Lather, rinse, repeat.

I don't have a whole lot to write about tonight.  Mostly still sitting around with my nose in my books.  This morning was my Lab practical/ final.  I think (hope and pray) that I rocked it.  Wednesday is the real deal.. The lecture final that could potentially make or break my opportunity to get into the nursing department of my school, which is highly competitive. 

More than this test though, I'm thinking about my nephew.  Our sweet baby boy that has been being nourished from a feeding tube in his nose since April..  Today  he had surgery to get a port put into his stomach so that he will not have to have the traumatic and uncomfortable process of changing the tubes in and out.  The procedure was about 12 hours ago, and it's about all I can think about.

So far, according to the surgeon and the doctors, all is going well.  Still, my heart breaks.

He's so little and sweet and innocent.   He's only 15 months old and reeeeally wanting to be walking and exploring his world.  It makes me angry when babies and little kids have to go through stuff like this.  It just seems so unfair.  As adults, we can pick and choose what and, or how much we choose to endure (medically).  Babies and children have to go through all the necessary dr visits and procedures and vaccines... because we say so.  Poor babies.

The great news is, so far, so good.  Per the surgeon, the procedure went well, and he is in good shape.

Now...  don't get too comfortable people--- remember, we have my final on Wednesday, and my ct results appointment on Thursday.

So, I'm gonna go ahead and pretend that I'm going to sleep for the night now.  That roughly translates to:  I'm going to turn off the laptop and close the text books now.... from that point, I will turn over and over, artfully tangling my sheets and blankets around my knee area.  I will snooze periodically during this process, until one of my boys makes their way into my bed.  This is where the contortionist in me kicks in.  I will arrange myself in such a way that I will neither injure my son, nor fall off my bed.. I will simultaneously be trying to keep contact with a cover sheet.  This will continue until the next son arrives.  Then the dance begins again.  From that point forward, I generally try to grab a cat nap here and there until it is once again time to start the day.  At this point, the boys will start fighting over bullshit, and I start screaming.

Lather, rinse, repeat.