Leilah woke up and the room spun as she began to move. She turned her head, looked around, and pondered for a minute or two — "I hope I have more energy today." She sat up, sighed, and reached for her pills and the glass of water on her nightstand. She swallowed her meds, jotting down the time and dosage in her notebook. Leilah remained seated for another couple of minutes, grasping tightly at her knees and whispering a silent prayer. Her body ached; the crepitus in her joints — the dry creaking sound of narrowed joint spaces — made her cringe. Her neck, back, and knees hurt. She slid off the bed and stood, waiting a few seconds for the dizziness to subside. "Okay," she thought, "better get going." Leilah completed her morning routine and headed down to the main floor. The house, which was once lively with her kids’ voices, her husband’s warmth, and the dogs’ playfulness, was now silent. The dogs were long gone, her husband had passed away a few years bac...