The hits just keep comin'

I just got a phone call from Mom--she's broken her hip. Again. I don't know any of the particulars yet; the hospital she's at can't seem to locate her. This is not surprising to me, since this is the same hospital that I'm partially convinced killed my Dad 11 years ago through post-op incompetence. What does surprise me is why Mom would choose to go to that butcher shop for healing, but I'm sure she has her reasons.
My Mom is what the British call "indefatigable". Very little fazes her for more than a few moments, and even though she appears to be a sourpuss to some, I have found her to be the most resilient and encouraging person I've ever met. Throughout my peripatetic life, she has remained a constantly supportive and comforting presence. (I suppose me saying that isn't really news--that's what moms are supposed to be, right?)
My final test (a whole body PET scan) will be run on Monday, with chemo to begin later in the week, rendering me (presumably) completely unable to help with Mom's recovery, which sucks. I was fully able to help out last time, and even though Mom didn't require too much assistance, I think I was at least some comfort to her just for being on the spot. Been a pretty bad year so far, except for the wedding, of course, huh? Sheesh.