The yellow folder

"I can't tell you what it means to us. Now I know what to do. I won't be calling the ambulance anymore. I know whom to call. I know who will have time to talk to me. It's all here in the folder. Everything we need to do. Everyone we need to contact. The nurse from Health Links helped me put it together. I keep it with me everywhere we go. Even the funeral home knows about us, though I hope they don't think we'll need them anytime soon." "This time it'll be me who kills him, not them." A pause in the conversation to digest her words. Then she added, "I don't mean that quite the way it sounded, but I'm sure you understand." "Dear," she said patting my hand with hers, "it's such a joy to talk to you. I feel better when we talk. But we both know the truth. I just need help accepting it."