"The blaring of the alarm cut through what those days could be called a "deep sleep." My mind raced through a mental checklist, which made my heart race and my palms sweat. I wanted to stay in bed, pull the covers over my tear-stained face, and simply melt away into the mattress, escaping from all that lay ahead. I was exhausted even before my feet hit the floor.
That phase of my life was deeply connected to the end of someone else’s, and a new, imposed identification had been added to my human resume: “caregiver.”
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