Saturday, November 2, 2013. It’s 2:30 am, and I have been up for two days and two nights, working on my blog, reading my blog to any unsuspecting friends and family members who happen to venture too closely, and compulsively checking for badge notifications on my Words with Friends app. It’s been exhilarating, but this insomnia thing is no joking matter. (Well, it is, but it also has a serious side.)
I seem to be dropping out of circulation. What I mean is, I missed recognizing a friend’s birthday today. I haven’t left the house in days, to go to the store or to visit friends. I answer the phone if it rings, but I have avoided making outgoing calls. I am also well aware that chronic lack of sleep can have serious health consequences (increased risk of stroke, for example). Yet, here I sit, tapping away on the keyboard, in my house full of sleeping people and animals. (Well, technically, two cats).
It’s just that I get so wound up with excitement. I’ve just come up with another idea for a blog topic: personal miracles. I really want to stay up to get one of these experiences out, but I have to make myself lie down and wrestle with my bed, until I spend an appropriate number of hours there. (Uh-oh, it’s now 3:15, and my husband (an early riser) just woke up. So, there goes that idea for at least an hour!)
Starry Night Date: November Five, Twenty-Thirteen. 0900 hours. Captain Insomnia’s Log Book entry:
Uh-oh! Too late for that now! (Or is it early? I dunno anymore!) I didn’t catch ANY of those elusive “winks” last night either!
Thursday, November 7, 2013. It’s 4 am, and I’ve pulled another all-nighter, after sleeping like a baby last night, on a trip to San Antonio, to see Nine Inch Nails in concert with my daughter. So, that must be the secret to a good night’s sleep: stay on vacation!
Sunday, November 10, 2013. I slept 2 hours in 2 days! Then, I slept 11am-7:30pm yesterday. It’s 5 am & I’ve been up all night again!. Even my cat looks tired!
It seemed a source of great amusement, but this insomnia bit is very inconvenient! I have needed to take my car in for a factory recall for the past month, but I can’t seem to pull it together enough to make the call, and set up the time to bring my car in, never mind make it to the appointment.
I wish they had night-owl dealer service departments—and appointment secretaries while we’re at it! I’ll bet there’s a whole segment of society that could support an entirely new business model of graveyard-shift businesses, like car dealers, doctors, dentists, and even chiropractor’s offices. (Earaches and toothaches always happen at night, don’t they? And who wouldn’t want to be able to get an infrared back treatment at 3am?)
Many people, I’m sure, would love it if there were 24-hour insurance and real estate offices. (Lots of people need proof of insurance in the middle of the night, or want to know how well their potentially new home will be illuminated after dark—you know, for security reasons!)
Even 24-hour colleges & government offices would serve a useful purpose. College students stay up all night anyway. And I, for one, would love to be able to run out and mail a package when I can’t sleep, or vote in the middle of the night when I’m most alert! (Some people must already be doing this, from the looks of Washington!)
Tuesday, November 19, 2013. It’s a bright sunny Tuesday morning, but I’ve been up since 8 am yesterday morning. (Yawn!) I was a really good girl Sunday night. (I use the term “girl” loosely; I’m 62!) I slept all the way through the night—after being up for the previous two days!
Right now, I am recovering from a dental surgery that I underwent yesterday. After tearing my lower gum eating almonds one day, I had to have a skin graft. I got to watch some of the work being done. (I find that medical procedures are quite interesting. I’ve had my share of them!) I think it made the periodontist nervous that I asked to see it, though. He is apparently used to his patients being nervous, not interested!
Saturday, November 23, 2013.. Well, after 3 days, my dental skin graft fell completely out. I called the office and said, “My skin graft fell out.” The receptionist replied, “No, it didn’t.” I repeated, “Yes, it did.”. Again, she said dryly, “No, it didn’t.”. I repeated myself a third time, “My skin graft fell completely out! It’s gone!. There’s nothing there!”
Apparently, she was bound and determined she was not going to acknowledge defeat, because this time, she said, “You’ll have to talk to the doctor, but he’s in surgery. So, I’ll have him call you back.” (“So there!” I could almost hear her saying, sarcastically, in my head.)
Sure enough, half an hour later, my phone rang. Only it wasn’t the doctor; it was the receptionist. “He said it didn’t fall out, and to just keep following the post-surgical instructions we gave you.” (I swear, I could almost hear that “So there!” again, plain as day, but with an extra “I told you so!” added on.)
“He stitched it down really well; there’s no way it could go anywhere,” she added. (True, there were quite a few stitches crisscrossing the area, all around,—but, not across the area of the little skin flap!)
I tried insisting again, but I knew she had won, when she said, “Even if it was gone (which it isn’t, she implied), there would be nothing he could do about it until it heals.” (Until what heals: the big hole where the poor naked root of my tooth stands, exposed!)
“You mean . . . he wouldn’t . . . you know . . . want to put a new piece of skin in there . . . in that . . . open, empty place while it’s still raw?!” It would still have to heal, before he could do that? I pleaded. “Yes. No matter what, you still have to wait the two weeks, until your follow-up.” (“Ha! Ha! Ha-hah! Ha! Na! Na! Na-nah! Na!” I could hear her imagined scorn.) She had won.
She had told me it was still in my mouth. The doctor had told me (or so she had said) that it was still in my mouth. So, who was I to protest? They had decided that that little flap of skin, from the roof of my mouth (that had rotted and fallen away), was still in my mouth.