'Sleep is a reconciling,
A rest that peace begets
Doth not the sun rise smiling,
When fair at e'en he sets?'
I always liked that poem, attributed to John Donne. Markus had a fair morning, and I was so happy he could speak to me, though in a whisper. The night hadn't been good, and he'd been struggling for breath. But we talked a bit in the morning before he settled down to sleep and I went to the doctor's for his tablets…