And again ...

Last night at midnight, an hour after I left them, my mom called 911 and asked for an ambulance to take my dad to the hospital.

They sat all night in Emergency ("No beds, sorry. Contact your MLA...") and I sat in my room, praying. Clint and Max are away for the weekend, and I didn't feel right about leaving Drew home alone, so I stayed put and wished things were different.

It's 3:30 in the afternoon now, and some of the test results are back. It's not his heart that is weakening, it's quite possibly the meds he's on that are causing his body so much grief. His doctor has decided to keep him in for awhile (? how long is awhile?) "to get to the bottom of this". He suspects it's the Prozac that's messing with his liver.

So.....

Dare I ask for prayer again? Still?



Thank you, internet, for caring.

Three things I'm thankful for:
1. Doctors.
2. Sunny afternoons.
3. Appliances.

Shalom,