Estoy Nueces

Yesterday was an exhausting day. After getting up too early, I got to the hospital to do the interviews that they asked me to do. Wonderful people, sweet children, interesting stories, miracles! Oh, but the tears. I cried, mothers cried, we all had a good cry. Really, not so good a cry. There is no way you can just sit down and bawl in the hallway of a cheerful, life-affirming hospital hallway. But I wanted to.

A big lug of a 16-year-old boy that wants to be a mechanic. And he has colorectal cancer. Do you know how small the odds are for someone of that age to have full-blown colorectal cancer? But he's dealing with it and the surgery and the chemo and says it has only made him stronger.

A tiny baby born with a heart defect and more has to face surgery at five days old. Her good news is that she is almost a year old now and healthy and strong and she doesn't face a life of disability. She's "cured" by a miracle surgeon.

Twin girls born in distress. One is brain damaged. Now, at five years old, one is a beautiful willowy blond and ready to start school. The other is in a stroller and can't walk or talk. This family's whole world now revolves around her therapy and will revolve around her for the rest of their lives.

I met many more and talked to the wonderful surgeon that had saved two of these children. It absolutely sells me on our mission for Miracle Month and I hope we can raise money for this hospital. But, man, it sure makes me feel guilty when I complain about having to get up too early or agonizing over these 15 extra pounds.

I'm sure I'll get past that and continue to complain.

Went to the Spoke last night for the accordions and then came on home to do lots of commercials and music work for the station. Zonked out and never heard Mark come in.