... and so I'm pretty anxious right now, to the point of not really being able to focus or get much done. It's actually a pretty routine surgery--Mama de Cleo is having her entire knee replaced, because there's just no cartilage left. She's been hobbling around bone-on-bone for three or four months now, because she couldn't take off work until this month (and kept insisting that she should wait until November, when things would be less hectic at work, which horrified us all). She's not even 60 yet; it's just that Family de Mama de Cleo has crap knees. She's got a really good surgeon who specializes in knee surgery, and it'll involve her taking six weeks off work to recuperate, but she's a trouper, and she'll do her rehab exercises scrupulously. In fact, when she had a minor knee surgery (other knee) a few years back, we caught her up and mopping the kitchen floor later that afternoon. You cannot keep my mother down; you can only hope to contain her.
It's just that... you know. It's surgery. Sometimes, things happen. I've been dreading that aspect of it for weeks now, and even though some stress will be involved in the first two weeks of her being home and not able to do much for herself, most of it will pretty much evaporate as soon as I hear that she's out of it okay. I might hear as early as 8 or 9 am; I might not hear until later in the morning. Who knows.
ETA (Tuesday morning): She seems to have come through it all just fine and is Resting Comfortably, as they say in the hospital business.