Between my leg pains, mobility, and my surgery a week from today, I've become very superstitious and anxious. The other day I became convinced I was going to die during the procedure, and Annabelle's clinginess has worried me. Last night, while she was sitting on my lap and we watched Downton Abbey, I noticed she was weeping; actual tears were coming from her eyes. This morning, as I tried to ambulate around the apartment, I obsessed about being able to care for myself much longer. I will be very happy when this procedure is over.