‘Twas the night before Monday and at Jason's house, he wrestled and he struggled to get ready for bed.
A long ago diagnosis of sleep apnea has resulted in four different machines, a humpteen dozen masks for CPAP, various sleep aides, four or five dental appliances including the last one I broke in my sleep, four weight losses of 30 pounds that all jumped back on me and then some and still very little sleep.
Such was the case this night. I struggled to put on my Darth Vader machine, but I managed. The hose kept coming unattached, which is frustrating, despite the fact I really don't want a hair dryer blowing at full force down my throat all night.
I don't wear a cap to bed, but I did one time long ago on a winter’s night at Grandma Jones's place. With the fireplace doused and the gas heater down to the pilot light, I awoke in two layers of flannel pajamas, two quilts, a blanket and a cap around my head. It was 40 degrees in the bedroom. I could see my breath.
I am thankful for creature comforts now. I keep it at 74 at my house in the winter and 78 in the summer. I am thankful the nights are comfortable right now.
I wallowed out my nest in the bed and drifted off to slumber. Not a creature was stirring, not even Jason. Truth is, I shouldn't have been stirring at that time of night. The glaring red digits on the clock on my bedstand read 3:12 a.m. Grandma always said nothing good happens that time of night.
I drifted off to dream. I am not sure sugar plums danced in my head, but I am pretty sure a Sara Evans look a like or two and some chocolate chip cookies danced around up there.
I went off to sleep. I revisited a trip to Walmart back before Christmas. I found myself back in the area near the layaway department and what back in the old long ago of my memories was the training room.
Walmart was the first job I had out of high school.
I was not real well equipped for retail work and other than some rudimentary knowledge didn’t know much about the hardware department I was assigned to.
I worked, showed up on time and manned that department best I could. I was part-time, but once got 40 hours. I thought I was rich at 4.25 per hour.
That is until the day before Christmas Eve. I was fired. The manager said “I was a poor excuse for an associate.” Those words still cut like a knife now —some 34 years later. Maybe he was right. But, he’s ugly, hateful and a poothead, so there. Maybe it was that thing that disturbed my sleep — not that I need much to do it. Occasionally, I have the sensation of having run – I’m breathing hard and sling off the mask. Many times I don’t remember, but find the mask across the room or at the foot of the bed.
This time, I had the sensation of falling, of sinking of being on the edge. Maybe I was falling down a hill or off a cliff.
I awoke to find myself teetering on the edge of the bed, saved only by one of the many pillows I stack up around me.
I use them, apparently, to build pillow castles to reinforce the delusion that I am the king of all media, minus the crown.
The blaring alarm clock soon jarred me from my slumber and I woke up from a short, fitful sleep.
I managed not to fall off the bed, dreamed of chocolate chip cookies and Sara Evans, too.
Maybe it was a good night’s sleep after all.
Jason Deal is News Editor for The Blackshear Times. Reach him at jdeal@blacksheartimes. news.
