NOTIONS: Blowing away the ‘I have my rights’ smokescreen
I’m looking out the window of the hospital room where my wife, Pam, is staying. It’s a beautiful day. Soft white clouds dot the brilliant sky. In the courtyard below, between the hospital and the cancer center, a young woman sits on a bench. She’s pretty, in her sleek leather jacket and tight jeans. Her auburn hair glistens in the sun and brushes her shoulders in the breeze. In one hand, she holds a Palm Pilot. I imagine she’s reading…