bonne nuit

This was me when I awoke this morning.

No, I was not being tortured by Nazis -- just undergoing a sleep study.

If you've read this post, you know that I suffer from insomnia.  Well, my doctor recommended a sleep study just a few months after the Bug was born, but since it would've cost me about $3,000 to obtain said sleep study, it never was obtained.  And, now, my insurance finally covers sleep studies. 

That's right.  My insurance paid for them to do this to me.

This after my blood work was "normal" and my doctor insisted I'm just a "chronic insomniac." 

So this is sort of a last-ditch medical effort to determine exactly what is wrong with me, because I will not accept this "chronic insomniac" poppycock.

I've been nervous since the day the study was scheduled, so when the receptionist called to confirm, I peppered her with questions.

Can I lock my door?

Who is gonna be there?

Is the tech a man or a woman?

Do I still take my sleep meds?

Can I use my sound machine?

What happens in case of a fire?

What do I do if I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night?

The girl's tone suggested that these were the most ridiculous questions she's ever heard in her life.

Well sorry, Boo, but I already have trouble sleeping.  How do you think sleeping in a strange room with Lord-knows-who roaming the halls and no lock on the door is gonna work for me?

My fears were confirmed when I arrived at the office at 8 pm and see this guy going in.

It wasn't actually this guy ('cuz that would've been cool), but it was someone like this guy. 

Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against this guy.  I'm sure he's very charming.

My objection was to the fact that my door could not be locked during the night (for safety reasons???) and I was quite worried that -- horror of horrors- I could find this guy looming over my bed in the middle of the night in a deep sleep stupor or, worse yet, climbing into bed with me.

And I've seen enough episodes of I Love Lucy and Three's Company to know that could really happen.

After leaving me there for about 45 minutes to stare at the electrical grid I was to be hooked up to, the tech finally came back.

Y'all...

Seriously, I didn't count the wires, but there had to be at least 30 of 'em.

I felt like Frankenstein (except a little cuter).

Anyway, when she finally came back, she explained that once I was hooked up, I had to stay in bed with the lights out, and they would be watching me on the camera. 

As Chandler Bing would say, "Could it be any creepier?"

But, on the flip side, can you imagine what peculiar things these sleep techs must see on a regular basis?  Marvelous.

I had to knock on the headboard if I needed anything.  Anything.  I could not leave the bed. 

Since I knew that the aforementioned guy was under the same supervision, I knew he wouldn't be stumbling into my room.  The only consolation I had in this entire meddlesome ordeal.

The lady comes back and measured my head and -- no lie -- wrote all over my head with a wax pencil.  Then she applied some sort of glue and electrodes all over my head. Probably about 20 of them.  I also had one on my throat, chest and two on each leg.  I also had to wear that oxygen thingy on my finger, but when she put the oxygen thing in my nose (you know the thing that looks like an electrical plug), it took all I had to remain in that bed. 

That was very close to crossing the line with me.

But by that point, it would've taken at least a half hour to unhook me, so I decided against it.

She turns out all the lights and leaves the room, which is now pitch dark except for this red light glaring at me.  It looked like a demonic eye (or how I would imagine one to look like), which really helped with the nervous tension I was already experiencing.

Then I hear her voice over the intercom.

Lie still with your eyes closed.

Lie still with your eyes open.

Move your left leg.

Move your right leg.

Snore 3 times.  Do what???

Breathe through your nose only.

Breathe through your mouth only.

Take a deep breath and hold it.  Um....passing out a little, here!!

Okay, good night.

Within 5 minutes I was knocking on the headboard because my finger was completely numb from the oxygen thingy on my finger.

About an hour later, I was knocking on the headboard to have her unhook me so that I could go to the bathroom.  I had to carry my little electrical box with me.

And the rest of the night was a fitful blur of tossing and turning with this ridiculous mass of wires connected to my body.

They woke me at 5:40 a.m. and we went through the whole closed eyes, open eyes, move legs, and snore hullabaloo.

She disconnected me, and I was free to go.

So, in 5 to 6 business days, I am hoping to have an answer.

We shall see.

My Commitment to You (Part 3?)

I know you think I'm making these things up, but I promise you I'm not.  These are real bonafide businesses scattered anywhere across the deep south.  (If you'd like to see Parts 1 and 2, click here and here.)

My friends and I have been hard at work to bring these to you so, in appreciation, feel free to share any gems you may discover in your travels.

Repeat After Me Women's Consignment

Holy Spirit Thrift Shop

Luv Me 2 Times (consignment)

U Save Dentistry

Action Game and Movie

Sweet Repeats Fine Furniture Consignment

Biscuit King

Bangz

Rising Star Primitive Baptist Church

Compliments Hair Studio

Flava Snoballs & BBQ Plate Lunches

Spicy Kutz

A Time for Me Salon

Kwality Kutz

Poise'n Ivy Ladies Fashions

Potluck Boutique

Anointed Kutz

Nappy Roots

Lawn and Order (Get Mow for your Money)

Now, that's funny, right there -- I don't care who you are.

The Night I Accidentally Got Stoned (and an unrelated pizza stone)

So I am glad that the heart-wrenching day of sending my firstborn off to Kindergarten is over.

Weeping lasted through the night, but joy came in the morning in the form of the FedEx man and this package from Pampered Chef.

It is my new pizza stone to replace my old pizza stone that Handy Daddy broke trying to cook pancakes on the stove top.

When I found out they'd send me a new one to replace the broken one, I informed him that he was off the hook.  I thought he would've been glad about that but, he was ambivalent, adding "I never knew I was on the hook."

Well, of course he was on the hook.  It was pretty much brand-new, used only twice to cook pizzas that were less than satisfactory.  That being because I used refrigerated Pillsbury pizza dough, which I am now boycotting because the silly things are rectangle, and pizzas, in most of the civilized world, are circle.

Okay, so I know you're probably like, "Shut up about the stupid pizza stone and tell us how you got stoned!"

Well, unfortunately, and unlike my good friend, Jodie, my super power is not "laying down and going to sleep." 

I would almost certainly sell a kidney to gain possession of that super power but, as of press time, I am a lifetime insomniac who has relied on a cocktail of drugs to lull me to that sweet sweet bye and bye for years. 

I am claiming deliverance, but that deliverance has not yet been granted, and so I just live with the thorn in my side of requiring horse tranquilizers to sleep. 

Not really.

Anyway...

I was out of my usual pills that help to shut down the non-stop freight train that is my brain and found some Ambien in the pantry.  This was prescribed to me a while back, but I didn't like the effect, so I hadn't taken them in a while. 

My doc prescribed 10 mg but told me to break them in half...

Well, I forgot all about that whole "break it in half" bit and took a whole one last night.

I went and sat on the couch and talked to Handy Daddy about school.  That's pretty much the last thing I remember.

He said I was talking about school and then I was quiet for a while.

He looked over at me and my mouth was hanging open and my eyes were barely open and I was tapping my hand on the folder sitting in my lap (picture a heavily-drugged pscyh patient).

This was our exchange:

"Mama, are you alright?"
"No."
"What's wrong with you?"
"I'm seeing double."
"Are you messin' with me?"
"No."
"Well, I think you should go to bed."

I got up and zig-zagged myself to the bathroom where I commenced to brush my teeth, wash my face, apply my lotions...

Handy Daddy comes in to check on me.

"I think you need to forget about all that and just go to bed."
"Have I gone to the bathroom yet?"
"I don't know.  Have you?"
"I don't know."
"Well, you'd probably better, since you've already lost control of the rest of you."

I actually woke up feeling pretty good, so it wasn't all a loss.

I found Handy Daddy sleeping on the couch.

"Why are you sleeping there?"
"Because Tootsie kept crying last night and you were...like...Night of the Living Dead."

He told me everything and I nearly peed my pants.

This is his re-enactment, for your viewing pleasure.



I joked that he could have had his way with me and I would've been none the wiser, to which he replied, "No I can assure you that nothing happened."

Hmpf.

Whatever.

I attribute this only to this...

...and not the fact that he was the perfect gentleman.

I cannot tell this story without telling you about an eerily similar experience of Handy Daddy's.

One of the things I've taken over the years (I use different things when something stops working) is an over-the-counter medicine called Alteril. 

I have to take at least two of them and wait at least an hour or so to get sleepy.  It's what I'd recommend to an infant with insomnia. 

Not really.

So anyway, Handy Daddy was having trouble sleeping one night and took ONE of them. 

I found him face down in just his skivvies in the guest room with the "big light" on (as opposed to the lamp-- go with it...it's what I call it).

The only way I can explain it is that he looked like he had stumbled home from a crack party (or what I envision someone looking like if they stumbled home from a crack party -- I really have no idea, thanks be to God).

Ahhhh, the memories.

A day which will live in infamy...

My Bug started Kindergarten today. 

I have not cried (unless you count my eyes tearing up and choked-back sobs).

The day has been a whirlwind, and I haven't been able to digest this information. 

The children are napping now, and I wanted to give you all a quick update.

Now that that's done, excuse me whilst I will retreat to a corner and lick my wounds.