Ibuprofen. Saline sinus rinse. I shut my bedroom door at night as part of an amicable agreement with the downstairs neighbor who can't sleep with carooming cats overhead. The cats miss me, and leave me offerings of bottle caps pushed under the door. I'm certain the rabbits are concerned about me, but also have nervous private conversations about who will let them out of their pen in the event I expire. And who will feed the cats to keep them from getting hungry and remembering who they really are.
As I flush out my face a paw reaches up to stroke the fingers of the hand bracing me against the sink. A wide-eyed face stares at me from its perch atop the litter box. I do not go unnoticed.