Slapping at in my sleep. This is the thing my nightly is supposed to stop. But I guess there must have been a dud in my pill box last night.
In one of my many various and vivid dreams, I found myself amid my childhood haunts. I was trying to get home and was going to take a short cut through the playground at St. Boniface church and school. But the yard was littered with animals… many mothers and babies, trying to hide in the grass… rabbits, coyotes, various animals of loose description filled the yard. I tried to get past them as to not disturb them, when this big weasel big as a dog starts walking along side me. And the look on its face said it was NOT interested in seeing that I made it safely through the yard.
It lunged at my right leg and I slapped at it frantically to keep it away.
That’s when I woke myself up, slapping frantically at my right leg and the right side of my bed, which was far as I could tell in the dark bereft of weasels.
The weasel panic abated, I went back to sleep.
This morning I had REAL trouble getting from my back to my side, to a sitting position so I could use my cane to get to my feet. But I eventually managed to struggle myself into the proper position, used the cane and rose to a standing position. Or, what passes for standing at 6:30 am in my life these days.
Made my way into the living room past a phalanx of who were very happy to see me. I always brace myself against a wall or hold on to something solid to keep these loving beasts from knocking me over. Then I kissed my wife, took my pills, did my work e-mail thing for the morning, and made coffee.
You know those things they have on sliding windows? They’re on both sides of the bottom of the pane and you push them in to lift the window. Now, you know and I know that they do NOT move by themselves. Yet, as I was pouring clear, cold water into the carafe for our morning java, the little slidy thing on the left bottom of the window pane moved. It actually moved in the opposite direction a direction it can not physically move. But move it did, until I raised my glance to look at it directly and it promptly snapped back to its original position.
So, back to the coffee.
When I took my pills this morning, one or more of them failed to make it all the way down to my stomach, so there they sat in the lower part of my esophagus… burning. I tried washing them down with water. No good. Tried with milk. A little better. The coffee finally did the trick.
Finally. Now to finish my coffee, take a shower, and do my best to get through this day without harming myself or others.