Journal: 113.07.20

Dad's funeral was this morning. It helped more than I thought it would. Just... making a point of saying a loving goodbye, of hearing some words of comfort, of having friends and family in support. Helped.

And now, for the next... eight hours or so, Sinikka is in surgery, getting her Capsuleer implants and ascending to the ranks of the pod pilots.

On the one hand, it's a comfort to know that my Shenane will be just as indestructible as I am, that she'll be around for as long as we choose to be.

On the other hand, I can't help but worry. It's an invasive procedure, becoming a capsuleer. The process has changed since I got my implants, though. Now they don't worry about most of the implants, they just prepare a clone body full of them for you, then Infomorph you straight over. It's an uncomfortable thought, like getting podded before even stepping into the pod.

But it's apparently got a much, much higher success and safety rate. Nearly 100%. 

Nearly. And because she's my sister, I worry about that tiny uncertainty more than I should.

Save. End.