I knew it would happen. The human body can only take so much before it takes things into it's own...hands. After four months without proper nighttime meds, my body is starting to shut down. For those of you that have not experienced chronic sleep deprivation, think of the effects of this ailment like a laptop running low on battery power. The screens dims, then vanishes, to conserve the battery. Today the screen is vanishing quickly. It's been dim for quite awhile. Go ahead, laugh. I did. Until today. Today my ability to walk straight is compromised. I am dizzy. I have blurred vision, shaking, confusion, itching, inability to concentrate, nystagmus (?), and of course the obsessive thoughts of when I get to sleep. Consider this. I was behind the wheel of a car. Life doesn't stop because you can't afford to get your sleep meds.
As I was driving the twenty minutes to pick up my meds, so many things were coursing through my mind. I was hoping I could keep my focus on the road. I was grateful that I would finally be able to get the meds necessary to ensure more than a few hours of broken sleep. I was grateful that my boy was returning home from his nature camp. I was thankful to be alive. Even as awful as I felt/feel...the alternative is unthinkable. I was also angry. Angry that in a country so wealthy it "can" help other nations overcome their trials, average people have to chose between food, mortgages, utilities and medical care. I am so angry! This month I chose to fill my prescription for sleep. Chose? That should not be a choice that anyone has to make! It should be a certainty. As John Q. Archibald shouted to police, "Sick. Help. Sick. Help." They should go together. Simple. It shouldn't be a partisan issue. It should be a human issue.
Once upon a time, getting a job at even a moderately sized company ensured not only a steady income, but reasonably priced Group Insurance. Today, neither is guaranteed. In the case of health care, some employers have had to raise the cost of the employee share of insurance to the point that employees have had to drop their insurance. A friend of mine had to do this, and he feels as though he has gotten a sizable raise. Being a reasonably healthy man, he was able to do this with only the nagging fear, that at age 51, his body warranty will run out. This is inexcusable. We have decades of greed to thank for it. Greed by lawyers, pharmaceutical companies, advertisers, insurance companies and a generation or so of "the world owes me". What is a person to do, after all, if Neosporin doesn't heal that hangnail instantly? Sue, of course! And up go the medical costs.
I hate acting girly. Forget that I am a girl. Feeling like this, so broken down, uncovers my tears. You name it, it makes me cry. On a normal daily basis, I am able to talk myself strong. I am proud of that. I can read, recite and recall positive thoughts and I can move forward. No matter how bad the pain is on that day. Chronic sleep deprivation threatens to toss it all out the window. Tears come too easily. On this day I pick Nick up from Loredo Taft, a nature camp. After spending nearly eight hours a day outside, he will be exhausted and cranky. I need to counter that. And I will. I will. I will collapse tonight and sleep, but during the rest of the day I will be comforting and understanding for Nick. Why did today have to be the day my screen started going blank?
Okay. Half hour to pick-up. Deep breaths. Focus. Only eight hours until bedtime......
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