In which Doris is going to have surgery and then not going to have surgery and now we don't know

Yesterday, they discovered that Doris had more damage to her knees - yes, plural - knees than they thought. They finally got consensus on what to look at and what not to look at and the news is that it is bad.

However, it was the hand guy looking at the scans and not the knee guy, so the hand guy wasn't sure if it would be plates or screws or what. It would be something. Surgery would be today or tomorrow. Or sometime.

This morning, Primo messaged me. Surgery today.

I told him to tell Doris I was praying for her.

He replied that he was not comfortable using that kind of language. I wanted to shoot something back about rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. Primo is not a big picture guy and he picks tiny hills to die on sometimes.

I said that quoting is not endorsing and unless he thought Doris would be insulted by the concept, to tell her. Otherwise, say nothing. Sheesh. I DO NOT CARE. I WANT THIS DONE.

We had also spoken yesterday about planning. I suggested that the next steps would be to identify and place a deposit at an assisted living place and get bids from a senior moving place and Primo was all, "Woooo! We don't even have my mom in a nursing home yet!"

So we settled on his putting together a suitcase for Doris for the rehab center. Even that was tough. "We don't know when she's actually going," he protested.

I suggested that the timing would probably not make much difference in what she needed - no matter when she goes, she will need some clothes and her own nightgown and her own toiletries and some books and maybe a few family photos.

Primo agreed and told me I am really good at this, which I am. I am the person you want around in a crisis.

So Doris was going to have her surgery this morning, which was good because it increased her chances of moving to the rehab center either before Primo's planned departure date or after it but not on it. If she needs to move to rehab on the day Primo is planning to leave, he might feel compelled to stay to supervise.

(Me: Is there a social worker or someone at the hospital you can talk to about this? They probably are actually pretty used to doing this sort of thing and can do it without a family member present.

Primo: I don't like her. She is condescending.

Me: [OK SLY.] ][Sigh.] That doesn't matter. Is she competent?

Primo: I don't know. But I guess I either need to trust her or do everything myself.)

But then she didn't have the surgery because she has COPD, there are some issues with her breathing, and because they are worried about blood clots from the knees, etc, etc, etc.

So now we don't know what's happening.

This will never end.