Sleep Survival and Angels of Mercy

Meet the Wild Man on a Normal Day

Must look Confident and Serious

Show them you have Teeth, my son, so they know we've left our Ditchbank Trailer Days behind

Dear Deborah - our Lovely Angel of Mercy

Frankenstein preparing for the Launch of the Space Shuttle
(notice the ratty pillow which has lost it's covering and the tag still attached so as to prevent risk of arrest if ever removed)


Wild Man is in survival mode and loving the challenge. Only the strong overcome. (And does this kid rock, or what, for letting me take and post this picture. I owe him now.)

And though you may find it hard to believe, I may have overstated my potential sufferings at the sleep clinic.

While I wouldn't recommend this as a hotel, I have certainly slept far worse places. My hospital informants who contacted me knew not of what they spoke concerning my sleeping accommodations. My bed was, in fact, the very type I slept on when my son was three. It was a chair that folds completely flat. You wouldn't have any desire to purchase it from an infomercial, but it beat an airline seat on a red-eye flight, all to heck.

I slept. My son slept. Our technician, Deborah, couldn't have been nicer and more helpful. She chatted comfortably with us and was incredibly knowledgeable. I did a little clock watching and following of my son's monitor through the night. Fascinating to see your precious child drawing peaceful breaths and observe what is happening in his body. And yes, he has sleep issues. Has to see an Ear, Nose, and Throat specialist about those overly large tonsils (forgot to put that in the singles ad - had mine out when I was 25).

We both fell into deep sleep around 5a.m. - when they were supposed to kick us out - but Deborah, our angel, took mercy on us and let us sleep until 6:30. We walked out to a beautifully rainy day. The StonePowellReillys love weather. Must be our English/Scottish/Irish roots. Ah! thunder just now! And POURING rain!! Gotta go....the tradition is porch swing, hot chocolate, and stories on rainy/thunder days and I must heed the call! Thank you for all the prayers. They were answered!

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream (Bill Shakespeare)

Tonight my son and I will sleep (yeah, right) at a sleep clinic in a children's hospital. My sleep talking, sleep walking, shower taking while asleep, thrasher, turner, midnight oil burner, wake up exhausted son.

He takes after me. We don't "do" sleep easily. It's something we chase and it is not readily caught. Once we've got it pinned to the ground we duke it out and thrash around uneasily. We tend toward sleep apnea on my side. And we have both types: obstructive (low palette, fat tongue - would make a great singles ad) and central (brain doesn't show up for work and tell you to breathe). Grizzly Adam's side gets restless legs. Our poor son dove head first into the shallow end of the gene pool.

So tonight, naturally, he will not exhibit any of those aforementioned behaviors because they will be watching. And we all know how that goes. He'll have the best sleep of his life.

Not I. I am being relegated to a chair in his room. He will sleep lying down and I, presumably, will sleep lying up. And why I must be right there, every moment, in the room while he's sleeping, I have no idea. Don't get me wrong. I'm all for staying with your kids for just about everything. Hey, I HOMEschool for Pete's sake. But when he was three, and in the same hospital, they told me I could go home and they would take care of him. Of course, I didn't go home. I slept in a chair that laid down. But now that he's 13, I have to stay with him in the full-and-upright-airplane-crash-death-defying position?

Well, that's just the way it is. He and I have pulled our share of all-nighters. What mother hasn't? I'm just spoiled because I thought when I weaned him we would now sleep through the night. And we did. Five years later.

So here we go toward another "Night of the Living Dead." Maybe I'll try to find a shower, like my son, and go lay down on the floor of it and sleep. When some tired, naked janitor steps in and turns on the cold water to wake himself up, I'll know it's time to go home, or go blind.

Copyright 2009