want to see the outside, one of the channels on the huge TV was linked to a camera on the bow of the ship.
For the next week, I spent every day with my grandmother. We'd order room service and have breakfast on her balcony, looking at the ocean and talking. She'd then take a nap, and I'd sit with her and read. We'd walk to a restaurant for lunch. She can't walk very far, so we'd stop and sit on some deck chairs or lounges and rest and talk, before going the rest of the way. In the evening, she'd often be too tired to leave the cabin, so I'd go to a restaurant and bring back foods for her. The staff were great - they'd custom-grill some fish for her, or do whatever was needed to make her happy. She'd take a nap, and then I'd help her check her blood sugar, and we'd talk for a bit before she went to sleep and I went back to my cabin. Occasionally she'd call me at 3 AM if she was having difficulties and couldn't find her medication.
The ship went to Mexico, the Cayman Islands, Jamaica, and Haiti before returning to Fort Lauderdale. My grandmother and I never left the boat as she couldn't walk far, and didn't want to be too far from the bed in case she wanted a nap. My sister did manage to go ashore and have some adventures, which was good. I'm afraid that it may have been a bit boring for her.
After getting back to Fort Lauderdale, we spent two nights in a hotel so my grandmother could rest up before the flight back. My grandmother told me a few interesting stories about how she had nearly killed a neighbor (he deserved it), and some of the sordid details of our family history. In 1995, my mother ordered me to never tell my grandmother that I'm gay; my grandmother knew anyway, of course, but for the first time I told her. She asked if I had anybody, and I told her that I was dating Sandy; she was happy that I was not alone. Her only concern about me being gay was the high incidence of gaybashings and homophobic murders. I reassured her that the murder rate was far, far less in Toronto than in Nova Scotia. Anyway, she seemed very happy that I disobeyed my mom's orders not to talk about my relationships, and repeatedly referred to the conversation afterwards.
We then flew to Toronto, and I sat next to my grandmother and talked with her on the way back. I then walked her and my sister to their connecting flight to Halifax, and then went back to my apartment.