I had planned on talking tonight about The Biggest Loser (because I need to vent about the meaness of Vicky) and about an urge to run, but things got a little bit crazy tonight.
The original plan was that Aaron and The Brit, along with several other church members, were going to work the local homeless shelter in serving dinner, and JJ and I were going to go to the library, then I was going to drop him off at my mom's place and then I was going to praise band rehearsal. I had worked (and spent most of my shift downstairs helping folks make hard tack candy for Christmas), then went to the YMCA to work out (I had wanted to talk about that too) and then went to get my nails done. So, I didn't get home until about 3:50. I had just settled into The Brit's recliner to relax, watch Dr. Phil and let my nails dry, when my cell phone rang. It was my friend, Tod, who lives a street behind us, telling me he was really sick and asking if I could take him to either Urgent Care or the ER. So after arranging for the kids to be at a neighbors, I picked up Tod and asked what was wrong. He said he had been having severe abdominal pain since yesterday. That made the decision for me that we were going to the ER, as much as I hate that place because if by chance it was his appendix, we would need to be at the hospital.
Sure enough, it was his appendix and during surgery, they found it had ruptured. But Tod is doing well and was resting comfortably when I left the hospital just after 10:00.
So now, I am grabbing a bite of dinner and plan on heading to bed. What is it about sitting in a hospital that makes one exhausted?