We’ve all had those moments. Those transcendental moments between sleeping and waking in the morning. Those moments where we somehow slip seamlessly from the vivid reality of our dreams to the dozing slumber of our bed.
Lying there, still somnolent, I used to try to orient myself to the day. Was it a weekend? Could I roll back into the arms of slumber and ignore the clock? Was it a weekday with a calendar filled with deadlines where I had to leap up and fuel my adrenaline with caffeine? Was my husband still sleeping beside me or had he already gotten up or, perhaps, was traveling and hadn’t been in bed at all?
I no longer have those somewhat delicious waking thoughts in the morning. Thanks to RA, my first thought in the morning is now, “Where does it hurt?”. I’ve traveled well beyond the boundary of, “Does it hurt?” …
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