What type of day is it when you wake up from an afternoon's sleep to get ready to go to work, and you're told by your wife that there's something wrong with your youngest son. The youngest son who has been through 40 plus surgeries in 8 years now seems to have had a new twist, almost literally, on his condition that has forced us to go in to hospital mode once again. It also forced me to call out sick less than 60 minutes before I was due to go in to work.
To say the least, the very least, I'm in a foul state of mind. But enough about me, please, send any prayers my youngest son's way. He needs all the help he can get. This issue, I believe, is simple, and fixable, but it's just another bump in a road full of potholes the size of canyons.
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