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Sign Your Life Away

I don't know what can be more volatile than dealing with a Power of Attorney; durable, general, or limited. It feels as if I'm signing away my rights, as well as my power; to sell my car, to sell my portion of property, to even have a say in how I am treated prior to and after my death.   My husband and I are wrestling with that question now. He asks, "What's the big deal? It's so simple."  While my brain screams, "How can you not get this?  And how can you be so callous?!"

ALS is robbing me of physical control. This feels like my last bastion of control and the "what ifs" abound.    What if you decide you don't love me anymore? What if you get sick of all this stuff and leave? What if you fall in love again and I'm still alive and physically incapacitated?   What if two years down the road, (I am unable to have sex or you're not inclined to have sex with me), and you have a dalliance with either a caregiver or a stranger? What is my recourse?

This issue was dropped on my doorstep today, upon my return from water aerobics class. My husband had gone to sell my car and sign over title when he learned that he needed my signature. (I had already told him this.)  He whipped the issue up, stating that he'd need my power of attorney to sell the car and when he was ready to sell pieces of property and eventually when he'd have to make end of life decisions for me. Suddenly, he is all "Gung Ho" to hire an attorney at $180 per hour, to draw up these critical documents on our behalf.  Yeah, this is the same guy who balks at spending $40.00 on our marriage counselor.


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