Sharon and the knee appear to be holding together a little better. I was unable to steal a wheelchair when I was at Kaiser, because the volunteer wheelchair-pusher was far too crafty. The new cast is not nearly as attractive and holidayriffic as the old cast, and I would seriously doubt if it glows in the dark. Disappointing.

Sharon is now the knee surgery equivalent of a frequent flyer. Anaesthesiologists ask if she wants "the usual." The pharmacy clerk who gave me her prescriptions, actually said "blah blah blah" in the middle of his Vicodin-taking instructions. Two more operations, and they throw in a hip replacement for free.

Also, Mom seems to have developed a fondness for Tenacious D, as evidenced by her instructions to give her "some fucking smooches" before I left. I don't even have a joke here.