SLEEPING ON A RAILING

I have used sleeping medications ever since a hysterectomy  removed my ability to sleep longer than 2-3 hours at a time as well as my uterus.

But recently I went cold turkey to see if I could find rest on my own.

I am currently in the ideal situation for this - I live alone, with two dogs who are house-broken enough to make it through the night (with Cissy only leaving occasional offerings in the living room) - I do not have scheduled work hours - and the Internet is always working at 3 a.m.

I live in a rural area, with my nearest neighbor several acres away - and I have black-out curtains in my bedroom.

Surprisingly, it only took a few nights to settle into a routine.

I do need to go to bed right when I feel sleepy, even if it is unfashionably early, such as 8 p.m. (thank goodness for the DVR that can still record The Walking Dead, Castle, and Jon Stewart).

When I get up to pee around 2 a.m., I must go right back to bed.

And I must get right up when the dogs begin nosing around right before daybreak and take them on a longer-than-usual walk.

With my two daytime naps, I am getting MORE sleep than I was on the medication.

Pretty nifty, eh?







And the nicest thing about all of this - waking up alert and fairly cheerful.

But still - let's go take a nap right now, okay?

MOM TO THE RESCUE

With my first baby, I was frantic that with my hearing loss, I would not hear her if she cried out in the night.

But, of course, mother instinct is louder (and much more persistent) than any auditory receptor.

It still works, even when across oceans and lands and seas (with the image of the American flag being raised, dramatic music for the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Boston Pops Symphony in the background, as the camera slowly pans over to... wait, that image is just in my head... right?).

Okay, back to the subject.

As my kids have flown the coop, left the nest, grown up and scattered, etc. etc. etc., my husband claims that I completely avoided any sense of loss by simply getting more animals to take their place.

And my ultimate child-substitute is Murray (he's the slightly larger one on the couch to the left).

Murray sleeps on a bed next to mine (and a real bed, not a dog-bed), and waits patiently every night for me to go to sleep before he goes to sleep.

And I have a serious time-line I must follow each and every night before I get to sleep...

Unfortunately, the last one is the most important if I am actually going to go to sleep - by the end of 15 minutes after taking my nightly Ambien CR, I must be relaxed, under the covers, and mentally going through the plot and script lines from a favorite movie of mine (Jane Eyre, Princess Bride, Dave, or Serenity)... which almost always allows me to sleep into sleep.

But last night... well, my child was in need.

Murray, right at the 15 minute mark, suddenly began a coughing, sneezing almost seizure fit. Immediately my brain began churning out how to possibly do CPR on a dog - what emergency treatment would be open at 12:32 a.m. - and would there be any possible ill-effect from doing mouth-to-mouth with a canine?

He got over it fine on his own, but not before all my mom-instincts had gone on red-alert.

And my carefully balanced bedtime routine was totally and completely screwed.

It is amazing the things that can be accomplished at 4:26 a.m. - my closet got cleaned, all sorts of loose papers got filed, and my on-again, off-again internet connection was uninstalled, reinstalled, uninstalled again and finally each and every plug and connector to my CPU were un-and-re-plugged.

I sure hope I sleep tonight - and if not, I am fully prepared to administer any or all resuscitation methods necessary.

Just with a bottle of Listerine right by my bedside.