"I'm Sorry!"

Last week when Doc was slated to put in over a hundred hours at the hospital*, Gator came up to him late one night while he was lying on the floor, exhausted.

"I'm sorry, Daddy", Gator said.

"Sorry for what?" Doc asked.

"I'm sorry that I wanted us to stay here."

"Why?"

"Because you have to work so hard."

From the moment Doc mentioned that he was interested in the considerably more relaxed Transitional Year program near Boston as his first choice, Gator started praying that we wouldn't have to move. I mean, it was like a desperate mantra with him.

Worried about the fallout if we did end up matching elsewhere, I tried to steer his mind towards a more accepting attitude. "Sweetie, instead of praying that we won't have to move, why don't you pray that everything will work out how it is supposed to! That no matter what happens, we'll be happy and have the life experiences we need to have."

But Gator wasn't having any of that. Month after month, his constant prayer was that we wouldn't have to move. Nothing short of staying put was acceptable in his mind.

When we finally found out we staying here, Gator viewed it as a direct answer to his heartfelt prayers. That was one very happy moment in this kid's life.

And now we find out he feels personally responsible for the insane hours his poor daddy has to put in.

Grateful for:
1) My sweet boy's faith that God will answer his prayers.
2) My sweet Doc's way of handling the pressures he faces during difficult rotations. He's amazing.
3) My life here. I'd have been fine with an adventure somewhere else, but I really love living here.

* Note: Doc's resident called him and said they realized his hours were way over the legal limit, and told him to take the next day off. Major!!!