
Tears are sitting on the edge of my eyes. Filling. . . filling. I wipe it fast before my son sees me. I have a friend who is having a fun Saturday morning get together right now. 10 AM. A morning with the gals. A "retiring from 9-5" party for someone starting her own business. I should be there. Rheumatoid arthritis keeps getting in the way. Everything within me is sitting beneath the surface, ready to erupt grief, frustration, anger, sorrow. My husband has been snoring for years, worse all the time. Gasping for breath. He finally fills out the paperwork for a sleep study. A rep drops off the gadget he should wear at night. "I will be back tomorrow morning to pick it up," he says. But that night I tell my husband it's not a good … [Read more...]








