DIARY OF AN INSOMNIAC REVISITED

Months ago I wrote about my challenges with sleeping. If you want to read that post, the link is http://lumpyone.blogspot.com.au/2015/08/diary-of-insomniac.html. Well, I'm devastated to report that nothing has changed since then...nothing...nothing...nothing.

# wishfulthinking #not me #wishitwas

Once upon a time in a  land long gone ( teenage land), I used to sleep and I used to sleep well. I can still remember my mother's threats as to what she would do to me if I didn't get my sorry butt out of bed ASAP. I didn't care. I had a serious love affair going with my pillow and as in all love stories it was worth taking a risk.

Fast forward to my "almost fifty year old" body and an accompanying state of chronic insomnia and chronic exasperation. Maybe I should have heeded my mother. Is it possible I used all my sleep allotment in my teenage years? Welcome to another night in my life.

9.30 pm - Getting sleepy. Start thinking sleepy thoughts and muttering positive affirmations that I AM going to sleep and I AM going to sleep well (some bs I picked up somewhere about changing my thinking).
10.00pm - Get into bed and kiss husband goodnight.
10.05pm - Husband is asleep and emitting level 1 snoring.
10.10pm - Get out of bed as forgot to take medication and need to use bathroom again.
10.15 pm - Back in bed.

10.30pm - Hear a creaking noise. Worry that we are being broken into. For only the millionth time wish Harry (our dog who passed away 2 years ago) was still around. Run through what Harry would have done to any intruder caught on our property. Run through every break in story I've heard of in the last ten years. Note to self - get quotes on more security screens.
11.00 pm - Get up to investigate creaking noise. Its just the pergola creaking. Note to self to ring and get a quote on replacing said pergola.
11.30pm - Level 2 snoring has started from person next to me. I try to relax but it's impossible.
11.35pm - Lying on my back I feel like I am being suffocated by my reconstructed breasts. I feel like I suddenly have two cannonballs strapped to my chest. So I turn to my right and try to relax. Anyone who thinks fake boobs are desirable should try sleeping with them first.
11.36pm - What's that noise? Bug zapper in the kitchen has caught something and the whole house now smells of dead, burnt bug. Note to self - ask husband to move it so I can see the clock behind it. I don't want to touch the dirty thing.
12.00am - Watch clock tick over to a new day.
12.05am - Muscles in my leg start to throb. Maybe I'm imagining it. Maybe I'm dreaming it. Now is not the time for an attack of sciatica.
12.30am - Apparently yes, it is. Weird convolutions in bed as I try to massage my lower back as the physiotherapist taught me. Note to self - make appointment to see him.
1.00am - Get out of bed and go hunting for pain killers. Move every box in the cupboard to reach box of Nurofen at the back. Grab ipad and glasses and retreat to spare room bed.
1.30am - Wide awake so read Facebook, update blog, talk to people in America, check out Instagram.
2.00am - Tablets starting to work and feeling sleepy. Put ipad away.
2.15am - Need to use bathroom.

2.30am - Wonder who else is awake. Consider ringing father who undoubtedly is also awake.
3.00am - Still awake but at least not in pain. Think boring things to try and trick myself into sleeping. Go through personal medical history.
3.15am - Get up to find a blanket. Can't risk closing the window as noise would wake husband on other side of house and we couldn't have that!
4..00am - I think I must have slept.
5.00am - Hear husband's alarm clock. I refuse to open my eyes.
5.15am - Birds are making a racket. It's ok for them. They have slept. Still refuse to open eyes but note to self - consider investing in a cat to scare the birds away.
6.30am - Ignore alarm.
7.00am - Ignore phone call.
7.30am - Ignore another phone call.
8.00am - Ignore texts.
9.00am - Get out of bed. Good morning. Give me coffee and nobody dies...not even the birds.

Till next time...xxx
ST

DIARY OF AN INSOMNIAC

SLEEP and I have a bad relationship, so much so that I am known to sometimes seek out pharmaceutical help, to stop insanity from lack of sleep, developing too early. With the life I lead , insanity IS going to develop, but I would like to prolong the inevitable for as long as I can.

For your enjoyment and understanding let me take you into a typical night in my life. This is last night,  a night with no pharmaceutical help. Read it and weep for me folks.

6pm - cooking dinner. Overwhelmed by wave of tiredness. Feeling quite light headed so dish out dinner and lie on couch to watch Home and Away on TV.

7.30pm - decide to head to bed as can hardly keep eyes open.

8pm - tucked into bed conversing with the world via iPad. Electric blanket is on and slowly drifting to sleep.

10 pm - husband comes to bed. Cuddled up to warm husband in warm bed and very sleepy.

10.05pm - phone text beeps x2. Ring tone belongs to daughter number 2. Instant panic that something is wrong. Text reads - " Mum, are you asleep?" I reply - " Who died? What did you kill? How much is it going to cost me? " As an afterthought I add " are you OK?". She replies " Very funny. It's OK. It can wait till morning." It obviously can't.

11pm - complete marathon texting session about study opportunities available for next year. Husband snoring. Last text is audio of Dad snoring for her enjoyment.

11.05pm - WHAT IS SHE GOING TO DO NEXT YEAR? Replay discussion in head and weigh up pros and cons as now wide awake. Elbow husband to stop snoring. Try to sleep but impossible with that racket.

12pm -  I do not need to pee. I do NOT need to pee.

12.10am - I need to pee.

12.15am - phone flashing on silent. Avoiding full glass of water, grab phone and glasses and dive under doona cover to read messages. Then check Facebook, Twitter, Google plus, emails and Instagram. May as well cos am wide awake!

2am - grab pillow and move to couch in lounge room. Get cosy as its freezing after the electric blanket.

2.05am - get up because light turns on outside. Instant fear of intruder. Rotating Hills Hoist ( washing line for all non Aussies) has triggered husband's new sensor light toy.

2.10am - start to replay every intruder story heard lately. Analyse every sound outside. Finally I  sleep.

3 am- I need to pee. Traipse back to bedroom narrowly missing vacuum cleaner I should have put away hours ago.

3.05am - wide awake. Body overcome by wind pains. Ouch, ouch and ouch. It seems my body doesn't like my home made quiche.

4am - still wide awake. Husband stirs and asks me how I slept. Resist crazy woman urge to strangle him.

4.30 am - husband gets up and heads to work for super early shift. I have the whole bed to myself and I still can't sleep.

5 am - get up to make warm drink. Come back to bed and knock over glass of water. Swear loudly.

5.30am - foul mood so start writing blog post. Neighbours go to work. Random thought - have  no idea what neighbour looks like. Should say hello in case of possible intruder.

6am - turn light off and finally go to sleep. Thank God I don't have a job to go to.

8am - WIDE AWAKE so get up and have breakfast. Totally and utterly wrecked.

8.30am - Back to bed.

12.00pm - GOOD MORNING! ....GOOD AFTERNOON?

My life is such fun.

Till next time...xxx

ST

TRAIL OF THOUGHTS

It's late and I should sleep, but there is so much to think about. Some is important, some not so. My mind darts from one thought to another. Even I'm confused.

I feel pain from the drain bottle I'm still attached to and irritation where blisters are forming next to the sticky plasters I can't tolerate. It seems major. It's not. I think about two men awaiting a cruel fate in Bali. How must they be feeling? What must they be thinking? That's major. My worry is not.

Then I think about some old friends who are experiencing a hard time but only "shared" today, days later. They didn't want to add to my load as I was having an operation. I'm upset. I love my friends and don't want to be " that" friend that no one can talk to because my situation will always be worse.

And I think about what I just wrote. It will always be worse. Yes it probably will and now there's double dose in this family. And there are conversations that start and end with " it's not fair". No, it's not fair but we work with what we've been given.  And we soldier on.

And just as quickly the next thought is for young Meghan, an 11 year old girl with CS. Ashton wrote a news piece for a journalism class on this child and her mother, who are exemplary in blazing a trail in how to manage our condition. Then I think of the photo of her hugging the boxing kangaroo I sent her last week. Apparently it's going to hospital with her next week. It's not fair. She's only 11...but she's tough

My children are equally tough. Today I took them to lunch - just me and my girls. It seems lately that we can't be in the same place at the same time long enough, so lunch was a treat for me, even when they started arguing. I miss this noise. Even with a noisy husband my home lacks heart. It lacks their noise, their smell, their chaos. I ache to turn the clock back but know it will never happen.

And just like that the tears start to flow. It happens occasionally. I have coped with lots in my life but living a long distance from both my children cuts me in half.

Today Ashton did her final interview. We've now had enough of the topic but marvel at how stupid the media is. Despite all that has happened in the last week, only one media outlet asks for proof of Ashton's medical condition. We give it willingly. We have nothing to hide. But we're smug because once again they've made the same mistake without checking.

It's late and cold. I worry about Ciara working at the cafe till all hours. It's messing with her body clock and she doesn't need this in a week of assessments. I loved listening to her warm up today. That voice!

I haven't seen my husband in almost a week. I can't go home because of this stupid drain and because in between assessments for both girls, we need to pack. Yes...we're moving...cos this is a great week...not.

Ashton chose the place. I haven't seen it except in photos. It's a big girl decision. If she can shake up the Australian media, do radio interviews and vote, then she can choose a new place to live.

I say a quick prayer. I beg God for a miracle and to spare the guys in Bali.

I pray that God blesses my family and that my mother stops asking me where my sister is taking her for Mother's Day. Honest to goodness! Patience is a virtue woman.

I pray for drains to be out, tumours to be benign, appointments to be made easily and maybe some good fortune to come my family's way. It's about bloody time don't you think?

Till next time...xxx

WIDE AWAKE

It's 4am and it's raining.
It's such an rare, unusual sound that my brain is awake enjoying every moment.
At this hour most "normal" brains are resting, but not mine.

We are back in our home town for rest and recuperation. Unfortunately the surgery was not one hundred percent successful so there will be more to come. But not for now. Now we enjoy sleeping in our own beds, we catch up with friends and we just enjoy being together. It's nice to have all four of us back under this roof.

But it's not all " nice". In six weeks I seem to have forgotten how to live. I get asked what's for dinner and I feel shocked. Here there are no cafeterias. Here I need to cook. That means I need to buy food. That means I need to push a trolley around a supermarket. It's what normal people do. I have forgotten because it's been six weeks.

Shopping takes ages. People stop and inquire about both girls. They're being nice but it's uncomfortable, especially when they insist on sharing their own health woes. Why do they do that? Why would anyone think that we really want to know about their distant cousin who suffers from a similar ailment? I've forgotten my social niceties so I move on.

It's Easter.
We attempt to go to mass but the huge crowd is too much for the FED and we last five minutes. I am quite familiar with that claustrophobic feeling post surgery so I say nothing. We leave the husband and the FYD to pray for us all, and we go in search of coffee. After a six week stint around hospitals I have to admit my caffeine addiction is out of control.

The truth is if you drink coffee you don't have to speak. Which is good really because some people have forgotten how to speak to us. It's the same as when I had breast cancer. Some people have no idea what to say to you so they either avoid you or they spend time with you and say nothing. I try to explain to the FED that not everyone handles stuff as well as we do and we need to be understanding. She gets it. I'm not actually sure I do but the words tumble out regardless.

I met one of my old colleagues. She joked that she'd forgotten what I look like. It's not a joke really. Its almost ten months since I stood in front of a classroom. Its almost ten months since the FED's saga began. It feels like yesterday.

My youngest daughter returns to the city leaving a huge gaping hole in our family. She is loud, dramatic and full of life and I miss her terribly... as do the other two. But life goes on.

Its 5am, Anzac Day and its still raining.
My brain decides it wants to sleep.
Finally.


Till next time xxx