Oh, how I’ve learned over the last several years, general anesthesia and sleep and I do not mix. My sleep pattern goes straight to hell. Or maybe it’s out the window or down the road. I don’t know.
Over the years I’ve made adjustments to put in eight hours. Once, long ago, gloriously, I simply slept eight hours. Then I’d wake for the bathroom, sometime in the night, but found I only slept an extra hour to compensate.
A go round with general anesthesia, though, and my sleep cycle is a mess.
In the two and a half months since I broke my leg, I’ve not had a good night’s sleep. Sometimes I sleep four hours, then three, then two, then one. Sometimes two hours, then three, then one and one and one. Or any crazy mix at all.
Once I slept six straight hours and thought “Oh, boy, it’s over! I’m back on track!” Wrong.
In real news, Laura put in another morning at the food bank. She says all the people she works with are old, “like they’re retired or something. We don’t talk much, unless there’s a break in what we’re doing.”
Tomorrow morning I have to go to the hospital for a pre-admittance exam, and in the afternoon to see my counselor, Kathleen the Wonderful. So, no opportunity for Laura to go off to do service work. She’s kept up with English and ASL, and physics, but still has not heard from her trig teacher. Perhaps that’s part of the punishment.
Nevertheless, I suggested she email the unit principal to see if he will see if there is a problem. Grandmothers are troublesome like that. Just one poke, though.
I’m here making chit chat until a reasonable time to go to bed. It’s only six thirty.
I do need to take a nap. But, here’s one thing I’ve always wondered. Do you know when you fall asleep. How?