I truly believe that we grossly underestimate how much this disease affects us, as family members, every.single.hour of every.single.day.  Even when we’re not actively thinking about it or worrying about something specific, it’s there, taking up space in our minds.  What if she gets to the point where Eason House can’t take care of her?  What if the money runs out?  How long will this go on?  When is the phone going to ring with someone on the other end delivering bad news? What if these little things I notice in myself are signs that I’m next?  It never stops.  And it’s just exhausting.

Until next time…Carpe diem…

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