Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Morning Mist

Nights may be the hardest time of day for me. With pain all day, I want nothing more than an 8 hour escape from it. But while most people use this time to rest, recharge, and rev themselves for the next day, mine is spent tossing and turning and is far from restful. I dread crawling into bed. I have not had the luxury of a good night's sleep in over two years - and when I say good, I mean NOT waking up 4-5 times per night in pain, and waking up at crack of dawn needing to break loose from my bedroom prison.

It's like I sleep with some cruel partner who takes pleasure in waking me over and over. Poking me relentlessly through the night going "wake up, wake up!" Then an hour later "are you awake, are you awake?" And then as early as possible "get up, get up!" I get out of bed a few times per night to grab an ice pack or heat pack, take a pain pill, stretch, or sometimes move to the couch for a different feeling on my back. This little evil partner is sitting there laughing, waiting for me to fall asleep again just to wake me up once more.

It usually takes me about a half hour to actually get out of bed in the morning, I am in such intense pain from lying in the same position for so many hours my back cannot take another minute of it. But after a fitful night of sleep, my mind is fighting as hard as it can to get my body to stay in bed and sleep some more. But it's useless. I need a sleeping pill every night just to get enough past the pain where I can fall asleep. It only works for a few hours, until I wake up for the first time.

Up at 6:00 this morning, the house completely silent. I am always the first one up, except for Uncle Hal who has already left for work. I open my door in a very specific way to avoid it's loud creaking, and tip-toe out to the couch. I lay down for a few minutes staring out the window then go outside. 62 degrees, light grey sky, and a light misting. The only sounds I can hear are from the neighborhood waking up. A baby crying and mom trying to calm it. A dog barking. And all the happy little birds chirping back and forth. Do you think birds sleep well? Or are they talking about the same thing as me? Something like...

CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP (translation): "I slept so bad last night, the babies kept waking me up."
CHIRP-CHIRP-CHIRP: "Yeah me too, mine kept pushing me out of the nest."

What do you think?


  1. Chels, you are always the best at looking at the good in life - the birds, in their morning simplicity. The birds that chirp at night and in the wee morning hours are some of my most favorite sounds in the world. I always anticipate summer coming because that means the birds at night!! I love to just lay in bed and listen, for all the different chirps. So many different sounds! Sometimes they are so loud they wake me up, but I always just have to smile a little at that, because I think they are so sweet.

    Saturday afternoon I was sitting on the floor in the living room, and I saw Mary Jane out of the corner of my eye. I could hear the birds chirping outside so I said out loud to her, "Jane! Do you hear all the beautiful birds outside?" Then Billy says "Ahh! Georgia! She has one in her mouth!" And sure enough, just as I was thinking about how awesome the birds were, there was on in her mouth! Billy took care of it, I don't know if it made it. It was such a funny coincidence!

    Love you Chels,

  2. There are so many birds around my aunt's house, and they are all the little cute ones. I hate the big huge ones, they scare me, but the little ones are so sweet. The hummingbirds LOVE the Echium in the backyard, so when it was in full bloom a month or so ago, there were tons of them in the morning and the late afternoon (to avoid the bees). And then there are little tiny yellow and blue and grey ones who sit on the fence, and search for food in the grass. We even had a bird's nest on the side of the house. Oh-and you can always hear the doves cooing away :)

    I HATE when you see the cats with critters...I know it's just the way life is but still. Emma (the cat my mom got after Emma died) is quite the little hunter and leaves frequent presents...dead (cough) presents in the house for my mom. Sweet in a way, but a little gruesome! When she was a kitten, she would LEAP up in the air leap after leap catching bugs. It was so funny to watch!

    Love you too Georgia!


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