I love a good courtroom drama. I even quite enjoy a bad one! Despite the fact that the reality of trials, courtrooms, judges, juries and lawyers bears no resemblance to what is portrayed in movies and TV series, I am happy to suspend reality and embrace the story. Give me a likeable defendant, a naive lawyer, an irascible judge, mounting evidence, clever cross-examination and an impassioned closing argument, and I am in heaven. Better still, throw in a 'surprise witness' at the climax of the trial - particularly one which renders everything that has gone before moot or one which would have rendered the whole trial unnecessary from the beginning because their testimony clearly absolves the defendant or (more rarely) proves their guilt. 

In the matter of Sue's 'trial' we were visited by a 'surprise witness' in the early hours of yesterday. Evidence was steadily mounting toward a 'conviction' that Sue's bowel was completely obstructed. Like the mythical troll-guarded bridge, it seemed that 'none shall pass'. Then, like a thunder-clap (literally), a surprise witness introduced explosive new evidence and 'quashed our conviction'! While this initially brought some physical and emotional relief, it also caused its own new turmoil. It now appears that the new evidence may not be entirely reliable.

I have watched A Few Good Men more than a few times and never tire of the moment when Col Jessup (Jack Nicholson) explodes with a spittle-peppered and slightly maniacal tirade that commences with the (now famous) phrase "You can't handle the truth" and proceeds to lay out to Kaffee (Tom Cruise) and to the court the 'realities of life' (at least as he sees them!)

The ebb and flow of the trial excites and intrigues us, but the innate and God-implanted desire to know 'the truth' is deep within us all. There are realities of life for all of us that are understood and carried as they are shared.

So perhaps it is time to stop having fun with the metaphors, inferences and innuendos (oh, there is a pun on that last word that it excruciating to leave alone...) and say plainly that Sue's physical health continues to decline. She is taking fluids well and regularly, but has no desire (and probably minimal capacity) to eat. Her pain and discomfort is variable but increasing, so overnight we have gone back to medications being delivered subcutaneously rather than orally for better and quicker effect. She is sleeping (reasonably) well and often, but tires easily. She is still interested in who is in the house and what is going on, and not beyond issuing the odd reminder or directive. 

Notwithstanding the pain and discomfort, and the knowing that death comes that bit closer each day, Sue is in good spirits and often sleepily responds to my question "How are you doing, sweetheart?" with a raised thumb peeking out from under the sheet next to her mischievous little smirk and the words "Life is good". Indeed it is my darling, indeed it is.

Forget A Few Good Men, God has blessed us with One Exceptional Woman.

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