We've reached the rally point.

The phone rings, and I wonder whether it's one of the boys. Don't have to wait long to find out.

"Hi Andy! How are things at Ft. Campbell?"

The boys are checking in, one by one, seeing how their mom is faring as we get ready for the procedure.

There isn't a lot of concern expressed, and conversation stays light. How are things at the base? When's your graduation from Air Assault? How are plans shaping up for Thanksgiving and Christmas visits to Florida?

Everyone is pretty confident things are going to be fine. Statistically there isn't much to be concerned about. Amazingly, the surgery will be outpatient.

Besides what chair will provide the legs-up support for Laura prescribed by the post-operative literature and packing a novel for me for during the procedure, our main concerns are when to go to miss the rush hour traffic and what I'll have to eat while I'm waiting during the surgery at lunchtime.

Laura tells me that in her pre-operative discussions with the nurse she was told that she'll be on a self-medication regimen for pain, and that she should "stay ahead of it" rather than wait to feel the pain before dosing.

I lift an eyebrow. I have a mental image of her dosing herself into a coma.

"Well, she talked about if I have to get up for any reason or move around, I should dose first," she explained.

So, the yard is mowed, the laundry's done, groceries are stocked, there's gas in the tank, and our friends and church family are praying.

We should be good to go.