I take for granted, night after night, that I can roll over, move around, and adjust my pillows at any time I want or need. I prefer not to wake up and feel the desire to move about, but when I do, I know that I am able to fulfill my middle of the night needs easily.
Dennis is not able to adjust himself, or his pillows, or his covers any longer. He is also not all that understandable in the middle of the night. So we have developed a code, of sorts, for what he needs. These code words, or sounds, keep both of us from wanting to kill each other in the middle of the night.
"Turn me." Or, "R E." takes me about three or four tries to comprehend. It takes more time than necessary in part because I am often pretending not to hear him, and in part because I am a sound sleeper. When I have figured out that he needs to turn, we then need to communicate which way he wants to move. Is his right or left hip bothering him? Towards the window or towards the bathroom?
Each move has it's own specific problems. There are the placement of the pads beneath him, which are an incredible help in moving him. Are they far enough to the right or left to pull or push? Will they still be underneath him after the move? And, if he wants to move towards the window, will there be enough room left over for me to lay in bed? Or towards the bathroom, is there enough bed left to keep him from falling out of bed?
Then the pillows become yet another issue. Each move requires the lifting of his head and neck and tucking of the pillows underneath him. Finally the covers. Covingtons we affectionately call the whole business. No covingtons, more covingtons, or "ah ing tn, please."
I really take for granted the ability to be completely comfortable all on my own. For Dennis, he needs help and lots of help. Sometimes I begrudgingly give him the help he needs, other times, I am more understanding. And then there are the nights that I just pretend that he has not woken me up from a deep sleep.
Until later,
Ann and Dennis
No comments:
Post a Comment