Construction Zone Next 201 Miles

Yesterday I woke up at 5:00 as I had stated in my first Blog Post. I began my morning contemplating what the next steps should be. I was obviously worried about my husband after his surgery, but my father was surging to the forefront. I picked Joe up from his recovery room, picked up his medicine and then brought him home. 
This is when the chaos of mass destruction began. I called my father to check in. No answer. No answer for hours. I’m three hours away and no location device planted in his head. He called around noon, and we spoke for another 2 hours. Joe was by my side, drugged and loopy and yelling at me. Yelling the words “babe go to your father now, leave me and take care of him.”

I hopped in my car. I sped like there’s no tomorrow. Landing with a slide into his driveway, I found my father at around 5:00 smoking two cigarettes and dancing in his yard with his Ted hose on. He was so ecstatic to see me. Never once asking why I was there. His Jeep was still running. His music was loud and proud. He loves some Toby Keith. 

Don’t worry, I was alone but not really. Three men were just outside waiting for my cue that I needed help. That took all of about 5 minutes to sound the alarm. Dad was telling me he had just been at the High School arguing with the Superintendent because he wouldn’t let him use the PA system to announce to the world the truth. He was going to tell the world that there was no God. Now, wether you are a believer or you are not, you know this is not a sane person talking. 

He had a suitcase packed so he could go into hiding once the chaos of the world hit from understanding his TRUTH to the masses. 

Long long long story short. Neighbors, friends, my step father, my Uncle, cousin, paramedics, and police on stand by… We made it to the hospital around 9:00 maybe, I can’t even remember. I crawled into bed around 4:30 this morning at my mother’s house. My father had just been taken to be transported to Springfield. Which by the way, is almost 2 hours closer to me.

The counselor and doctors looked at me with sadness in their eyes. I know they tried their hardest to get a location that helps ease the pain and trouble on my end. Nothing compares to my father’s pain. Absolutely nothing. 

Thank you for reading this and allowing me to have an outlet. I need a huge hug, but Joe is drugged up and I’ve got a margarita in hand instead.