It's 3:50 a.m. and I have yet to sleep. I have these nights from time to time.
Prednisone to blame this time, I suppose, but only two more days of tapering down, then I'm off of that powerful drug. Perhaps then I'll get some sleep.
Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleave of care, Shakespeare's line having become my mantra these last several nights.
I have wondered if I ever really needed the drug, since we know that I did not have what the doctor thought I had when he prescribed it. And such a huge dose. The pharmacist said, and I am quoting, "Whoa, huge dose." Not exactly a comfort. But so be it. I have taken it, the first time in my life, having heard all my life of its benefits and more of its dangers.
I've done laundry, paid a bill, mixed up some yogurt, sung "Tuppence a Bag" a thousand times and added in a few hymns. I've gathered up the trash throughout the house and rolled the can out to the curb. I've gotten back in bed at least ten times, tried this posture and that, put on another blanket, covered the heat registers, given up and gotten up. I have read two articles in the Ensign, and several news pieces online. Now I'm just putting the night into these words of small consequence.
Yes, I have also tried just lying there in bed, willing sleep to come. Not my favorite kind of night.
My eyes feel sleepy, but apparently they are not in charge.
1 comment:
I wish I had known because I was up until 2 a.m. Maybe we could have gotten together! :)
Post a Comment