Freaky day

I was at work today, when suddenly I hear our optician state that she's heading home. Uh-oh. This could mean all sorts of things, none of them good. Turns out our patient who is in the exam room tells the doctor that he has a "controlled" case or MRSA (you know, the flesh eating bacteria). Our Optician is missing half of her ankle due to MRSA and ran out the door as soon as she heard about this patient. She returned with rubber gloves and a special germ-killing spray. I am optimistic that he didn't transmit anything to me, but seriously? The guy couldn't wait until this wasn't a problem to come get his eyes examined? You have to get real close to a person, and they touch a lot of equipment during eye exams. Eww.
Then we headed up to the in-laws to watch Larry assemble Ma's new bike (a Cadillac, very pretty) and then tune up the neighborhoods bikes too (not really, just one neighbor and Cameron's).
On the way home, we all agreed that Red Robin was what we needed for dinner. A quick bite, home for a quick dip in the hot tub, and then the phone rings.
It's Josh. My surrogate son. He needs a ride home.
Apparently some very, very sick young man decided to murder 6 people today and injure numerous others on a deadly rampage in our old neighborhood/neck of the woods. T (Josh's mom) is a dispatcher and was at work trying to manage this awful situation, and I'm sure grieving for the victims (one was a deputy that she knew). So at 9pm, I pack up to get my 17 year old son and deliver him safe and sound at home. He really wanted to go home to be close to his mama when she gets home from work tonight. I kinda wanted to keep him here, but knew that nothing beats "MOM" when you're upset.