In the state of Washington it is legal to end your life if you have a terminal illness and if you are able to self administer. You tell your doctor, who refers you to a panel of professionals who ask you a bunch of questions. In a few weeks you go back and do it again. If you pass the hurdles, you get the appropriate prescriptions to have filled. The prescriptions are for anti-emetics and phenobarbitol. Yes, I've asked a few questions of my own. I've been considering taking this route as of late. My progress is ramping up. I'm essentially a quadrapalegic but have full mental faculties and I'm being cared for by people who don't really know me or care about me. Additionally, my husband is here less and less. While I need him more and more. My family visits infrequently. I spend an inordinate amount of time alone and I'm coherent enough to know it. I see the road ahead. I live here. I may as well be dead sooner than later.
I think about my friend, Kate Struby, who died from this horrible disease in 2013. She lived here at Bailey Boushay House before I did. I reached out to Kate online through FaceBook because I loved her photograph with her head thrown back in laughter. I also loved her posts. I guess I just loved her spirit. I got to finally meet her one month before she died. I happened to be at the University of Washington Medical Center for my quarterly appointment when I saw her FaceBook post. She was awake and in the medical ICU. She was a mere few floors down. I would not be stopped. Relativeor no, I would meet my FaceBook friend. Thank God I did. I rolled into the room to find a beautiful, ethere.al woman flanked by two friends. Although it was an impromtu visit, she said she knew me immediately.I was in awe of her with her fiery spirit despite the ravages of our shared disease. She, unable to lift even a finger, lifted my spirit.
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