Yesterday was Mom's first checkup with the surgeon since she left the hospital, and he was very pleased with her progress.
I'm so proud of her. It was incredibly bold and brave of her to do both knees at once. I'd heard horror stories about the surgery, and I was very afraid of anything that would endanger her general health or overtax her system, and about 6 months ago I told her my concern, and dropped that subject. When she made her decsion to do both knees, I was at work, it was about 6:45, and she called me and told me she wanted me to know she'd scheduled the surgery, and I very much got the feeling that if I'd told her I was too afraid, she would have done just the one knee. The emotional part of me-- the part that will always be the little girl who cried on her lap after a bad day at school-- was terrified of such a big double-procedure. But in that instant when she told me she wanted to do them both and was asking how I felt about that, something clicked and I realized that it's her body and her call, and she knows what she's willing to go through, and I need to support her in that. I was struck by the realization that when I do something difficult and challenging, my folks will express reservations if they have them, but they support me, and they buoy me in the important and unconditional ways that are so rare in this world. I'm glad I didn't let my initial reservations foster a fear in her. I'm glad she trusted her instincts, because I see again and again that she knows her own business. It's amazing how you are never too old to learn from your parents.
Here's to grace under pressure. :) Here's to my Mom.
Work continues apace on the house. There is so much to be done. I am going to bite the bullet and go ahead and have 4 of my 14 windows replaced(I'd seriously go into hock if I did the whole lot, so baby steps for now). The ones I'll do first are A) the one I broke out to get back in when I'd locked myself out(yes, it was too embarrasing to blog about), and the one right next to that one, and then the two winders in the kitchen. [yes, talking to Himself on Thursday I slipped into Arkansan and said winders*( for windows)]. I had someone come out Thursday to measure them, and was not at all surprised to find that nary a one of the winders was stock measurement.
I have the scaffold up in the living room, awaiting the final wave of beadboard on the ceiling. The bathroom is in a sad, primed-but-not-painted state, and there are cans of paint and tubes of caulk all over the place. Then there's the loveseat hidden under a pile of unfolded laundry. I apologized to the window guy, saying I'm living in a construction zone. He said this was immaculate compared to one he saw yesterday. This was wonderful, because he seemed like a very country guy like you see around here, sort of old-school, and the he whipped out his smart phone and started me showing pictures of a house in full-on tumult mode. It looked like someone had a bunch of crap in a house, and shook the house up like a snowdome. Just toys and clothes and empty food containers and all kinds of stuff, everywhere, in a tumble. I said "wow. that looks like it stinks." He said "you have NO idea" and went on to recount that the woman there had 5 pit bulls and there were feces all over the house and she had little kids living around that, too, so no, my house is in fact, very very clean by comparison.
THAT is scary, but I'll take the ego boost. :P
Did I mention how frelling glad I am that it is Friday???
*rhymes with fenders