Sunday, 28 June 2015

Arm Flopping

I seem to have developed a rather difficult new behaviour with my arms. It seems they are developing a mind of their own, particularly when I sleep. I know that a great many people flail their arms about in their sleep, some so bad that they cannot sleep with a partner. I know that all of this at some point flail in our sleep. What's happening to me these days is a modest extension of both.

There are actually two things that happen. First of all, I find that my fingers will often engage in some sort of "counting" or "scratching" activity. I find that if I am dreaming, my fingers will replicate an action in the dream. If I am not aware of dreaming, just on the edge of wakefulness, they get into some sort of scratching motion, especially if they are touching something, or someone. It's not that this is all that weird. I am dreaming and replicating the dream. Or something like that. It's just that I cannot ever recall this kind of activity in my hands or fingers.

The other new thing is the tendency for my arms to flop when I move them, and sometimes when I don't intend to move them. As said, we all move our arms in our sleep. I do, you do. What's different here is the loss of control in the latter part of a movement. I simply don't know where they are going to end up! The other night, for example, my arm near the edge of the bed flopped out and knocked over the water glass on my night table. That kind of uncontrolled motion in my arms will happen two or three times a night these days, a completely new situation for me.

Where it really gets exciting is when the two things combine to produce unexpected results. The other day my arm flopped with perfect aim to hit Katherine in the face, my fingers nearly scratching her in the eye. Last night my arm flopped over to just barely touch Katherine in the back, whereupon my fingers started scratching her between the shoulders! Not all the stories are this interesting; sometimes my arm just flops over, the slap of it hitting my body enough to awaken me. I wonder how my arm got there, put it back where it belongs, and try to get back to sleep.

It's a strange new world, another thing to get used to. I suspect it will go away as my arms weaken further. I don't know; I haven't been here before.

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