I have just phoned Daughter 1.
The conversation went something like this.
NM: Well, how are things?
D1: Grand. We're just waiting for her to come out of surgery. Should be about twenty minutes.
My thoughts: What surgery? Am I supposed to know about this? Did Daughter 1 tell me her dog was going to the vets for an operation and I've forgotten? I'm always forgetting what people tell me. Sometimes I just don't listen enough. I try to cover up my foolishness.
NM: So, this was a planned surgery?
D1: Not exactly, but they did say she should come in fasting, just in case.
NM: Look, I know this is going to sound stupid but I'm not sure what you're talking about. Is it Maya?
D1: It's Martha. She had an appointment at the Royal Victoria Hospital for Sick Children this morning. They decided to set her fracture under anaesthetic.
Explanation. Martha fractured her right pinky finger before Christmas whilst doing headstands. She is very into gymnastics and what her great-grandmother Martha would have called 'cutting capers'. It has been in a splint since then and did not keep her back in the slightest. I had been informed about today's appointment and did forget about it.
Update: she's fine. She was the only patient in her department today and got lots of attention and then they kicked her out as soon as they possibly could. She'll be back to cutting capers, and playing the clarinet and piano as soon as she can. Well done, NHS. We're really lucky to have you.