Sunday, 21 May 2017

To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

I dislike days like today, days where I feel tired, where I am tired, but I can't sleep. It started last night, after an absolutely terrific get together with friends. We visited, had great food and wine, laughed and talked. Then everybody went home. That's my worst part of every evening, when everybody leaves and I am once again home alone. Then I decided to watch a bit of Netflix. Next thing I know it's 3:00 AM and I am still wide awake.

I remember seeing the sunrise on the horizon as I finally fell into a fitful sleep. I woke up every hour, whether I wanted to or not, not having to pee or anything, just waking up so I could look at the clock and wonder if I had actually slept. I must have, at least for some of it. Then, after about six hours of nonsensical psuedo-resting, my Home Care Aide arrived to help me get up and get dressed.

She is a 30 something young Mom from Byelorus. Her English is not all that good, but we get by when she has to fill in, generally for Micheal. He likes to take the odd Sunday off, especially if he is lightly booked. Olga, yes that's her name, is chipper and hard working, wanting to do her best and do it well. There's not a lot of nonsense about her, but she can smile and appreciate the humour in some parts of my life.

When she walked into my bedroom this morning, she looked at me and grinned. She knew I hadn't slept much. She knew I was on the edge of sending her away. It wouldn't matter; the HCA's get paid for their time here whether I accept their help or not. Regardless, she looked at me and we exchanged the usual morning pleasantries, though not always pleasant from me. Then she said, "Where you want me to start?"

I must have looked confused, because she repeated herself with some clarification. "Where you want me to start? Here or kitchen?" I realized she was offering me an extra hour of rest, which I gladly took. Off she went to the kitchen, tidying and, at the end of her efforts, cooking an omelette for me. When she returned to me, slumped as I was on the bed, she helped me into my sling. While I went to the washroom, she did more tidying. After I was done, she helped me onto the bed and began to help me dress.

Then her time ran out. I am certain she expected me to stay in bed. The omelette would have gone in the fridge. She would have gone on her way. I would have gone back to sleep. I kind of did that. I was partly dressed when I sent her on her way. As she closed the door, I lay down once again, for yet another couple of hours faking sleep, dozing lightly, feeling the sun heating my room, feeling sleepy but not sleeping.

I am up now, still feeling sleepy. I ate my omelette, my eyes still demanding closure while my brain demands that I be alert. I didn't bother with the rest of dressing; no pants, no compression socks. I'm just going to sit around today and do as little as possible. Then, in about six hours, I will go to bed again, this time with a double dose of Zopiclone. I will sleep tonight.

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