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It’s morning at Meadow Brook Nursing Home. During the last ten months, this has been my mother’s abode. Most days, I feel it is mine, too. Life, as I have known it, is a blur. Alzheimer’s has taken Mother from herself, her family, and her friends. It has demanded a grit and grace in our everyday lives beyond human comprehension. “I am tormented! Help me! Take this torment away! Help me! Help me! Help me,” she screams. Daily I have fought to do that, to bring peace to her life. With every utterance, my heart is torn apart, and I cry out to God to not forsake us in our fight. This disease has taken us from the heights of Heaven to the pits of Hell. Today is different. After my second 36-hour shift at Meadow Brook this week, sleep comes in moments for me or not at all, causing me to be exhausted within and without. Hallway lights outside Room 2128 announce the arrival of the first shift. The quiet peace of the night will soon be replaced with the bustle and activity of a new day, a

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