Good morning. It's 6:30 and I've been awake since 4:11. Secondary insomnia, they call it. Yes, it has a real name. It's when you wake up after sleeping for a few hours, and can't go back to sleep. This time, I have one of the neighborhood raccoons to thank for my dilemma.
I had fallen asleep on the couch after watching a few of the original Star Trek episodes on BlueRay. Spock actually looks green. You can really see how low tech the sets and effects are, but that doesn't matter to a true Trekkie. You watch because you love it. Simpler technology from a simpler time. Television wasn't even fifty years old when the series was made.
Any way, I woke up suddenly and didn't know why, but something wasn't right. Adam had a bad time right before bed, with a violent, screaming headache. It's part of the healing process for him as his body adapts to the new shunt system, but it's really awful. He screams in pain until the valve opens and drains the extra fluid from his brain, and there's nothing I can do to help him. I pray, and hold him if he lets me. I press on his forehead when he wants that, and I keep him from lying down, because that makes the pressure worse. After a while, the valve opens and he stops screaming. He usually goes right to sleep after one of these episodes, no matter what time of day it is. Last night he stayed awake for a while and talked with me. He held my hand for a bit longer than that, and finally went to sleep. When I woke up so suddenly, I thought he was having a problem again, but he was peacefully sleeping.
I checked around for cats getting into mischief, but I knew it wasn't them. It was outside. I looked out front and there was an unusual light shining from down the street somewhere and onto the porch, so I turned the light on to let anyone around know that someone was up and not to bother looking for trouble over here. I went back around to the kitchen and turned on the light by that door too. I was a little bit unnerved by this time, and I knew something was out there.
I needn't have worried, because it was just one of the neighborhood raccoons paying a visit to my garbage can. These guys not only take the cover off and dine alfresco, sitting right in the can sometimes, but they bring their take out onto the deck and relax there while they enjoy their chicken bones and other leftovers. There was only one this morning, a big one. I'd guesstimate him to be about twenty pounds. We have some bigger and some smaller, and there are often three together, but he must have decided not to share this time. I watched him for a few minutes, and the Midnight the cat came over to investigate. Roger the raccoon didn't appreciate the additional audience, and he left. He was finished eating any way. And he didn't leave a tip.
I had fallen asleep on the couch after watching a few of the original Star Trek episodes on BlueRay. Spock actually looks green. You can really see how low tech the sets and effects are, but that doesn't matter to a true Trekkie. You watch because you love it. Simpler technology from a simpler time. Television wasn't even fifty years old when the series was made.
Any way, I woke up suddenly and didn't know why, but something wasn't right. Adam had a bad time right before bed, with a violent, screaming headache. It's part of the healing process for him as his body adapts to the new shunt system, but it's really awful. He screams in pain until the valve opens and drains the extra fluid from his brain, and there's nothing I can do to help him. I pray, and hold him if he lets me. I press on his forehead when he wants that, and I keep him from lying down, because that makes the pressure worse. After a while, the valve opens and he stops screaming. He usually goes right to sleep after one of these episodes, no matter what time of day it is. Last night he stayed awake for a while and talked with me. He held my hand for a bit longer than that, and finally went to sleep. When I woke up so suddenly, I thought he was having a problem again, but he was peacefully sleeping.
I checked around for cats getting into mischief, but I knew it wasn't them. It was outside. I looked out front and there was an unusual light shining from down the street somewhere and onto the porch, so I turned the light on to let anyone around know that someone was up and not to bother looking for trouble over here. I went back around to the kitchen and turned on the light by that door too. I was a little bit unnerved by this time, and I knew something was out there.
I needn't have worried, because it was just one of the neighborhood raccoons paying a visit to my garbage can. These guys not only take the cover off and dine alfresco, sitting right in the can sometimes, but they bring their take out onto the deck and relax there while they enjoy their chicken bones and other leftovers. There was only one this morning, a big one. I'd guesstimate him to be about twenty pounds. We have some bigger and some smaller, and there are often three together, but he must have decided not to share this time. I watched him for a few minutes, and the Midnight the cat came over to investigate. Roger the raccoon didn't appreciate the additional audience, and he left. He was finished eating any way. And he didn't leave a tip.
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