“She Just Doesn’t Want to Work,” My Mother Told Her Nursing Staff About My Condition. I Silently Slid My Medical File Across the Table to Her Chief of Medicine. Her Next Shift Was Her Last.

me with the hollow, pre-grieving feeling that came whenever something that had been managing symptoms needed to be reconsidered. By the time I left Dr. Harrison’s office, I was too exhausted to drive home without food and too honest with myself to pretend otherwise.

The fatigue was not the ordinary kind. It was not the tired that follows a late night continue reading …