About a year ago, we realized that we had been too careful about sharing the not-so-good information about my health. Michael had several conversations with a variety of relatives over a short period of time and came to the conclusion that they still expected me to recover from this disease.
This began the “she is dying” conversation peroid. He talked to every relative and said, “Do you realize that she is dying?” I didn’t stop him at first because I thought he needed to settle it within his own body and saying it helped.
After a few months, I asked him to stop. I also reminded him that everyone is on the road to death but mine is just a known and shorter road.
The resident who was my doctor initially, gave me just a few years to live. When Dr. K. arrived on the scene, I asked if I needed to buy a cemetery plot and get everything in order. I also asked, “Are we looking at a few years or when I am 70-years old?”
She turned, looked me in the eye and said; “I think we can limp you along to 70!”
This past week, I told Michael that we are going with Dr. K. She has been right about everything else. Let’s not plan to bury me yet.
Besides, he is not going to get rid of me that easily!
Next: Sing-a-Long
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