Let the poor woman die in peace

This whole issue of Terri Schaivo makes me sad. I just wish the rest of the country would butt out of the case. She married her husband and when she did, she made the conscious decision to have him as her next-of-kin. That honor no longer belongs to her parents. Right or wrong, her husband should have the final say as to what should be done.

Turtle and I spent Easter last weekend with my parents. I told them in no uncertain terms, that Turtle has the final say over what happens to me if I can't make my own decisions - whether they like his decision or not. They agreed.

That having been said, I'm going to make a living will a priority because I don't want stuff yanked out of me and reinserted repeatedly because people can't let go.

-Willow

Ouch! My Foot!

It's been 8 weeks since I've been able to walk. Part of me is pissed and part of me just looks at the good side - I'll be able to walk again at some point. Eight weeks ago a 22-year-old woman wasn't paying attention and tried crossing the highway in front of me. She said she didn't see me. How you miss a big, honkin', red Buick LeSabre boat of a car with the lights on is beyond me. Anyway, she pulled out and I nailed her at about 45 mph. Thankfully, something made me swerve at the last minute and instead of hitting where her young daughter was sitting, I hit her front passenger side door. Her daughter was completely unscathed.

To make a very long story short, I now have two titanium screws holding my foot together. I saw my doctor this week and he said that it's healing well. I get to start walking with my robo-boot (Turtle's term) next week. Then in June, the screws come out.

It still aches most of the time and sometimes it's more like a shooting pain. Now I get to buy a new (used) car to replace the Buick which died.

*SIGH*