Imbalance in the body’s internal temperature Another unexpected effect of insufficient sleep is having cold hands and feet. “Body temperature is also under circadian control… Sleep loss can impair the body’s ability to manage and adjust its internal temperature, causing fluctuations and discomfort in the hands and other extremities,” Ms. Artis explained. Constipation Another study investigated the potential relationship between sleep…
The air in Le Rêve, the city’s most exclusive French restaurant, was thick with the smell of truffle oil, expensive cologne, and aggressive ambition. It was the annual celebration for Apex Solutions, the tech firm where my husband, Mike, worked as a mid-level sales manager. I, Sarah, sat at the edge of the velvet banquette, feeling like an alien…
The smell of gasoline is not something you ever truly get used to, even after forty years as an ER nurse. It is sharp, chemical, and invasive; it clings to the mucous membranes of your throat and settles in your lungs like a toxic fog. But in the sterile halls of St. Jude’s Hospital, that…
“Sign the papers, you old hag!” Travis screamed. His voice was a jagged tear in the air, high-pitched and vibrating with the manic energy of a three-day methamphetamine bender. Spittle flew from his mouth, landing on my cheek. “Do you want to die here? Do you want to burn? Because I don’t care! I swear…
“No more talking!” he shrieked, yanking my hair harder. Tears pricked my eyes, blurring my vision. “I need the money! The transfer! Now! You think you can hoard that land while I’m starving? While I’m hurting?” The papers lay on the coffee table, a cruel juxtaposition next to a coaster Henry had made in his…
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. I wasn’t just afraid of dying; I was afraid of the sheer senselessness of it. To survive decades of trauma care, to survive the death of my husband, only to be incinerated by a junkie in my own sanctuary. But the physical threat wasn’t the…
My daughter was leaning against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. She looked so thin, her collarbones protruding sharply against her stained t-shirt. Her once-lustrous brown hair was dull and matted, pulled back into a messy bun. She took a long, slow drag from a cigarette, blowing the smoke toward the ceiling, mingling the scent…
Lisa sighed, rolling her eyes as if I were a toddler throwing a tantrum over a toy. “And we need the money, Mom. God, stop being so dramatic. What are you going to do with that land anyway? You’re old. You’re retired. You can’t take it with you when you die.” She took another drag,…
Something inside me broke. It wasn’t my spirit—that had been forged in the high-pressure fires of the ER. It was my heart. It simply ceased to function as a vessel for love and turned into a stone of resignation. “Okay,” I whispered, tears leaking from my eyes. Not for myself, but for the memory of…
The chime echoed in the silence that followed. Ding-dong. Travis’s face contorted, shifting from manic triumph to paranoid terror in a heartbeat. He scrambled back, extinguishing the lighter and shoving it into the pocket of his filthy jeans. “Is that the cops?” he hissed, his voice dropping to a strangled whisper. He grabbed me by the…