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After the best two-night's sleep of the past several months, last night was not so good. I went to bed around midnight and feel asleep relatively well, but woke up at 3:48 and could not go back to sleep. So I had less than 3 hours and 48 minutes of sleep and I'm "tired but wired." I had all my usual "heeby-jeeby" symptoms, restlessness, twitching, itchy, crawly skin etc. And that wide awake never going to sleep again feeling, even though I was tired and wanted to sleep.
The two nights I slept well, I ate at home, and ate healthy food in reasonable portions. Last night, Sara and I ate out at Danzer's, after visiting my mother together at Loretto nearby. I had a salad composed of iceberg lettuce, tomatoes and rye-bread croutons with Italian dressing, chicken schnitzel (fried in "butter"!), German potato salad, and mixed vegetables, lemon water, and apple fritters. Then, when I got home, I was having a little heartburn and ate some Tums. They were assorted berry Tums and have artificial flavor and color. I never thought of that as a source of a potential hazard.
This was an unhealthy meal in a variety of ways:
Ø Fried food and butter are bad for my cholesterol
Ø I'm allergic to dairy, it worsens my asthma and fibro (and may keep me awake?)
Ø Potatoes, tomatoes (and all nightshades) are bad for my arthritis and neck problem (and may exacerbate my insomnia??)
Ø It was too big, and fattening. I don't need big fattening meals. I don't need to be fat, fat exacerbates my arthritis, fibro, sleep disturbances etc)
Ø It gave me heartburn and the Tums had artificial color and flavor and sweetener, any of which could be causing my sleep disturbance and affecting my ADHD
Besides which, it didn't taste good. I didn't like it, except the apple fritters. Never will I order that again. The chicken was so dried out it was like shoe leather and the German potato salad tasted like it came out of a can.
After two nice nights where I was starting to feel better, it was very disappointing to have a bad night.
One other thing: I started the thyroid supplements (pills, Synthroid) yesterday, and I don't know how that factors into the equation.
And now I also have a bit of a tummy ache. It's fairly mild and has already improved a little.
It's very cold out, and windy. I slept with an extra fleece on last night. It's supposed to snow today.
I hope I can sleep tonight. Tomorrow I have to drive to Hamilton. I WANT to drive to Hamilton to see my sweetie. I was so hoping I would be rested and feel well so we could have lots of fun today. I am more cheerful and happy and less grumpy and crank when I am rested and not in pain. I want to be happy with my sweetie and have fun. I don't want to fall asleep on the road. I hope all the eating out there doesn't make me feel worse.
"I've been trying to remember the name of my street," my mother says to me, when I arrive at Loretto, the nursing home where she now lives. “And I finally did!”
"Oh," I ask, “and what is it?" I inquire.
"Ellsworth Ave," she says, and I nod. Yep.
I've given up arguing or explaining.
There is no point in telling her that she hasn't lived on Ellsworth Ave for more than sixty years. She won't remember for even 30 seconds.
She wants me to take her there, now that she has finally remembered, again, for the hundredth time. She remembers very few minutes. I try telling her she lives here, at the nursing home. I try telling her I'm busy and have other plans. I try telling her she’ll miss dinner. Nothing works. She insists that I take her to Ellsworth Ave.
Instead, I take her for a walk. Every little while, she tells me she doesn’t know where she left her car. Or that Pa is home waiting for her and she needs to go home and make dinner for him. If I mention he's dead, she's horrified, for 30 seconds, and then forgets.
As I push her wheelchair past trees with lovely autumn color, she carries on a running monologue repeating certain themes. "I don't know where I am, I've lost the car, I need to get home, I need to check on Grandma. I have to see to Aunt Anna." I’ve never even met her Aunt Anna. I've never even heard of her until now, it was that long ago.
I try to assure her that everything is OK, but of course, it's not OK. Everyone she's looking for is dead. And she is unwell. Her confusion makes things worse. She's living a nightmare.
Her life is a living nightmare. Upsetting for her and terrifying to me. I could be following right behind into that well of darkness.
(Some oriental dream work teaches the student to lucid dream for the purpose of acquiring the necessary skill to wake up and become conscious during the hallucinations that accompany dying so that one can move serenely into the land of the dead. But how can one become conscious in the dream-reality of dying if one is not lucid to begin with?)