She is tough as an oak, my girl.

Yankee Irish tough. New England won't give up tough.

Sunday she wanted to go to church. She'd missed it a couple of weeks in a row and she wanted to go so I said sure. We live maybe one hundred and twenty yards from the front door of the church, maybe less than that. It's right across the street.

It took us about eight minutes to get over there and when we got inside she was exhausted. I asked her if she wanted to go in and sit down or go home.

"Home."

So we spent another ten minutes crossing the street and getting home.

She's just exhausted.

Today she had physical therapy and it's a forty-five minute session but I guess they really worked her. She got home and crawled into bed and is sleeping now.

If you've ever seen the footage of the old Muhammad Ali vs Joe Frazier fights, that's what's going on. You get to like the seventh round and Ali is just pounding on the top of Joe's head and Joe is knocked out but he's the only one who doesn't know it. His legs are like tree trunks and he keeps staggering around and getting hit.

She's just too tough.