I hate mornings. I do not like waking up to an alarm blaring and the light streaming
into my eyes. I’m a slow starter, but once I am up, I can operate at full throttle, and
this particular Wednesday was no exception. Bobby rolled into the front door of my
practice in his wheelchair, cussing and complaining about the list of recent wrongs and
general ineptitude of the staff at the assisted living facility he reluctantly called home.
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