My mother's fine.

For nearly thirty years, my mom's been suffering back pain. When I was an infant, a man-- a friend of the family, no less --tried to rape her. He was painting or freebasing or something, I don't know. He was high on paint fumes, as my mom tells it. I was there, but I was about six months old. He took me from her, and threw me on the couch.

My parents were both black belts in Judo. They taught at their own school. Considering the time, my dad was likely at a tournament, coaching one of his students. (That's how he met Elvis, but I digress.) Anyway, the point is this: he couldn't have chosen a worse person to attack, and he should have known it. She's tiny; barely five feet tall. But that's actually an advantage in Judo. She got him into a choke hold, and knocked him out. Then she called the police.

They asked her why she stopped when he was merely unconscious.

About a year later, she was walking to her day job, when she heard a noise behind her. She twisted to see what it was, and saw his face behind the wheel of the car bearing down on her. She says she remembers every moment up to and including impact, but that the intervening time between impact and landing is gone. She hasn't lived a day without pain during most of my life, and it has only gotten worse.

Today she went in for an operation. Apparently, the conduit that contains all the nerves and tendons in her spine-- I'm too lazy to look up the name --was heavily compressed by the hit-and-run. The doctors are literally removing one of my mom's ribs, to widen the hole and relieve pressure. If this shows positive results, they'll want to remove the opposite rib, to even things up and relieve even more pressure.

She went in at 2:30 this afternoon, and was supposed to be put into intensive care after the operation. I just received a call, she's in post-op, and they're so pleased with her condition that they are moving her to a normal room immediately. I'm going to be able to visit her around 7:30.

I'm breathing again.