The truck looked like this.

At least, I think it did. I didn't get a good look at it, but it was certainly big and moving fast when it hit us.

It all started Sunday night, when I caught the 7:30pm flight to Indianapolis. As the 7:30pm flight became the 8:45pm flight, I told Kelsey on the phone "I don't feel very good...".

After landing in Indianapolis, I rented a car and drove about forty miles toward Cincinnati, where I checked into a hotel. The next morning, I looked at the hotel breakfast and said to myself "This doesn't look appealing." Note: I LOVE breakfast.

I got in the car and drove another hour to Cincinnati, except I needed to stop and take a nap along the way. This is not normal.

In Cincinnati, I met with the leaders of the Underground, then drove down to Vernon Manor to meet with some pastors that YWAM had gathered. I took one look at the buffet and said to myself "This doesn't look appealing." Note: A trend is spotted.

After the meeting, I did a rocket run back up the highway in hopes of catching an earlier flight out of Indianapolis. I was on a 7:45pm that connected in Chicago and got me home at 11pm. I made it for the 5:45pm and was back at MCI by 6:15pm.

Neither Kelsey or I felt very good when we hit the sack, and very quickly we were both tossing and turning and comparing our pain. "My head hurts." "My eyebrowns hurt." "My pupils are swollen". All night we complained to one another. It hurt to roll over. It hurt to lay still. It just hurt.

In spite of a full schedule of meetings today, I think I got out of bed at noon. For a minute. Thanks to the miracle of Dayquil, I'm feeling a little better now but Kels is still in bed. Even a Cherry Lime Aid didn't help her. It's that bad.