Tag Archives: Sleeping

Microwaves, smartphones, peanut butter, and sleep walking

For some reason my sleep-walking has become worse over the past few weeks. Besides the usual things like rearranging the towels, or being found sitting on the edge of the bed, or waking up on the toilet, I have awoken in the kitchen after microwaving my smartphone.

When my husband Matt has found me sitting on the edge of the bed, I tend to be talking to myself. Sometimes he can understand what I am saying, but mostly I am mumbling gibberish. Eventually I return to laying down in the bed, and in the morning have no recollection of the incident.

I can understand being asleep on the loo. Obviously I have gone there to do my business, and well I just don’t leave for some reason. It is not a good place to sleep for any length of time, when I do wake up, my ass is sore, to be blunt. Toilet seats need to be heated and cushioned.

The other night I found myself in the kitchen. I had filled the dog treat jar (an old cookie jar) with water. Did I turn on the tap or take the jug of water from the refrigerator? Haven’t a clue. We use a butter bell for our butter. I found I had filled the bottom half of the container which is supposed to house the water, with butter. Again, I don’t know why. What woke me this time? Apparently I had been trying to open the jar of peanut butter but didn’t succeed. Now I don’t even like peanut butter all that much, we have it mainly for the dogs. Cocoa won’t take his daily arthritis medicine without a scoop of peanut butter.

The most interesting sleep-walking experience of 2015 is when I mistook my beloved Blackberry Z10 for a heating pad (the ones you can toss in the microwave or freezer). I have been in a lot of pain since Christmas, having done far too much with not enough rest. My pain level was reaching unmanageable levels, so I was sleeping with two heating pads on my back. Sometime during the night, I assume after they had cooled off, I placed both of them on the headboard above the bed.

Next well still asleep, I picked up my smartphone (again something I normally do when walking down the stairs at night, it has a flashlight I turn on so I won’t fall, but then I placed it in the microwave. I can only assume I thought it to be my new heating pad as I entered the time of 2 minutes and 20 seconds – the time it takes to warm the pads up. After about say a minute and thirty seconds, I saw flames in the microwave. My smartphone was on fire! I opened the door, smoke bellowed out, but realizing oxygen just makes the fire worse, I slam the door closed, and turn off the microwave.

The smoke alarms are blaring as I grab a soaking wet cloth, open the door again, and toss the cloth on the phone. The flames are out so I toss my Blackberry in a pot of water, which had been left in the sink to soak from the previous night’s dinner. At the same time the young man and my husband have run downstairs. The young man was thinking he could be the hero, saving us all from a fire, only to find his mother, me, standing by the sink saying WTF over and over. The young man is disappointed and believe what I have just done.Hubby goes around opening windows, and turning on our ceiling fans, in effort to remove the toxic smoke that has filled the first floor of our house.

I cut my smartphone out of the otter box, which had melted just a little. I’m a mess, still saying “WTF, how in the hell could I have mistaken my phone for a heating pad”. My husband takes the phone from me, and removes the back off to see if my SIM card or media card have survived. Well the SIM card pretty much melted but my media card seems to be alright. Matt takes my media card and inserts it in his phone, and finds it works perfectly well. There is some good news, my photographs are all there, my contacts, etc., but I’m stunned by what has happened, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

My Blackberry Z10 after being microwaved

Note: Never ever open the microwave door when there is a fire inside, unplug it. Also never microwave your phone.

He promised to Skype with me, instead he met me in the driveway

A picture of middle child showing off while canoeing..

Middle child showing off while canoeing.

The past week was quite trying for me, with a hospital visit for middle child, new medication for myself, hubby working different shifts plus overtime, I had pretty much met my limit by yesterday.

As I have mentioned in previous posts, middle child now attends college about four hours away. It is not a far distance but when she is off to the emergency department because she had passed a very large menstrual blood clot, she might as well be on another planet.

Numerous phone calls were made back and forth, money was transferred so a cab could be taken to the hospital (and back again). Tears were shed as she waited alone in a strange emergency department. The snow was coming down hard, our first storm of the season, as I debated whether or not to drive up there, knowing full well that I couldn’t make the drive myself, plans were thought out as to who could watch the dogs, so hubby could make the drive with me.

Middle child was seen by a doctor in record time for an emergency department, I believe she only waited about two hours, rather than four. Vitals were taken, blood work done. After determining she wasn’t anemic and all was stable they sent her home, telling her that the gynecologist would want to see her the next day.

Also during this week, sleeping for me was getting worse, with my one medication for chronic pain giving me insomnia. After seeing my physician, we decided that I would try a new prescription in hopes that I would start to get some sleep. So Friday, being alone, because hubby was working a twelve-hour day shift, I changed my meds. Usually if I start a new medication someone is always with me just in case I have a reaction. Well with the young man away at university, middle child away at college and having her own medical issues, the eldest living in another city now, I was alone. So, I wrote out my new list and emailed everyone, that way if something happened, phone calls could be made and correct information given. My best friend was also given the list, plus a text message was sent to her, being that she is only about twenty minutes away and happened to be on vacation. By evening, middle child would be home for the weekend, and hubby would also be home from work to watch over me.

Later that night around 1 a.m. I was woken up with extreme nausea, only to hear a beeping sound from the answering machine. Work had left a message for hubby, needing him to come in for a few hours because all the boilers are down. (This is considered an emergency since he works at a hospital, the boilers are a vital component, without them the hospital is in real trouble). Of course it didn’t seem to matter that he would have to be back at work Saturday morning for another twelve-hour shift.

Back to bed I go, and in the morning I read over the side affects of the new medication. Well lo and behold, nausea was one of them, but was I being woken up by a migraine? I phoned my pharmacist to ask her advice and to find out if I could take my migraine medication, would it react with the new script I just started? After discussing everything with her, we decided I would take my meds for a migraine since it would not interact negatively with the new painkillers. She reassured me all was good, her information was up-to-date so I didn’t have to worry.

Within an hour or two, the migraine medication started to relieve the nausea and headache, enabling me to make my Saturday morning market visit. The had day progressed pretty well, I was starting to feel normal, and the new pain medication seemed to be working, allowing me to function. By the afternoon I thought I would phone the young man since I hadn’t spoken to him in a few days, to explain my new medication, and what was going on with his sister.  As I started to tell him my stories, he cut me off, saying he was busy at the moment, but promised to Skype with me in about an hour and a half.

After waiting more than the hour and a half for the Skype phone call from the young man that didn’t seem to be coming, I went out again to finish grocery shopping. It was getting late in the day, I was tired, the trying week was starting to catch up with me, I was borderline as to whether or not I would fall apart.

Picture of the young man's cowboy bootsAs I started to remove the groceries from the van, I saw middle child, plus the young man’s ex-girlfriend (but still awesome friend) walking towards me to help. Then out of the blue the young man appeared. I was stunned, overcome with emotion, and cried in the driveway as he held me. Though I couldn’t stop crying, I asked question after question, how did he get here, when did he get here, and then told him he couldn’t go out this evening. He continued to hug me as he chuckled and said I know mom, I will stay in.

I’ve been sleeping around

2nd floor new additionAround eight years ago, we gave our children a choice “Would you like an inground pool” or “Would you prefer your own bedroom?” They chose the second option, their own bedrooms, thus the addition to our house began. When we first moved into our house, twenty-one years ago, it was a tiny two bedroom house which worked for two years, then I became pregnant with our third child. So Matt and I moved our bedroom to the basement. The girls shared a room upstairs, and our newborn son was given his own room.

For thirteen years, hubby and I slept in the basement. Our basement was crudely made into five different rooms but generally unfinished. The room we chose for our bedroom was large but did not have a door, and we went without a door for years, until we put up a curtain. Oh yeah! Hubby liked our bedroom because it was cold in the basement, and when he had to sleep during the day (after working a night-shift), he found it quite easy. I didn’t mind the basement either, I could still hear the kids when they got out of bed, because the floors squeaked a lot.

By adding a second floor to our house, we gained four new bedrooms, one large bathroom and a wall was knocked down on the first floor making the entire back of the house my kitchen. I lost my first floor linen/pantry/closet because that is where the stairs went. While the addition was being constructed, we continued to live in the house so we were able to monitor all the work. The disadvantage was the noise, the dust, and most of all, was us continually adding new things, like lets replace all the hardwood on the main floor. (A few years later, hubby knocked down the wall separating the last remaining bedroom and the living room, thus doubling the size of the living room).

Well eight years later and our bedroom is finally being painted but only because our waterbed sprung a leak! With the bed emptied, moving it was easy, so the eldest volunteered to paint the room for us, but of course this meant hubby and I would not have anywhere to sleep. He is pretty much sleeping on the futon in the basement, with a quilt hung across the door for some privacy, me, well, I’ve been on the couch in the living room, the spare couch in the basement, and in our daughter’s bed on the weekend. So I’ve been sleeping around and getting pretty tired of it. Hopefully the room will be finished soon, and we can refill the waterbed now that it is patched.

Note: The waterbed leaked only because an old patch had come off. This patch was located on the side of the bed where of course, I tuck  (please refer to last paragraph of 1600 kilometres and karma) in the sheet.