She sat in the corner, legs on a footstool, lips a tight thin line.
“It’s a hard decision, but your mother’s end-of-life care is important. She struggles to stand. Marie’s a first-rate carer.”
Peter shook his head. “Doctor, I don’t think…”
"At her age, it’s best.”
Peter shrugged.
Two weeks later…
“How are we, Martha? I’m Marie, remember? Shall we get breakfast for you…? Don’t get up...”
“Had breakfast at 6.30.” Martha put trainers on. “Leg injury’s recovered completely. I’m ready for my run.”
Marie gawped.
“Didn’t they check? I still train for marathons. You’re my carer girl; keep up.”
“It’s a hard decision, but your mother’s end-of-life care is important. She struggles to stand. Marie’s a first-rate carer.”
Peter shook his head. “Doctor, I don’t think…”
"At her age, it’s best.”
Peter shrugged.
Two weeks later…
“How are we, Martha? I’m Marie, remember? Shall we get breakfast for you…? Don’t get up...”
“Had breakfast at 6.30.” Martha put trainers on. “Leg injury’s recovered completely. I’m ready for my run.”
Marie gawped.
“Didn’t they check? I still train for marathons. You’re my carer girl; keep up.”
