Here I sit, comfortably, in my living room. My best friend in the entire world is in pain right now. Her knees are killing her. She's been forced to go off the very meds that would help. Why, you ask? Because she is getting the aforementioned knees replaced in a week from tomorrow.
She has Rheumatoid Arthritis, and has had it for nearly 30 years. She didn't deserve it. Not at all. She was gorgeous, young, funny, sweet, and snarky. She is all of these still, just older. (just a bit)
This is my sister. She and I have been best friends for -- well, forever. I don't know if she knows that she is my best friend. She's the person I call when I'm happy, and the person I call when I am sad. She's the person I ask for advice when I am arguing with a friend, and the one I think of when I am so mad I could throw things. She's a calming influence, a stimulating conversationalist, and a loving big sister.
But really? She's my bestest friend in the entire world. [Note: My mom is also my bestest momfriend, but she's my mom, and that's a whole other category.]
I'm dying of anxiety because she is going to get surgery. Again. My best friend is gonna hurt. More. Again. God. I don't hurt anywhere, in any significant way. How is this the least bit fair? I just hope like hell the doctors do a spectacular job, and maybe give her a complimentary boob job while they are in there. (Her boobs are perfect, but honestly, shouldn't you get some kind of frequent-flier miles for surgeries?)
If you're a praying/meditating/juju-sending kind of person, please send some towards the Southwest USA on Wednesday of next week. And maybe juju for a pro-bono boob job or something.