Little Miss Nurse.

That's me.

Although, little, I am not.

One of my dad's sisters is in the hospital.

My aunt is 66 years old.

She used to be a nurse, too. 

She's retired now and has been married once.

She's suffering from difficulty in breathing,

She has high blood pressure.

And she's a diabetic.

She smokes, too.

Been at it for some 20 years.

Death sentence, anyone?

Medical mode kicks in.

I hate being the folks.

Folks is the term used when medical staff refer to the patient's family.

As a nurse, I am a separate entity from my clients.

I see them as people and I empathize with them and their significant others.

But it feels differently when it's one of your own.

Your flesh and blood.

Suddenly, I'm not so sure anymore.

Scenarios like this make me realize how time goes by so fast.

I'm 25, and I'm still stuck in a rut.

As Belle goes, "there must be more than this provincial life."

But family is family.

One foot forward, two steps back.

Makes me want to pull at my hair!