January 5, 2023

 Well, here I go again, unable to sleep.  I read some article a long time ago which stated lying in bed wide awake trying to force slumber is fruitless and raises anxiety levels. The article was right.   My mind goes just about everywhere as I stare at the ceiling.  Since the mastectomies, I have four pillows carefully arranged to attempt comfort, but by the time I get them just right, I'm wide awake.   My back is cantankerous, too.  The new adjustable bed helps a bit, but there's no setting for instant sleep.   Too bad, for what the dumb bed cost, that feature should have been standard. 

 Listening to Carl snoring slightly, I alternately envy him and try to match my breathing to his, but it doesn't lull me into dozing off.  May as well get up. 

I wandered into the dark living room at 2:30 am, remembering to sidestep the fake garland I took off the railings on Tuesday.  I left my glasses in the bedroom, but not wanting to wake Carl, I'll leave them where they are.  From what I can tell, it snowed since 11:30pm when I first went to bed.   However, I'm very myopic, so I have no idea if the snow continues.

The weather had been wet and windy, sometimes sleet, sometimes pouring rain, but no snow until now. Good intentions were to take the outdoor decorations down on Monday, but well, we all know how good intentions go.  I did take what lights I could wrestle out from the snowbanks down last night (Wednesday) but they are all lying in piles on the front porch because I forgot the big trash can I use to store everything in which resides in the garage. 

Ugh, the garage.  To get there, I have to cross the driveway, which is an ice skating rink, albeit a bumpy one, and treacherous.  There is nothing graceful about me on ice, weird how that tendency changed over the years.  I decided to wait until Thursday, I'm nothing if not a great procrastinator. 

When I was young, there was nothing more fun than sliding around on ice.  Now I'm 64 and my pace and lack of gracefulness is showing.  When did I become so slow and stiff, terrified of falling?  Audrey and Joel caper across ice as if walking on dry ground, thinking nothing of it.  I mince along, holding my breath as if each step might trigger a trapdoor.

I wonder why I can't sleep, these are all things that go through my head.  Of course, I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop healthwise, I doubt I'll ever feel confident in that regard again, but no one ever knows what will eventually happen anyway, so my thoughts go from the what ifs to praying for those I know and back again. Weird how every ache and pain, heart racing or slowing can be unnerving. Things always do look darkest before the dawn.

There are also rules about not looking at screens before bedtime.  I agree,  reading a book or journaling would be preferable to writing a blog post on a cellphone because I'm too lazy to climb upstairs to my laptop.  But as I grow older, rules don't interest me as much. 

I have a young friend who is in her early 20's and it is always a delight to talk with her.   She has just delivered a baby boy two weeks before Christmas.  I know she's having some sleepless nights right about now, too.   How I remember those nights, pure torture at times.  Of course you love your baby, but never getting more than an hour or so of uninterrupted sleep is like walking in deep mud with snowshoes on.  Absolutely exhausting.  I never understood new motherhood, why when a woman needs rest from giving birth, does she have to be sleep deprived for months?  I should volunteer to take her night shift if she didn't live so far away.

I follow some forums on breast cancer, and I know I'm not alone with the persistent thoughts of gloom.  

However, I've led a quirky life, so it stands to reason my demise may be unexpected as well.  Icy driveways, sneaky staircase missed steps, rogue tree branches, jaywalking, heck, driving is terrifying.  Yes, I'm officially a senior citizen.  I have a Medicare card. 

But now that I've got all of this silliness off my chest, it's time to get those pillows arranged again. 

 Thanks for listening.