Her back surgery was one of those pivotal family events for me. Mark was gone on his mission, Brent and Lawrence were sill fairly young, Suzanne had just started college and I was in between my junior and my senior year and it fell to me to be the primary "answerer to mom's bell." We call that period of time "Summer from Hell."
They opened my mom up from the nape of her neck all the way down and straightened out her spine, stopping to SAW where some vertebrae had gotten fused and stuck her full of stainless steel to make sure her back wouldn't collapse. For the first few months she couldn't lift 5 pounds. That's *nothing.* Many months elapsed before she even *thought* about attempting the stairs.
So, surgery on her knees? Pbhttt....child's play. A hip? Isn't that supposed to be easier than a knee? So something as minor as a hernia surgery...well, that's nothing to worry about, right?
Except I worry every time either of my parents has to spend any time in the hospital. It's rough seeing your folks age.
I was relieved when I realized I had missed a call on my phone. "Hello Jeanette...this is your dad...your mother just came out of surgery...everything is fine. Just thought you'd want to know."
I do. Thanks dad.