It's time to pack the carpetbags again

Now is the time. We have been so busy moving back home the latter part of the week, that I have done nothing toward getting ready to leave other than think, talk, or write about it. I know why, too. I do not want to go. Pulling down my monitor to peer over it is the sweetest sight. Missie Nicole is curled into a tight ball, sleeping softly. I find that I have followed her leading as I am waking, now a few hours later.

Well, Missie looked sweet and all, but she is not the reason for my not wanting to leave. And, I *do* want to get to that blood product dripping into my vein, for sure, because I am really in need of it. It is what I am having to give up that makes me plumb sad. Yep, that's what I said. Plumb sad. That is a colloquialism not of my normal use; well, could we say I never use it, but it does seem to fit right now! Sounds like something someone who giggles at the bald (slightly :-), gray haired man riding my power chair down the middle of the street might say, though. Oh, how much I am going to miss him.

I hate to break our little family of Jim, me, and our four furry babies apart once again, but what has to be, has to be. Sleepiness seems to be overwhelming right now, also, and we have to get on with packing those carpetbags you see above, so that means cutting this short. Once in my room, I will be back online, and able to publish once again. In the meantime, hopefully I can write. It just depends on how a lot of things play out after we get there. I *will* have my camera with me, though. Wonder about our budding photographer? :-)

Until then . . .

Driving into St. Francis - Bartlett Hospital
Emergency Entrance

Emergency Room Entrance

Admissions ClerkToodles
Striving for a world without Myasthenia Gravis