My daughter-in-law laughed as she gave me a $2 scratch-off for my 73rd birthday. Ten months later, my own son shoved a senior living brochure in front of me and said, “We already picked your room.” They thought I was too old to fight back. They had no idea what I had been hiding.

Priya Menon, my longtime physician, for a routine appointment I had scheduled before any of this began.

I told her about my move, my grief after Arthur’s death, and the tension with Colin.

She listened without rushing me.

We reviewed my medications, my health history, and the practical things I could do to remain independent as I aged.

I was not seeking a certificate that said I was a good old lady.

I wanted sound medical advice and a clear record of my decisions.

Dr.