AS HAMLET SAID, “To sleep, perchance to dream.” The sleep he was referring to was the sleep of death, but this is my own take. I’ve never been the greatest sleeper around. It’s a rare night that allows me three consecutive hours of sound sleep, although I do manage most nights to total up enough hours to get by. Unfortunately, I haven’t had a decent night in a few weeks. I rub my post-surgery eye in my sleep, which wakes me up (and adds to recovery time). My sciatica, which was barely a whimper before my surgery, has reared its ugly head (hip?) since I’ve been unable to do the workouts that seemed to be helping. On the best of nights, the last few hours in the morning have been achey (and wakey).
Even when I do sleep, I’m constantly on the move (that’s why it’s called Moving with Mitchell). I sleep on my side with four pillows — two under my head, one between my knees (to stabilize the hip), and another to hug. One or another ends up on the floor a few times during the night. I wake up at least once every night with my head next to the pillows instead of on them.
I sleep with a top sheet. I get it caught in my arms and twisted around my legs. I swing my arms and knock the lamp off the night table.
And then there’s the constant problem of my over-active brain. “Shut up!” I tell it but it doesn’t listen. I wish I had a switch. As you can imagine, I’m not the best of sleeping partners. Then again, neither is San Geraldo — but that’s another story.
Oh, to be our cats. Yes, they take catnaps and seem to be ever-vigilant. But they can sleep (or lounge) for hours at a time.
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COMO DIJO HAMLET: “Dormir, tal vez soñar”. El sueño al que se refería era el sueño de la muerte, pero lo entiendo. Nunca he tenido el mejor sueño. Es una noche rara que me permite tres horas consecutivas de sueño profundo, aunque lo hago casi todas las noches para acumular suficientes horas para pasar. Desafortunadamente, no he tenido una noche decente en unas pocas semanas. Froto mi ojo después de la cirugía mientras duermo, lo que me despierta (y aumenta el tiempo de recuperación). Mi ciática, que apenas era un gemido antes de mi cirugía, ha levantado su fea cabeza (¿cadera?) ya que no he podido hacer los entrenamientos que parecían estar ayudando. En la mejor de las noches, las últimas horas de la mañana han sido dolorosas (y de mal gusto).
Incluso cuando duermo, estoy constantemente en movimiento (es por eso que se llama Moviéndose con Mitchell). Duermo de lado con cuatro almohadas, dos debajo de la cabeza, una entre las rodillas (para estabilizar la cadera), y otra para abrazar. Uno u otro termina en el suelo varias veces durante la noche. Me despierto al menos una vez cada noche con la cabeza al lado de las almohadas en lugar de sobre ellas.
Duermo con una sábana encimera. Lo atrapo en mis brazos y retorcidos alrededor de mis piernas. Balanceo los brazos y apago la lámpara de la mesita de noche.
Y luego está el problema constante de mi cerebro hiperactivo. “¡Cállate!” lo digo pero no escucha. Desearía tener un interruptor. Como puedes imaginar, no soy la mejor pareja para dormir. Por otra parte, tampoco lo es San Geraldo, pero esa es otra historia.
Oh, ¡para ser nuestros gatos! Sí, toman siestas y parecen estar siempre vigilantes. Pero pueden dormir (o descansar) durante horas a la vez.
Y la cama, la mañana después de moviéndose con Mitchell
Cats mock all of us with their amazing sleep capability.
Debra:
They mock us all any way they can.
awwwwwwwwwwwww, sweet dreams little pussies! I hear ya about the rough sleeping; my insomnia kicks in every so often, like the past few nights.
anne marie:
Both sleeping the sleep of cats right now. I just got up from a siesta that didn’t happen.
Gregg is the one with sleep issues in this house, but I don’t sleep nearly as soundly and well as I did when I was younger.
My two lazy dogs got up this morning, ate their breakfast, went out to pee, and then went back to sleep. When I was leaving for work, I called to them to say goodbye. They wouldn’t even bother to get up and see me out! They sleep in the a/c all day while we work.
Jennifer:
Moose sleeps in the AC in Jerry’s office in summer. Dudo sleeps in the warmth of the terrace. In winter, Dudo doesn’t leave Jerry’s heated office and Moose sleeps out on the cool terrace. And they rarely see us off!
I feel your pain, Scoot! I’d send you a hug, but it may hurt. I’m a side sleeper, and I like to switch off sides during the night. I now am now the miserable possessor of a glucose sensor (Freestyle Libre) that stays in my upper arm for 14 days and then switches to the other. If you sleep on it, it stops working. It is so very hard to just sleep on one side all night. Enter the adjustable bed, with the hard mattress! I now sleep sitting up with my bed in the taco position. Right when I’m finally getting into the sleep zone, kindle book dropping onto the bed, The ol’ bladder starts up. The legs have to come down from their upright position and I have to struggle like a turtle on its back trying to get up without peeing on myself, and hoping I don’t accidently scrape the sensor off of my arm. It almost makes me want to go back to finger pricking instead.
I WANT TO BE A CAT!!!!!!! I hope you feel better soon, Scoot.
Deedles:
I can’t imagine sleeping with that sensor! You didn’t have that when you were camping, did you? As for me, today is NOT the day for feeling better soon. But it will come. I think the eye is doing fine, just dry. The sciatica is at its worst since early this morning. The last time this happened, it was suddenly non-existent for a few days. Here’s hoping.
Where I go, the sensor goes! I remembered to bring the insulin pen, the needles and the monitor. Yay for me, until I realized that I forgot the chart that tells me how much insulin to inject according to the numbers. I played it by ear, knowing that my numbers would be high, so I think I did okay. So far, the count has been over 4oo on several occasions. This is when the thing tells you to shoot up 22mls and call your doctor. I just take the shot and go about my business. I have learned that Fritos will eventually kill me. So, if something happens and no one hears from me again, I probably got done in by corn chips 🙂
Deedles:
I LOVE Fritos and can think of worse ways to go. Fritos and peanut butter on whole wheat bread. I haven’t had that for years. THAT would be a major treat. Despite the major inconvenience of the illness and the paraphernalia, I’m glad you still go camping (it’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it).
Oh, heavens, that’s a whole lot of restlessness! I know how I hate it when I can’t fall asleep (invariably when I really have to get some sleep).
Judy:
And doesn’t it always seem that when you really need to get that sleep it doesn’t come? Heading to the airport at 6 a.m.? Finally fall asleep at 5!
Cat sleep eludes me. It’s rare when I can sleep through the night (but it still happens once in a while). I’m up and down the stairs, doing stretching exercises to calm the “restless leg syndrome.” When the legs calm down, the brain goes into full gear. If all the stars seem to align, the dog will jump up and use me for a pillow. Actually, she’s getting better at not doing that. She still jumps up, but finds her own space.
Walt the Fourth:
Oh, RLS! I had that for years, which chased Jerry out of bed most nights. But I haven’t had it since we moved to Spain!
Model the kitties, sleep whenever and wherever you can. J often has difficulty sleeping, I seldom do.
David:
Whenever and wherever doesn’t work. I wish it did. And the positions the cats take. I wish!
I’m reminded in of a story in the comic strip Get Fuzzy. Bucky invites a bunch of his fellow felines over to the apartment so they can plot world domination. But the cats end up sleeping instead.
Kirk:
That is brilliant!
I have the same problems (almost) as Deeles. If I only get up twice a night I am so happy ! Still no sleep but better.
parsnip
Parsnip:
I call it a goodnight if I only wake up a few times. How I envy people who sleep like their cats.