Camera worries

Once again my lovely camera is being taken from me for an entire weekend, going to places far more exciting than I have ever been. And though the thief promises that it will return safe and sound and quite possibly with a T-shirt from one of the concerts stuffed into the bag, I am not entirely reassured. I can't even say how much I love my camera, and if it gets broken....
But it won't. More rational at this point is the fear that it won't come back at all. Last time she needed it, it was for an actual emergency. Rachel's camera was in the shop, and she had a concert to photograph that night. I reluctantly agreed to let her use mine-- as already stated, my uses for it that weekend were nowhere near as cool or important as hers. I've often thought that I don't deserve my Canon, which has about a zillion features I'll never know how to use. Usually these insecurities are quelled by a little capitalist pep-talk: "You worked for it, you bought it. It's a free country, and you can carry around an eight-hundred dollar camera and use only the automatic setting if you want." But this time they came back with a vengeance, especially as Rachel began to ask questions about how to use it. "What settings to you keep it on?" Settings? "Um, you know, whatever. Depends on what I'm doing. I'm not sure what I left them on last time, but of course you can change them if you want."
"How do you do that?" Gulp.
"Uh, this one here does aperture, I think. Really, just whatever you feel like doing. I'll throw the manual in there too."
She took the camera from me and examined it for a second before twisting the dials and changing numbers faster than I could think. "There. That should do it."
I wasn't sure what would do it, but we were a long way from automatic.