Today has been a busy day after a busy night.

I completed my second overnight at Vanderbilt for the Bristol Myers Squibb (BMS) trial. As with last week, everything went peachy until midnight when the IV would no longer *pull* the hourly blood draw required by BMS's protocols. Last week the nurse's coaxings were successful. This week they weren't. So at 3:30 am after 30 minutes of uncomfortable coaxing, the nurse suggested the *old-fashioned* way of drawing blood... just sticking a damn needle in my arm. So that's what we did. She removed the IV and the next four draws were done the old-fashioned way and it worked and any discomfort was minimal in comparison to the IV.

No more than last week, when 11am rolled around, I was ready to head home. It's not because my stay at Vandy had been unpleasant. As always, the nurses were amazing and jovial and professional and overly dedicated to my comforts. Nurses are a special breed with my highest esteem.

A gigantic shout-out to Sheila, Debbie, and Michelle.

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The reason I was itching to leave was because I wanted to be home.

H-o-m-e.

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As I was pulling into Monteagle, my eldest, Chase, called.

He and his friends from the graduating class of 1993 are on the mountain for homecoming and they wanted to stop by. Trust me, I know this was the utmost courtesy call for them to stop by to see this old lady, and though I was tired Beyond Thunderdome, I was also thrilled.

My car scurried through the bucolic lanes of Clifftops where I live. Then I scurried about the house to prepare for my eldest's arrival. Below is a photo of the handsome trio that arrived at my front door. This is the sort of thing parents live for... Bright, engaging, happy people.



Chase, Parker, Carter (Please note that they all have last names for first names.)

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After the *boys* left, I crawled into my bed.

AHHHHHHH.

I have a magnificent bed my mother bought for me before my second hip replacement. It behaves like a hospital bed, but all the features are hidden. My bed looks more normal than me. One of its hidden features is magic fingers - reminiscent of beds in 1950s motels. I crawled into this very fine bed of mine, a temple of sublime comfort with its feathered mattress and feathered comforter and feathered pillows, and hit the massage button... and drifted off for some desperately needed sleep.

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Hours later after I was refreshed, I entertained Round Two of other guests to the mountain this weekend, but I'll save that story for another time. It was a lovely evening.