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Life in a hospital is easy during the day: you wait for the next IV to finish, for the next result to be delivered, for the next visitor to pop in. But the night always comes and with it, silence. The lights dim down, everyone is quiet and you can hear your own breath. You can hear your own fears. At night, my father told me he would close his eyes, quiet his mind, shut his pain away and imagine he was sleeping at home, on a lazy Sunday morning.