the princess and the pee?

I’ve never been a good sleeper.

As a sixteen-year-old, I was prescribed diazapam (aka valium) to help with my insomnia. It didn’t. My sleep issues persist to this day and I require a specific set of conditions to help me get a few hours a night:

1. King-sized bed with a firm mattress.
2. Six feather pillows of various sizes and functions (two long ones for front and back and snuggling, two small ones for between my knees when I lie on either side, one medium-sized one for my head, and another medium-sized one to rest my hand on when I stretch out). Did I mention they should all be feather?
3. No top sheet.
4. Room temperature: 16C
5. One twin-bed-sized goose-down comforter (queens and kings are too heavy and bulky)
6. No pyjamas, no nightgown, not even t-shirt (and especially not a hospital gown!) in which to become entangled. I’ve slept naked since I was twelve and cannot abide being clothed in anything while under the covers.

Needless to say, none of these requirements were standard at the Almonte General or the Perth hospitals. Friends were enlisted to smuggle in some of my pillows and one of my duvets. Both places allowed me to sleep naked (at least from the waist up), although some of the nurses clearly did not approve lol.

Sadly, the feathers and the nudity didn’t help much because, in short, hospital beds suck. The memory foam mattresses are shaped like canoes – purposely designed that way (I learned from a helpful occupational therapist during the last week of my confinement) – to keep folks from falling out (or constrained, depending on which side of the care coin you sleep on). In any case, the beds didn’t suit me. When my friend Naisi jokingly likened my experience to the Princess and the Pea, I was not amused.

Adding to my discomfort were a Holter monitor (that I had to wear for two weeks) and my CPAP machine, which is normally helpful but seemed to get in the way while in the canoes. The fact that I couldn’t wear the CPAP meant I got even less sleep than I otherwise might have

A sleep study I endured last October indicated that I have moderate to severe sleep apnea. Moderate when I’m lying on my side (17 – 20 sleep interruptions per hour) and severe (70+ interruptions per hour) when lying on my back.  I have since learned that sleep apnea is a risk factor for stroke.

The goal when using the CPAP machine is 5 interruptions per hour. A display on the top of the machine shows the previous night’s sleep stats, which are also transmitted somehow to the sleep centre in Renfrew where the techs can access them and provide advice if required. Big Brother or in the case of the sleep centre, Big Sister, is everywhere.

The machine itself is pretty nifty. It’s close to silent and fits fairly comfortably over my nose. Most important, it really does help me sleep better (except in the aforementioned canoe-shaped hospital beds it would seem).

All of this came to mind today after having slept a whopping NINE HOURS last night, an unheard-of stretch of shuteye in this household, save  Kitty Cat who has been known to sleep for twelve, though never at night when he is in full predator mode and contributing to my inability to doze off.

Last night’s exceptional sleep followed a shitty day during which everything seemed to go wrong – it felt more like three steps back. I was so exhausted by the end of it that I went to bed an hour later than normal and slept two hours longer. Plus, I only got up to pee ONCE!

Besides being too tired to waken, I think I must have been dreaming of the day Blue and I will ride The Highlands together again. I continue to work hard at making that dream a reality.