Not really asleep...

Since I was young I have talked and walked in my sleep. My earliest memories were of waking up in the living room and being talked to by my family, but not knowing why I was there. I don't remember any episodes while I was a teenager, but when I got married my (ex)husband told me that I mumbled a lot in my sleep. He said he never could understand what I was saying, though. And my son has told me numerous times that I talk so loudly in my sleep that he can hear me in his bedroom. I know it's true because I wake myself up several times a night and I am right in the middle of a sentence. Trey's girlfriend told me that one time when I was sleeping on the sofa and they were watching a movie I started talking about Christmas, and when Teri and I went to Nebraska she said that I talked all through the night. She couldn't remember what I was saying but she said I talked in a calm voice just like I was carrying on a conversation with someone. Ha ha. Very funny.

Yes I know I have sleep apnea and restless leg syndrome AND I snore rather loudly I've been told. In fact, when my dear friend, Martha was in the hospital I volunteered to sit with her one night. Evidently I kept her awake all night with my snoring. I was MORTIFIED! She thought it was very funny and she told everyone about it.

I had two sleep studies done several years ago and I have a CPAP machine (I think that's such a sexy look on me, don't you agree?) that I'm supposed to be using every night. I don't, though, because every time I put it on I wake up and it's off. I don't have any memories of what may have happened but I'm guessing I just sat up and took the thing off and turned off the machine. It had to be that because if it comes off of my face an alarm sounds on the machine. The alarm has never sounded and awakened me. I guess I'm due for another sleep study.

The sleepwalking scares me sometimes, because it appears that the only thing I haven't done while asleep is DRIVE, but I can't even say that because I have narcolepsy and fall asleep at strange times, even while driving a few times. Yes, it scared me silly so if I am starting to get that feeling, I stop the car and make someone else in the car drive.

I have gotten up at night and cooked food, brought juice to my bedroom, only to spill it all over the wall, my quilt, and my carpet, eaten whole packs of crackers or an entire bag of cheez-its. I have no memory of any of it, but the evidence is there for me in the morning. It's quite puzzling.

The guy that I am dating has called me many times and I've answered the phone and talked to him, but been totally asleep. One of my doctors called me one day and we had a whole conversation while I was asleep. The only way I knew he called was that he told me, and when I got home I checked the caller ID and his number was on there.

But some of the sleep talking episodes are sort of funny, like the other night, when Eddie was here we were watching The Biggest Loser on tv. Evidently I fell asleep because I woke up saying, "You just picked your nose! I SAW YOU!" He turned to me and said, "What in the hell are you talking about?" I realized what I had done so I just said, "Never mind." It seems that I have to say that a lot lately because some of what comes out of my mouth just when I am waking up is so stupid and I have no idea what makes me do it!

I guess it's good that I'm still single. I'd probably drive anyone nuts if they had to sleep with me every night!

What to write...

Since both sisters are going to be writing more I feel the need to join them, but where to begin? I have not been to the pool since I last wrote. It was just too traumatic, both for me AND for the ones who had to watch! I still have 5 visits left on my card, though, so I have to use them. Maybe in February.

For some reason I just thought of my last visit with the pain doctor. He actually made me take a drug test! I've been taking the same medication for about 4 years and have never asked for more, or for something different except for when the migraines began. That time I had to call him and beg for something because I was on day 2 of a miserable pain I could not get rid of. He called in Imitrex and referred me back to the neurologist I saw a few years ago, who diagnosed me with migraines.

Anyway, I guess because I have joked about 'medicinal marijuana' for so long, I sort of panicked when I heard I had to do a drug test. My first thought was 'WOW, I'm SO GLAD I haven't smoked pot lately!' For those of you who know me now I must confess that I smoked a big fat one a time or two in my youth. Not often, but yes I did burn one every how and then. But I have not touched the stuff in 23 (?) years, which made my thoughts at the pain doctor's office odd. I suppose I've joked about pot for pain so much I almost was worried that I might not pass the drug test. Now how silly is that? Even if it was legalized in the state of Georgia I don't think I would do it, simply because I think the action of smoking it would make me want to smoke cigarettes again. That is something I NEVER want to do again.

I quit smoking on October 11, 2001. Yes, this was one month after the terrorist attacks on 9/11. I, like most of the world, was so stunned by everything that was happening and my lack of ability to control it that I actually thought I was going to have a heart attack. I was glued to the tv for days, watching the planes crash into the World Trade Center buildings over and over and I began having panic attacks. So I decided to quit smoking. I'd been smoking since high school (you do the math) and it was very hard to quit, but I had my last smoke at 10:30pm on that night in October. I have not touched another one since. Not a single time, which is probably good for my pocket since cigarettes cost nearly $5 a pack now (they cost almost $2 a pack when I quit). I smoke LOTS in my dreams. Not sure why. I'm just glad I quit in real life. When my pain is really bad, though, I do sometimes wonder if smoking marijuana might just do the trick. Shocking, huh?

NOT RELATED

Today I received a call from CeCe, giving me some 'are you sitting down' news.

My dog, Lenny

Moving right along

I woke up this morning knowing that today was the right day to move on with my life, minus Eddie. Things have been getting more and more just like they were when we 'went out' last year. I use the quotation marks because we've never actually gone on a date. Our whole relationship has been about him coming over to my house, me entertaining him and cooking for him, and then him leaving. We don't even talk on the phone much anymore because he watches tv and doesn't listen to me so I've stopped saying anything. And he was not being at all understanding about my limitations and pain. I printed a summary of what I go through about a month ago. Although I've asked him at least 10 times about it, he has never even bothered to read the pages. Oh, and I just found out that, exactly like last year, nobody knows about me...none of his friends even know he's been seeing anyone for the last 5 (?) months

GETTING OLD

Today I am taking a break from the 'Giant Bathing Suit' diaries to share my thoughts on one of the many unpleasant ass-pects of getting old. Will return to the previous topic in a few days.

Due to both family history and personal issues, I had my 4th colonoscopy today. While the actual test brings with it many opportunities to laugh (if it's someone else's test), the preparation for the test is so awful I can't believe a MAN hasn't invented a less miserable way to get ready, given that the test is one the male gender also must have, beginning around age 55. I told my doctor today that he would be rich if only he would invent a pleasant-tasting 'beverage' that one could drink about 2 ounces of, as opposed to the 4 liters of oh-my-God-I-want-to-die liquid also known as Trilyte (or Golytely, Colyte or Nulytely). That is some nasty stuff.

I've been dreading the prep for the test so much, I've rescheduled twice, meaning I've not been able to take my baby aspirin OR my anti-inflammatory meds in 3 weeks. These 3 weeks have been pure hell, but I just did not want to spend a day drinking something that made me want to vomit, but would actually make me do something else. Drink crap. Expel crap. Times about 75.
Since I could not put the test off any longer (and, yes, I did consider cancelling even though it would have cost me $75...I REALLY did not want to do this prep), yesterday I mixed up the '$hit potion' and added the flavor packet of my choice (orange). By the way, the flavor packet's only function is to make the concoction SMELL like orange, pineapple, mixed berry, or lemon. There is no change to the taste of the product. I'm gagging, just writing about it. I guess it's still too fresh in my mind.

So yesterday was awful, and the horror lasted until late at night. Finally I slept. I woke up this morning hoping that I drank enough of the nastiness to not be sent home, test not given and me $75 lighter because I didn't do it right. Actually, I only drank less than half of it. I just could not drink any more. So I was hoping.

My friend, Eddie, got here around 8:00 to drive me to the place. I figured today's part would be a walk in the park after yesterday. Although my test was scheduled for 10:30, I was told many times that I had to be there at 9:30. For some reason, though, I was not taken back until 10:40. I'm going to send them a bill for $75 and see what happens. I'll keep you posted.

Once I was called back, I was told to get naked and in a gown and then get on the bed and cover up with the sheet. Then the nurse came in with the anesthesiologist to give me my IV and go over a whole bunch of boring questions. By the time they wheeled me into the procedure room, I had cried 4 times and was talking non-stop. Then nothing. The next thing I knew Eddie was standing at the foot of the bed, with the nurse telling me that I could leave just as soon as I farted a bunch, in order to get out all of the air they blew me up with. Oh how nice. She asked me if I could cut the cheese easier if Eddie wasn't there. I nodded, and he literally RAN out of the room, which is sort of funny, given that farting is almost an Olympic event to just about every man alive, Eddie included.

I don't remember anything else until I was being wheeled to the car. I guess I must have farted sufficiently to be released. I do remember the guy in the next curtained area letting them go so loudly it sounded like he was sitting on an aluminum bleacher. He laughed every time, too. Men have no shame.

Eddie and I stopped off at a drive-thru for a bite to eat, and then he drove me home. Oh, and he casually tossed me a paper, telling me, "By the way, the doctor gave me these pictures of the inside of your butthole. I thought you'd want them."

I'm so proud.

THE GIANT BATHING SUIT Part 3

Today the giant bathing suit made it's third appearance. At first I didn't want to go, but decided that the third time would just HAVE to be a charm. So I suited up and drove to the pool.

After very carefully backing in to the handicapped parking space (and making damn sure I wasn't over the line this time) I got my stuff together and went inside. I checked in and walked to the pool, where I found an empty bench to put my stuff on. I took my shirt off, exposing the GIANT BATHING SUIT. I was very prepared to ignore everyone and just get in and do my thing. There was lots of noise, and much activity on the sides of the pool. I went in toward the middle and started doing my exercises. After about 10 minutes I realized that although there were many people in the area, I was the only one in the pool. I started looking around, and saw that everyone else was sitting on the sides of the pool. I went to a lady who was sitting closest to me and asked what was going on. She told me that the park people were testing the pool water and doing some cleaning, and everyone had been asked to leave the pool for 15 minutes. Oh how nice. No wonder everyone was looking at me. Again.

I got out and sat down on the side with everyone else, and just as my butt hit the concrete the lifeguard blew the whistle and said that everyone could go back in. Of course.

I spent the next 30 minutes burning off thousands of calories, I'm sure. Okay, maybe hundreds. But at least I did it. In the GIANT BATHING SUIT.

Later on I went to Kroger to get some Bing cherries. They are on sale this week and I bought 1 pound the other day but didn't taste one until last night. That's when I found out how yummy they are. So I decided to go back and get two more pounds. When I got home I started eating the pound I bought the other day. Somehow I ate the whole pound. Then I wrote something on FaceBook about having a bunch of Bing cherries, and someone kindly informed me that these cherries cause what Martha used to call 'the screaming meanies'.

Will this explosion hit me during the night, at the pool tomorrow (where it would be impossible to pull that 'girdle dress' of a bathing suit off in time), or at Archiver's tomorrow night. Great. Can't wait. I haven't shit myself in many years. Please, God, let this happen when I am at home, with no visitors, and have the luxury of my own bathroom. Please don't let me have a blowout in public!

HEY...maybe I can just eat some Bing cherries before my colonoscopy next week and that way I won't have to drink that awful stuff they make you drink to 'clean out your system'. Wonder if that would work? I guess I'll know by tomorrow.

Until then...