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Carol Perkins: I Couldn't Sleep at All Last Night The worst part of her teaching career was having to get up early. But with a recliner for refuge from nighttime restlessness, and a wonderful husband who'll drive her around the countryside while she snoozes, she's finally found, in her inimicably humorous manner, the cure for sleeplessness. To read her next previous story click on "A Mall Massage" By Carol Perkins I Couldn't Sleep at All Last Night I have never flung my feet over the side of the bed in the morning with a smile on my face. Never once. I have never risen feeling better than I did before I went to bed. Never once. As a matter of fact, when I get up I will feel just like I have been whipped. The cover is on the floor in a wad, the pillow scrunched up into a ball, and my gown twisted to the point the front is in the back. The other morning when I looked into the mirror, the top of my hair looked like a rooster. When I was young I couldn't sleep enough. At slumber parties, I truly wanted to slumber while all the other girls thrived on jumping on the bed and giggling. I tried to stay awake for my own safety but more often than not, I''d be dead to the world before midnight. Oh, for those days again. If school had been from 10pm until 4am, she would have been a genius If school had been from 10 until 4, I would have been a genius. Whoever said kids learn better in the morning did not know me. My brain was and still is numb until around ten. When I was in college no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape an eight o'clock class. I can see myself now, barely able to keep my head from dangling off the hand that held it up. Not long ago, I found some old notebooks and laughed at writing that ran off the sides of the yellowed pages when I drifted off. Higher education. The worst part of my teaching profession was having to get up early. Almost every morning, I ambled from the bed to the chair and stared into space. I called it "chair time." I would sit and stare. Years ago I heard Guy's mom talk about sleeping in the recliner and I just couldn't understand that. The recliner is now my friend. I go from the bed to the recliner and back and forth. Now that I don't have to get up, I still amble to the chair and sit and stare. OTCs work, but they turn her into zombie, she claims All who suffer from this problem share solutions. I've tried all those PM's and Sleepy Times, and Nitie Nights and they work, but the problem is they are still working twelve hours later. I turn into a zombie with any of those over the counter remedies. My night always includes interruptions even if I fall asleep. In the wee hours of the morning not long ago, as I sat in the recliner with Fluffy by my side, I saw the shadow of Guy coming down the hall. He stopped, turned around, and went back to the bedroom. Then he came down the hall again. "What's wrong?" I asked. wide awake as usual. "My back hurts. I'm going to take some Tylenol." I hated to tell him I took the last one a week ago so I thought fast. "There is some Ibuprofen in the drawer. That will work better for your back." Naturally, he couldn't find it so I got up. It wasn't there. "You must have taken it all," he said. "I haven't taken any." At 3am, they're arguing over who took last Ibuprofen' We went back and forth about what happened to them until he said, "Well, maybe Fluffy took the last one. At three o'clock in the morning we're arguing over Ibuprofen," he laughed. "You started it." He walked into the den and saw the portable phone was gone from its dock. "Where's the phone?" he asked, half awake and half asleep. "You gonna call somebody?" That night, coupled with all the others like this one, led me to the Sleep Clinic. I had to get some rest. TJ Samson has a wonderful facility for Sleep Disorders. I spent the night in a pleasant room with over twenty wires hooked to me as a way to monitor my sleep. Big Brother had arrived. I had those wires twisted around me so tightly I thought they were going to cut off my circulation. When I had to go to the bathroom, someone had to untangled me. Finally, I drifted off. At sleep ciinic, she felt like she was sleeping in helmet Later, I was approved for a mask. Sleeping with that thing is like sleeping with a helmet over my head. If I lie on my side, I have to pull the suction hose over with me I am to keep my mouth shut or the air will leak from the device. I can't keep my mouth shut so my son-in-law told me to buy a strap, place under my chin, and tie it on top of my head. I visualized the Normal Rockwell picture of the kid with a toothache. Guy claims he can't sleep now because the noise this machine makes reminds him of an iron lung. I had to ask how many iron lungs he'd seen in his life. After talking to others near my age, I realize that sleep is a luxury. "Find the best place to take a nap and don't worry about what time it is. If you're tired, you need rest," I heard an expert say on a talk show. Guy Perkins provides the only cure My best place to sleep is in the car as it rolls down the highway. That's it. I know what I'll do. When I can't sleep, I'll have Guy drive me around the county just like we do the grandchildren when we want to get them to sleep. I envy those who get a good night's sleep. They have done a day's work before I've had my second cup of coffee. Maybe I'm just wired differently. In the meantime, I'll be "tossin' and turnin', toss and turn all night." I'm sure some of you are Sleepless in Adair County, too. About the author: Carol (Sullivan) Perkins is a lifelong resident of Edmonton, KY, in Metcalfe County where she taught high school English at Metcalfe County High School until her recent retirement. She is a now a freelance writer. is married to Guy Perkins and they have two children: Carla Green (Mark) of Brentwood, TN and Jon Perkins (Beth) of Austin, TX and six grandchildren. Her latest book, Let's Talk About, is a collection of over 70 of her works, and she is presently working on the second book in this series. Carol's ties to Adair County go back to Breeding where her grandfather, Rufus Reece, and her grandmother Bettie Strange, began their married life and later moved to Metcalfe County. You may contact Carol at cperkins@scrtc.com or write at P.O. Box 134 Edmonton. If you would like a copy of her book, you can order through email. Watch for her next story on Sunday, May 10, 2009. This story was posted on 2009-05-03 11:16:56
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Carol Perkins: A Mall Massage Carol Perkins: Stick Horses Carol Perkins: Playing in the Band Carol Perkins: To Tan or Not to Tan Carol Perkins: John Denver...The Memorial Service Carol Perkins: Beech Bend Park Carol Perkins: Skate Key Carol Perkins: To The State CAROL PERKINS: Hit the slopes View even more articles in topic Carol Perkins |
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