It is 2am. I am sitting at my desk, having taken a while to get the family member I care for settled for the night. I could have chosen to go to sleep. Instead, I chose to write. By this time of night, my eyes are tired and my vision is beginning to blur, but the need to get my words onto the page feels stronger than my exhaustion. The only sounds I can hear are the ticking of the kitchen clock, the low hum of the hospital bed, and the heating switching itself on at intervals