I pull the fitted sheet tight, smoothing out the wrinkles from the restless night before. If there’s a flat sheet I draw that across, knowing it will still be tucked firm on one side but loose on this side, the one that I’ve slumped out of. I grab the edge of the quilt and lay it flat. I smooth the corners, tuck the top sheet into the bottom left hand corner, and fold the top corner over the quilt. Or quilts. They are all different beds, but I still make them the same way.

Or sometimes I’m only getting up because I have to. Water to drink, heat packs to warm, snacks to eat so I can take more drugs. I flop the corner of the bedding over to one side, slide my legs out, and muster every bit of strength to bring myself up to standing.