Settlement talks have come to a stalemate at a number that is below what we can accept. So, we are moving ahead with the trial.
Today was the urologist and psychiatrist. I attended. Not a thrilling day.
Tomorrow is Tugboat in the morning, then the Nurse Case Manager (and author of The Lifecare Plan), then I go. I'll be prepping tonight until who knows when.
Wednesday is our economist and then our case is rested. The defense is only putting up three witnesses, so they are estimating we will be finished by the end of the week.
Our lawyers are totally baffled because it seems like the defense is not mounting a defense. He doesn't write notes. He doesn't cross-examine. He looks bored. It must appear to the jury like he's going to pull some huge smoking gun out of his hat at the end. But, he isn't. It's the weirdest thing. I keep asking if his lame representation could affect us at all and our lawyers assure me it won't.
The Bird is like the frayed end of an old, broken rope. She's fried. She's edgy, weepy, whiny, needy, nasty and generally miserable. I keep making apologies for her, but I shouldn't because OF COURSE SHE IS. I am too. I'm just a little better and keeping it together.
Well, not much better.