Going 'home home'

Today I found out that my mom wasn't being released from the hospital today... despite the fact that it's my dad's birthday. She's supposed to be released tomorrow, for sure. The only reason for her hold back was because they needed to set up an at-home nursing organization to give her an IV-antibiotic and someone to dry-pack her wound. Well, thanks to the health care system we are faced with, she will only get someone to come once per day, which isn't enough for appropriate healing. Therefore, when faced with my dad's clumsy big fingers (I love him to death, but it's true) or my insanely petite (size 4.5 ring finger) steady hands, my mom asked me to come up for the next week and pack her wound.

Two things of note here: 1. The only reason I am not in medical school is that gore, ooze, and blood (really any bodily fluids) make me squirm and dry heave. 2. My mom was a former grad student, so she is going to return to be my work-nazi. Even with 2 bad arms, she'll crack the proverbial whip over my hunching back as I hammer out any kinds of proofs.

So, I called my adviser (something I swore I would never do) and asked him to push up our 10:30 meeting to 8:00am so that I could make my flight. He's surprisingly supportive; could be because his wife was a nurse and he has cancer, but maybe because despite the firm mathematical exterior, he is indeed human. So, I'm leaving 'home' for a week or so to return to 'home home' and take care of my mother all while I am in a phd research gulag. For those who have kept up... hopefully you can understand why I am 26 years old and just took my first ever vacation. At least I'm rejuvenated and it may possibly be that this week (or so) will push me closer to the end of this trek.