Thursday, November 20, 2008
That's me all right. Uncoordinated klutz who's everyday stories are ridiculous yarns spun only from the truth. Which brings me to last night...
I was up late working on designing my Christmas card for this year (more to come on that soon). I went to bed around 11:30, which anyone can tell you is definitely late for me. I fell asleep quickly but was woken an hour later by my body violently choking... on my own spit. That's right people, I somehow managed to inhale spit while I was sleeping and thank the Lord that he created a good cough reflex. I coughed and I sputtered. I sat up in bed and gasped for air. I reached for the glass of water always at the ready on my bedside (for such emergencies) and gulped half of it down. I calmed down some but my heart was still racing and I was still coughing, so I got up and made myself tea and watched an episode of Pushing Dasies. Which is actually something I might have been doing, thanks to my unruly spit. Lame joke, I know.
I went back to bed and fell asleep again. I woke two hours later with a sharp pain shooting down my leg. This was definitely no charlie horse. Oh no, it felt like my leg had gone past falling asleep, past any sort of cramping, and had decided to instead stage a mutiny from my body. Instinctively in my sleep addled brain I somehow knew that I had to get blood moving to my leg. I threw myself over the side of my bed, picked myself up off the floor, and proceeded to jog-walk in place next to my bed. My eyes stayed closed to allow myself the denial that I was truly awake but my racing heart told no lies. The more I jog-walked, the better my leg felt but the more my hope of sleep left me. I plopped back in bed and tried valiantly to slumber for the next hour before my alarm went off, but occasionally my leg would twinge up and I would have to shake it around in bed to get it to stop. That's right, I was like a sleeping dog last night who dreams of catching his rabbit and acts it out with leg twitches.
So I sit here in my reading chair right now, tired beyond belief, yet trying to delay the inevitable bedtime. I don't know what tonight will bring and I somewhat dread the stories I may have to tell you tomorrow. So until then, I bid you goodnight. I'm off to practice safe sleep.
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3 comments:
Way to aspirate your own saliva. A little known fact: occasionally, when people are very deeply asleep, their swallow reflex that usually keeps all that spit where it ought to be can be... somewhat unresponsive. It's worse if you're sick or having excess secretions for some other reason. The good news: If you are reasonably healthy, you can't choke to death on your own spit because it's a liquid and will not physically block your airway. The bad news: You will have the world's most wild coughing fits that hurt like heck if you actually manage to aspirate the spit very far below the vocal folds.
I'm sorry, I can't help myself. I'm such a swallowing nerd.
-Lisa
P.S. Appreciating the extra irony of your blog name with this post.
-Lisa
You are now the official Thanksgiving entertainment. I would put some George Wahingtons in your bra or what-not just to see the "walk-jog". And Im not surprised about the chocking. I am however surprised that this has not happened to you before. Youve always been a bit drooly when you sleep....I think youve just gotten lucky up until now.
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