Grandpa got ran over by a lathe, dear - part one

After the Commander's grandfather died, I realized that the Chicken only had three great-grandparents left and one of them had never seen her in person.

I wanted to rectify that.

I made plans to take a couple of long weekends this month so we could make a trip to the Bay area to see her grandmother and a trip out to the river to see my dad's parents.

I haven't seen my dad's parents since the funeral. It is time for a visit.

As this weekend approached, the Commander was ready to scrub this mission. The Chicken had been sick (and the truth is, I had been too. I was throwing up so violently last weekend that the blood vessels in my eyes exploded. I was El Rojo Ojo).

But before we could cancel our trip, my grandfather did just that for us.

He was out in his work shed (which is a bit of a misnomer since it is larger than my house) and he had a lathe fall on him.

That lathe caused some sort of injury that days later forced him to get medical attention.

That's when my grandma emailed me at work to let me know that they were going to the hospital.

So, I'm kind of freaking out. I'm five hours away. I don't know what is going on. I call Number 2 to see if he can find out anything but I'm going to be in the dark for the next few hours because I'm going to a meeting where I'm leading a team through some team building exercises.

I'm already going to the worse case scenario and I don't think I can handle it.

VW