Christmas Cheer...or not so much

Today is Christmas Eve and let me tell you, I had big plans for the day. I was going to bake and decorate gingerbread cookies, make a green bean casserole and peanut butter pie for Christmas with my family tomorrow night, make a fruit salad for Christmas breakfast with Paul's family, and then make my and Paul's first married Christmas Eve dinner. And then at 9 this morning I got a phone call from Paul. His dad was in the hospital. He was going to visit and told me he'd pick me up in 10 minutes. So I grabbed the puppy, took her outside and threw on some clothes. We didn't know what was going on, we just knew that he had some chest pains early this morning and that nitro wasn't helping.

When we got to the hospital we found out that his enzymes and EKG were fine so it wasn't a heart attack, but they didn't know what was going on and neither did we. And we still don't. My father-in-law will celebrate Christmas in the hospital with a chemical stress test and hopefully we'll get some answers. I spent my day worrying, with my stomach in a knot. There were 6 adults and a baby crammed into the world's smallest hospital room. And you know what all the nurses, doctors, and other employees kept chatting about? How much they wish they weren't working and that they were at home. Now, call me crazy, but isn't that SUPER insensitive when you know that the man in the hospital bed won't be able to go home for Christmas? That he'll spend his Christmas undergoing medical tests? Yeah, I thought so too.

To all you hospital personel who spent to today and/or will spend tomorrow talking about how much you wish you were at home with your families...quit it! You're not the only one in that building who wants to be somewhere else.