Chapter 21 - MY WORKThe drugging affected more than breakfast.
I had made mistakes at work.
Not catastrophic.
Enough.
I was a senior architectural project manager overseeing hospital renovations.
Three weeks into Eleanor’s tea routine, I missed a fire-code coordination meeting.
I had never missed one.
Another day I sent an outdated drawing set to a contractor.
Caught within an hour.
No construction error.
Still embarrassing.
My supervisor asked whether I needed medical leave.
I almost cried from relief.
Not punishment.
Concern.
I took four weeks.
During leave, toxicology specialists explained that intermittent sedative exposure could plausibly contribute to the drowsiness and memory problems I described.
Could they assign every bad morning to Eleanor?
No.
Stress was real too.
Sleep deprivation real.
May you like
Bodies are not forensic clocks.
I learned to live without claiming more than evidence gave me.
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