Calling in Hospice

I've known there's been something a little off for quite a while now.  Adding two extra quarts of oil in the last month was a certain sign of trouble.  This weekend, I finally took her in to the doctor.  The diagnosis?  No leaks - anywhere.  That's not good at all.  For how much oil she's chugging no leaks means no good.  She's dying a slow death.

My old girl, who's really not that old at all - just 10 years.

She's the only car I've ever owned - I've had her since she was 2 and I was 15

She's only got 110,000 miles on her and brand new tires.

She's survived my driving - into wells, over trash bags, through fields, into snowbanks, etc. - years in UNI's parking lots, numerous moves, and hailstorms.

But now she's dying.

I've got two quarts of oil in my trunk for emergency infusions to keep her going as long as I can, but her time is limited.  Thankfully my mom - who just got a promotion and is now in charge of both the New Hampton and Dubuque branch offices of Iowa Hospice (yes, she is a kind of big deal and is incredibly talented at what she does and I am so very proud of her) - was there with me to hear the news.  She's going to provide bereavement support for me through this process.

I'm not even kidding.

I was almost in tears when they told me the news.

I'm just a bit attached to this one. 

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