I remember when sleeping late on a Saturday was a treat, so wonderful it almost felt sinful. I would listen to Joe and the boys watching cartoons and eating something awful for breakfast. Probably Pop-Tarts and juice boxes. I savored that extra hour or two that my Hubby gave me on the weekend. It was delicious.
I remember squeezing in a 20 minute nap when Joe was at baseball practice with the boys. Curled up on the couch with the cat while something was in the oven for dinner, then waking up refreshed and ready for the evening
I remember going to bed after the news and falling asleep easily and waking in the morning before everyone and getting the morning started.
Those days feel like a dream now. Sleep is not enjoyable. I am never rested. I never wake up energized. Sleep now is a necessity that follows me from room to room taunting me. I cannot escape it. It brings me to my knees. Sleep is an evil monster. I hate him.
As with most chronically ill people sleeping at night is a problem. This can be an impossible mission thwarted by the Evil Sleep Master. Medications that should calm you down so you can sleep, instead can make you jittery and unable to close your eyes.
Sleep is a luxury I will never enjoy again. There are days that I cannot get up. The exhaustion is profound. The weakness is debilitating. I call and plead in my dreams for someone to wake me up. When I do wake up, my body is aching, my muscles are screaming and I just want to lay there and cry…and go back to sleep.
I fantasize about rising at dawn and sitting on the porch drinking my coffee. I crave the feeling of waking up rested and ready to kick ass. I want to walk my dog, wash the floor, plants some flowers, paint my bedroom and have a big party. But I can’t. Not now. Not anymore.
O sleep, O gentle sleep, Nature’s soft nurse.