Mom's birthday was actually the day after Thanksgiving, but she was too pooped from all the cooking and eating on Thursday to go out Friday. Plus, she'd had to go to the hospital Friday afternoon. It was just a regular appointment with her cardiologist. But still, with pre-appointment tests and such, it was a lot of walking around and exertion. So she was in no mood to go out to eat after all that. We postponed the birthday dinner till she felt better. That turned out to be the next day.
Denise and I drove over to Temple with some flowers and a few presents Saturday afternoon. Mom loved the flowers, and particularly loved the presents that Denise had picked out. She'd gone to Wal Mart and Penny's on Friday while I was busy taking mom to her medical appointment.
After opening presents at the house, the three of us drove over to the Texas Roadhouse. Mom wanted a steak for her birthday, and she loves the steaks at the Roadhouse. When it came time to order drinks, he had a Top Shelf margarita, Denise had a glass of wine, and I had a tall beer. Ziegenbock, I think. The selection at the TR is lame, so there you go.
I think Denise ordered the 10 oz. Ft, Worth Ribeye, while mom and I had the Dallas Fillet (mom the 6 oz, me the 8). We all had salads, and then the girls ordered baked potatoes. Denise had the stuffed regular tater, and mom the sweet, marshmallow filled variety. As you can see above, I went for the steak fries.
It was all wonderful. We filled up there at the restaurant and then headed back to mom's for a little after diner tipple. I think she had a great time, much of which was due to Denise and the time she spent preparing the presents. She paid close attention to some of the things that mom needed when we were there for Thanksgiving, and then went out the next day and found those things. She's pretty sharp.
During dinner, mom told us that she's having second thought about the hip replacement surgery. She's scheduled to have it in a week or two. She has about 4 different doctors, and two or three of them have been making what mom thinks are snide, disparaging comments about her plans to have the surgery.
I'm not sure what the hall that's all about. The guy who does the surgery is very well thought of. Point is, those comments have fed the doubts in mom's mind, and now that she's having to cut back on her normal regimen of aspirin in preparation for the surgery, she's feeling a lot more pain. I think it's convinced her to just put it all off for now.
I wish I could do something about it all, but she's gonna make the decision on her own. Really, I wouldn't have it any other way. I'm just afraid that if she doesn't go ahead with the surgery I'm gonna be getting a call late some evening and taking her to the ER because she's fallen and broken a hip. That's when the real trouble will begin. But, it's her hip. It's her life.
Anyway, it was a great birthday celebration. Cheers!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Mom's 83rd Birthday.
Posted by FHB at 11:15 AM
Labels: mom's 83rd birthday
2 comments:
Hey FHB=
I haven't stopped by here in a while, but when I saw this post, I wanted to send your Mom some encouragement about her hip. I've had both of mine replaced, at age 54 and 55. First one was a breeze, the second one started out great, but was complicated by an infection. It took almost two months to get that squared away, which sucked, but now everything is really good. The best part is that the pain is gone. When you're hurting, you just kind of get used to it, and don't realize that you're not doing all the stuff you used to. So in the long run, it really gives you a better quality of life. I was on a cane for over two years, and working on my feet the whole time, so it really became tough. Hope this might help.
Scott - Thanks for comin' back by, and thanks for commenting.
Mom decided a while back not to have the surgery. I really wish she had, but at 83, I think the possibility of complications really scared her out of it. I wish she'd go ahead and have it done, or that she'd had it done ten years ago, but she's made up her mind.
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