Sleep, Interrupted

It was a long day, today. Dennis wanted to get out of bed at 6 am and no matter how much I begged, there was not going to be any relenting. He had been in bed for 12 hours and he had a sore back. By the time I had gotten him up, dressed, changed and fed, I was wide awake, too. So I picked up the house and shot off a few emails regarding the sale of Mother's house.Then it was off for a hair cut for me, stitches replaced for Dennis, a stop at BlockBusters for a few Blueray disks (fancy ass DVDs) and a unplanned pizza pickup at the best pizza shop in Minneapolis.

By the time we returned home, 4 pm, Dennis was exhausted again. We managed to get in one tube feeding, one slice of pizza each and one movie, before Dennis went back to bed. Well, he had been up for 14 hours, and that is a long day for him.

I gave him two sleeping pills (it's within the prescribed amount) hoping he would sleep a little later for a Saturday morning sleep in late. These pills not only help him sleep longer, but also quieter. The muscle relaxers in the pills also keep him from slugging me in the middle of the night. They often help with his vivid dreams and wild screams. Not always, but most of the time.

All was well when I went to bed a few hours later. He was sound asleep and quiet. I drifted off into my own dream land and hoped for the best.

3 am. The usual time for sleep, interrupted, but not the usual suspect. One of those damn smoke detectors was beeping. I rolled over, trying to ignore it. Nope, that wasn't going to work. I finally got up, pulled a chair under the contraption right outside our bedroom door, and reached. Damn high ceilings, I couldn't reach. I went to the pantry, where Dennis had put a pole that I cursed every time I opened the pantry, and tried to reach it once again. Success! I had disarmed the detector!

By this time, Stinker, (Shiva, the kitty) was following me around and wanted up, on the bed. Actually, she wanted to lay on my belly and allow me to rub her face for a while. This was cool with me. I needed to unwind after my trials with the alarm. And just as I had started to forget reality, the beeping started again.

Who in the world, invented such a contraption? An alarm is suppose to give warning when it is necessary. Crying wolf is contradictory to what an alarm is meant to do.

I tried, once again to ignore it. I counted the seconds between the beeps. Knowing when the next beep is coming is easier for me than waiting for the next beep. Exactly 15 seconds between beeps. 4 beeps a minute. 240 beeps an hour. I wanted to sleep for at least 3 more hours, which meant I needed to tolerate over 700 more beeps. Shit. I couldn't do it.

I got up, again. I pulled out the fold up stool. Wisely, I put on a robe. Not only do we have high ceilings, but also too many windows for a late night naked scenario on a stool. I found the battery cover and opened it up. Damn. A 9 volt battery.

Who, in this world, keeps a stock of 9 volt batteries around? Not us, it appears.

It's times like these that I miss my old Dennis the most. Oh, I have lived alone as many years as I have lived with someone else. I know how to take care of myself. But, when you live with someone, you don't always want to take care of everything. Okay, let the self-pity go.

The upshot is, by now it is after 4 am, and here I sit. Counting the damn seconds between beeps. And, as it should be, Dennis has started making noises and talking in his sleep. The pills have worn off and my REM sleep is gone until at least tomorrow night. At least I got an entry written for today.

Until later,
Ann and Dennis