Me+Sleep= A love/hate relationship

Let me begin by informing you that, as I begin this entry, it is after midnight and I'm lying in bed, begrudgingly awake. Figures.

The sandman and I, we have issues. I love sleep, and I think the main reason I love it so much is because I don't get enough of it. I yearn for a good nights sleep, yet I am consistently disappointed. The problems that keep me from sleeping are manifold. I think I'll address them like a films cast; in order of appearance.

Those of you who know me, know I'm one of those creative types; artist, actor, singer, puppeteer, didgeridoo player, etc. As such, I have an incredibly difficult time falling asleep. I simply can't seem to shut off my brain. So most of the time, I'm up late sketching or writing or even just brainstorming various ideas. Then, when the fatigue of the day can no longer be ignored, I shuffle off to bed only to lay awake while a cavalcade of different thoughts and ideas parade through my cerebrum. Unfortunately, by this point I'm so tired that when I try to take hold of a passing fancy I can't keep a good grasp and it slips through my fingers. Bye bye, so long, another will come by soon enough only to be fumbled by sleepy metaphorical fingers again.
Finally my brain has shuts the gates and is not letting anyone else in. Closing time, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here. Now we come to the next hurdle to a good nights sleep; Restless Leg Syndrome.

 Also known as RLS, If you have it, you know how much it can suck. My legs just can't get comfortable. Positions that normally would be perfectly acceptable, have become torturous. My knees ache and calves twitch, causing me to toss and turn in vain attempts to find some magical position that doesn't make me want to chop off the offending limbs. Apparently I've had it for a while; about thirteen years ago, while sitting in bed at two AM I wrote "...like I woke up with a new set of legs and the knees are still deciding which way to bend." Sometimes it takes longer, sometimes relatively quickly, but somehow, It eventually subsides.

Brain's quiet, legs are under control, but the biggest (and most potentially dangerous) problem has yet to rear it's ugly head. Shortly after falling asleep, I begin to snore in great roaring bellows of glottal vibration. I have horrendous sleep apnea. That doesn't just mean I snore bad enough to wake the dead. Sleep apnea is when you stop breathing in your sleep. My airway just closes up, no warning, and I sputter awake just enough to open it back up until it closes again and we repeat the cycle. The danger comes if you don't wake up in time and die which is a serious possibility According to the sleep study I took a few years back, I have sleep apnea at a level equivalent of a man more than twice my age. Damn. So, to combat this, I was given a CPAP machine. CPAP stands for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. Basically, it consists of an air pump with a little humidifier connected via a hose to a face mask that I strap to my head and wear over my nose. It does just what it says; continuously pumps air into my airway to keep it from closing. It doesn't pump so hard that I can't breath out against it, but it is slightly more difficult than normal. Suffice to say, the goram thing is damn uncomfortable. At least it keeps me alive, keeps me breathing. That is, it would, if I wore it. I know, I know, I should be wearing the piece of equipment that holds my airway open, but the reason I don't wear it is also the next reason sleep is but a fond memory.

I've written before about my son Gavin's inexplicable ability to make pacifiers vanish into thin air (for reference, see http://jaxxonblogspot.blogspot.com/2011/01/having-children-means-never-sleeping.html and http://jaxxonblogspot.blogspot.com/2011/02/gavin-great.html). Because I have to get up repeatedly in the night to re-bink the boy, it's really rather pointless to wear my CPAP mask. But my daughter, Jillian, gets in on the act too. We all know kids climb into bed with their parents in the middle of the night; Jillie does too. And, in stereo-typical fashion, I wind up with knees in my kidneys, arms in my face, and tossing and turning kicks to the groin. Then there's the hair. Jillie's hair is a near perfect genetic split between mine and Belinda's; it's red like mine and curly as all get-out like my wife's. And, like Belinda, when it's pulled back in a hair tie it looks something akin to a bath pouf. It's very cute, but when she rolls over and it winds up in my face, not so much.

There you have it. The sad state of affairs between me and the land of Nod. Someday I'll visit again, someday I'll get a good nights sleep. When that will happen, one can only guess. Until then, I guess things will continue apace. Sleep and I, star crossed lovers, drawn to one another, yet doomed to be kept apart by the forces that be. Goodnight, sweet prince. Parting is such sweet sorrow!

Gavin the Great!

Let it be known that my son, Gavin Oliver Hamilton, is a freakin' WIZARD! I kid you not, the boy is like the Houdini of pacifiers. He'll have one in his mouth and two seconds later it's nowhere to be found; believe me, I've looked. It's not on the floor, not on the couch, not in Jillians room, GONE! Into thin air! Three hours later... Voila! The binky magically re-apears in his mouth! Astounding! How ~does~ he do it? In the middle of the night; abracadabra binky be gone! No trace. It's evil sorcery I tells ya. Change his diaper in the morning and lo and behold, the binky has been magically transported to the heel of his footie pjs! Last night, he pulled off his most amazing trick yet. I hear a fuss from his room and expect the usual disapearing act and what to my wondering eyes should appear? Our little magic man, sitting up with a binky in his mouth, one in each hand, and one in his lap! And there was only one in the crib to begin with! He just sat there, with no idea what to do with himself, there were simply too many binkies for him too deal with. Bravo child, bravo. I need to get this kid to Vegas. I could make a fortune. Abra-ca-binky!

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