Sleep

I never pay attention to the quality of my sleep until there is a problem.  How much, how long, how disturbing or delicious the dreams.  All of it.

So, anyway, since I have been ill, and, frankly, at this point it is a stretch (ha! sleep pun) to remember when I was not feeling like crap in a casserole, sleep has not been my friend.

I can, customarily, sleep without a thought, not a care in the world.  Even in my sometimes weird and inappropriate world, sleep comes easily.  I have supportive pre-bed routines and my mind is peaceful.  I fall asleep, I stay asleep and I rarely need an alarm to wake me.  I wake refreshed and bright as a penny.  I will probably forget and then repeat all of this later, but that is only because it is true. :)  

I dream a lot, well, we all do, but most people do not remember all or even some of the dreams that they have each night.  I remember a lot of them, as in up to ten or more.  They often dematerialize shortly after I awake, drifting away in gossamer strands and shreds and wisp's, whispers, until they are invisible to my mind's eye.  Some of the stories stay with me for a while, an hour, a day, forever.  The unpleasant ones stick around the longest, probably because they have the most relevant messages to share with me.  Fine, I do not mind so much.  Well, except for the one where I was the engineer on a train and it was early in the morning, deep dark, silent except for the sound of my wheels on the tracks and the hum of my engine.  That part was quite lovely, but the ending part where the homeless man stepped out of the deep dark and onto the tracks and I hit him, well, that part was horrible.  

I awoke, certain that it was real and that somehow, overnight, I had become a train engineer, came into possession of a train, and had killed a man with it.  I never thought much about where I actually got the train, but in the dream it did belong to me.  Anyway, I woke knowing that I had done this terrible thing and for long minutes I struggled with calling the police to turn myself in and not calling the police to turn myself in until I had talked to someone about it.

Even once I finally realized and admitted that it had been a truly sucky dream, the day was kind of ruined.  Worse is that I can still remember every detail, every sound, every smell and scent and physical sensation of that dream, and I do not have to try very hard to bring it back in screech-ing-ly lurid and in-the-moment, heart-pounding consciousness.  I have a few dreams like that, but the murdering train one is the worst.

Where was I?  Oh, yeah, I am having trouble sleeping.  I cannot fall asleep or sleep for very long or wake with any vigor.  I need a nap nearly every, single damn day.  I do not always take one, but they always want to be taken.

It is the cough.  Well, it is the pain, too, but that is another whine.

I take prescription cough medicine, or I take OTC stuff.  I suck on drops, sip tea with honey and lemon, or warm water with lemon and chamomile or whatever herb I am desperate enough to try mixing with the damn honey and lemon.  Valerian, catmint (both of which delight the cats), more herbs, melatonin, my own sleep pillows, meditation, reading, breathing exercises, muscle exercises, stop-the-brain exercises, actual exercise earlier in the day, more reading, snuggling with the cats, cats out of the room, socks on/socks off, fan blowing, white noise, open windows, closed windows (totally sucked), staying up a bit later, even a subliminal, sleep-supportive tape, boring books.  I keep regular hours for settling in and do not have a television to seduce and corrupt my late night rituals.  A nice, bubbly, warm bath would be nice,, however, whilst the old knees will allow me to settle into the tub, they will not permit me to get out again, which reminds me that I once had to sleep in a tub during an ill-fated trip with someone who is not me and there are no circumstances under which I would recommend that to anyone...it was horrible, even though it was lined with lovely and cushy comforters and was huge enough to hold two sleepers.  Now, that particular trip would give ya nightmares.  Lordy.

I have a great mattress and pillows and lovely bedclothes and sleepwear.  All very comfortable.  No noisy outdoors stuff, quiet neighbors, quiet neighborhood.  My mind is calm and I feel relaxed, and I make sure that I am all peed out before I go to bed, so no nocturnal trips to the loo.  I like that word, loo, so much nicer than toilet for some reason.  I do not eat anywhere close to bedtime, nor do I drink alcohol or caffeine.

None of it works, although the lay/stay in bed and exercise exercises are nice and relaxing and if you have to do something in bed besides sleep, they are lovely.

It is the cough and the pain, neither of which I can eliminate.

I cough until the other residents of this place want to toss me out and then string me up as a caution to others in the area who might be thinking about taking up coughing as an avocation.  You know, like me.  I am spending more time trying to clear my lungs or just cough for absolutely no reason, or maybe pop a blood vessel or have a stroke than I am on doing anything else, even if you add all of the everything elses together.

My solution, of the past week and a half, has been to take a night-time cold medicine.  I started with the recommended dose of two tablets, but after the first night and feeling disconnected for too long the following morning, have reduced the dose to one tablet, even though I have to struggle to be alert in the mornings.  I hate it, but I need the sleep, for crying out loud.  I do not want it to be a crutch, so I only take it when I absolutely have to be someplace early in the mornings, which is only a few days each week.  The rest of the time I do not mind not sleeping a bit later and can always take one of those naps later in the day, which I really want whether or not I take the sleeping stuff.

I am normally a patient person, but the novelty of this feeling ill is totally worn off.  Not to mention that taking this OTC cold med is not making me happy in the teeniest bit. Stunningly bad habit.

Anyway, I do not have to be anyplace tomorrow and it makes no difference to anyone, save me, when I get up.  So, I am off to bed and will read a bit if I cannot drift off within reason.  I am tired, despite this afternoon's nap, but that means nothing in the big sleep picture (yeah, another pun, I gotta million of 'em).

Sweet dreams to me, sleep tight and dunt let the bedbugs bite.  To sleep, perchance to dream, but mostly to cauliflowering sleep.