Lisa, post surgery, with cats Zed and Junipurr

It's now late Wednesday night, just tiny bit shy of eight days since I made my last post very early last Wednesday morning. Over the week, I had shot a number of things I thought I would make room for in my Wednesday post, including some material that I believe was quite good, such as a study series depicting Charlie buckling himself into the driver's seat of Lisa's new car and then driving away.

Yes, it is quite an excellent series - and I got a pretty damn good picture of a cat in my rear view mirror on a day when I had just depressed myself by... well, it would take too long to explain.

So I thought I would put up a pretty long post tonight with many pictures.

But you know what? I am tired. And a little bit discouraged. My good black cat, Jim, is sitting between my keyboard and monitor, making it a bit challenging to see what I am doing and to make this post.

But that is not why I am tired and a bit discouraged.

I am tired because I spent most of this day in Anchorage, much of it sitting in the waiting room of the day surgery wing at the Alaska Native Medical Center.

My daughter, Lisa, underwent knee surgery today. For a torn meniscus in her knee. It was supposed to be a short, simple, matter, but wound up eating up the entire day from noon until about 6:00 PM, or maybe close to 7:00. I lost track. In the process of that surgery, the doctor found her anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) was also torn. It sounds like she may well need surgery on that a bit later.

I don't know they could have missed the ACL tear on the MRI they did on her before scheduling this surgery, but they did. Otherwise, they could have fixed both problems today. Now she apparently has to go through it again and in the meantime "feels like I am walking on another time bomb."

Afterward, lying in her hospital bed, she was in a great deal of pain. I cannot tell you how much it hurt to see my baby daughter hurting like that.

Still, when we left the apartment she shares with boyfriend Bryce and cats Zed {black) and Junipurr, her spirits were much better. The pain killers had taken effect and she was able to joke, laugh, and play silly games with her kitties. So her mother and I were feeling a bit better, too. But very tired.

Her she is, looking over the instructions for her medications and care while she is at home.

Her kitties look out for her.

My beloved daughter, Lisa, at home with her kitties.

I accidently made this post with a much larger file than normal. So, if you are looking at this with a large monitor, like an iMac, and want to see the picture big, just click on it.