These wounds will never heal
May is National Stroke Awareness Month, and I want to share my story of my dad’s journey after his strokes.
Doors open and shut during the early morning hours. I hear the drip dispensing the next dose and some muffled chatter outside the room. Several phones are ringing in all directions, and I listen to alarms going off next door. This means the heart rate is too high.
Snoring beside me, I …







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