Arizona Attorney - February 2015

valuables. The summary of each asset should include how title is held and beneficiary designations, if any. Liabilities such as residential mortgages, credit lines, credit cards, car loans and personal guaranties should be described in sufficient detail so that your successor can easily surmise how much is owed and whether there is borrowing capacity to cover short-term cash obligations in the event of an emergency. Last, the roadmap should include a summary of each insurance policy— life, disability, medical, property and casualty—and should include the policy description and the agent’s contact information.

Bills. Online bill pay is a great way to facilitate bill payments. We now run all bills through one cash management system that both of us have access to. QuickBooks, Quicken and other software programs are great tools once they are set up to administer and reconcile your monthly inflows and outflows. Make sure your successors have access and the appropriate information necessary to continue paying your bills and replenishing the accounts that are being drained. Without that information, your family members may need an attorney to ascertain what documents or proceedings are necessary to give them control over your affairs.

Liquidity and cash reserves. For years
Kathy and I set money aside to
cover an unforeseen emergency. The
amounts ranged, but I always tried to
keep at least six months of reserve on
hand. And in a fortuitous stroke of
good luck, four months prior to her
diagnosis we liquidated a significant
investment. This cushion allowed us
to never be concerned with finances
during the course of her treatment
even though it coincided with one
of the broadest market devaluations
ever, the Great Recession beginning
in 2008. Stocks, bonds, real estate,
Treasuries—there was no area of the
market that performed well. Our fam-
ily emergency occurred at the time
our expenses were increasing and our
income and assets were depleting
rapidly. Even though I could liquidate
stocks to generate cash, I was not
excited about selling at all-time lows.
The bank cancelled our home equity
line of credit. Fewer clients needed my
services, therefore the revenue from
my practice was cut in half. Going for-
ward, I expect that I will keep at least
six months of expenses in cash and
another six months in relatively liquid
investments.

Kathy was in the hospital for three weeks in January receiving her second round of chemotherapy. Unfortunately, the treatment was also unsuccessful at eliminating her defective blood cells. Defeated, we stopped treatment again and decided to perform the spleenectomy in advance of the stem-cell transplant. This meant she would be coming home again to recover and gain strength for the surgery.

When I heard that she would be coming home, I pulled into a parking lot and vomited. The cumulative effect of the stress and lack of sleep was taking its toll on my body, and the thought of her returning to our germ factory of a household in an immune-deficient state sent me over the edge. I had become accustomed to the safety and precautions of the hospital and was not sure I was prepared at home. Kathy had begun to take more pain medications, and it was becoming more difficult to have rational, meaningful conversations with her about her health, the kids or anything of substance. Without her to talk with, I was isolated and afraid.

In mid-February she returned to the
hospital to begin her third round of chemo
in preparation for the transplant. Three
days later an infection developed and we
had to stop again. We were losing the only
thing keeping us going—hope. Kathy’s
chances of surviving more than three
months had diminished to less than 10
percent, and we were running out of
options. By this time the household was
running better, but Kathy’s prognosis was
starting to wear on me. And the stock
market was falling daily, the Arizona real
estate economy teetering on insolvency.

Halfway through her third round of pre-transplant “super-man chemo” in late February, Kathy was emotionally down. She hadn’t seen the kids for a while and was emotionally drained and depressed. With her immune system compromised and her past bouts of pneumonia, the doctors were recommending no visitors, especially young children. To keep her in touch with the kids, we tried nightly phone calls, video phones, email and Skype, but nothing replaces being present with your loved ones. I could see defeat in her eyes. I tried everything, but nothing would raise her spirit.

Finally, I told her I would bring the kids to see her. On a cold and windy Sunday afternoon I told the kids I was going up to the hospital and they were coming with me. Ryan got quiet; Rachel cried. Neither child wanted to go. It took me two hours to cajole them into the car. They sat in the back seat and refused to talk to me. I lectured them on how it was a difficult time and they needed to be “strong for mom.” Rachel rolled the window down and we froze the entire way there; when we arrived, she would not get out of the car. Somehow Ryan convinced her to join us.

We reached a small room off Kathy’s wing and I left to get her. When I returned with Kathy and Bertha (her name for the ever-present rolling IV and monitor carrier), we sat down to play Rummy Cube, a board game. However, before the game could begin, I went to a bathroom to have my third total breakdown. I was crushed at the thought that this could be the last time