What eventually became a lifestyle choice began with a suicide attempt. Not hers, but her father's. The lifestyle began when June's mother, Carol, found Ted on the floor in the basement, a noose around his neck, a broken rafter that could not sustain his weight, blood, pooling and seeped into the beige Berber carpet, oozing from a gunshot wound to his right temple, red glue through his thin gray hair. It was either the carbon monoxide leaking in through the window from the exhaust of the running car outside or all the Vicodin he'd swallowed that made him too woozy to carry out the other steps successfully. He thought he'd covered all the bases, but, instead, ended up Life Flighted to the shock trauma intensive care unit of St. Joseph's and hooked up to life support for months. Spurts of consciousness, not his will to live, kept the doctors from pulling the plug.