Darth Vader vs The Predator... In Shawn's Sinuses

The next night I lay in bed wide wake around 2 am. Shawn and his Sinuses were dueling it out. I swear to you it sounded exactly like a cross between Darth Vader and The Predator when he make that "gah-gah-guh-guh" noise. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go rent the movie.

In the middle of all this was a high pitched wheeze, like a train whistle going off. It was contained in the cavity of Shawn's nose.

Why was it that I can't sleep?

I felt bad for waking him up the previous night so I resolved to not even touch him. I lay there forever listening to Vader sucumb to the Predator's antics. I looked at the clock. The alarm was going to go off in 2 hours and I started to cry.

No, cry is too simple a word. I was sobbing. I sat up on the edge of the bed and cried so hard the bed was shaking back and forth. I felt Shawn's hand on my back. "Baby, what's wrong?" he asked with real concern.

"Nothing, go back to sleep, Shawn," I answered. He asked again. "I'm never going to sleep!! Ever!!" I cried. He tried his best to comfort me. I got some tissue and finally got to sleep for about an hour.

Friday morning I woke up with the small of back very sore. It hurt to turn and it hurt when Shawn hugged me goodbye. By midmorning, I could hardly bend down. I was miserable!! For my job requires me to bend down constantly to retrieve the dark load from the floor, to reach into my basket, to grab a clean rag from underneath my work space.

Sigh. I didn't want anyone to know. I was afraid they might think I did this at work when i didn't. The only thing I could trace this pain back to was Wednesday afternoon. I was bringing in some 12 packs of soda from the car. Half way to the kitchen, the stack was slipping. I didn't want to drop 4 cartons of soda so I carried the weight in my back till I made it to the cupboard. I bent down close to the floor and let the boxes slide from my grip.

And now I was paying for it.

When I got home, i stupidly spent 2 hours on the computer instead of lying back. I threw a frozen pizza in the oven and called it supper. I told Shawn about my pain as soon as he got home. "Don't tackle me or anything," I said. "Please, be gentle."

I was mixing some of that pink strawberry powder into a glass of milk and I dropped the lid on the floor. I just looked at it like it was the biggest challenge I'd ever faced in my life. Shawn, so sweer and caring, stooped down and picked up the lid.

I laughed, "I thought it might just stay there on the floor forever!"

Later that night, Shawn asked me if I thought the bed might have hurt my back. His mom had an old waterbed frame that she recently gave us. We threw some plywood on it and layed the matress on top. Adding the boxspring made it too tall for me so we nixed it.

The bed has never been so comfortable. The matress is at least, a bare minimum, 15 years old (no one really knows how old it is) The plywood made the bed firm again and really helped both of our backs.

Anyway, Shawn asked if the bed might've hurt my back. In all seriousness I answered, "No. No, I don't think so. The bed's never sounded like Vader and the Predator. It's always been real quiet except for the occasional creek and squeak. No, I don't think it's the bed."

Shawn laughed his butt off and said he was sorry for snoring.

Last night I found some Vikoden left over from when I had pneumonia last year. Pay dirt! I'd be sleeping again!

How wrong I was. Same old story. Asleep at 9, awake at 2. His snoring was driving me to insanity. I mean that, honestly. I was going insane. I lay there for an hour thinking about going to the couch.

No! The couch was small and uncomfortable. Why should I be forced out of my warm, soft bed? That wasn't fair! I resolved to getting up. It was over, I was awake now. I let the dog out of the kitchen and returned to the master bath to putin my contact lenses and brush my teeth. The dog followed me and I tried to keep her from waking Shawn.

"Are you up because of me?" he asked in a half-asleep stuper. "No, baby," I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Am I sure?! What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to say?

I called the dog to come away from the bed. "She can come up here if she wants to," Shawn murmured. I hated to let her do that because she thought it was time to get up. Every morning she patiently waits for me to get Shawn. Once I head to the bedroom door, the dog will bound into the bed and pounce on Shawn. She only weighs 8 pounds but she wants to get him up and play, and that's enough to wake him up.

I finished up in the bathroom and called the dog. "Are you up because of me?" Shawn asked again. "No baby, go back to sleep," I said.
"Are you sure?" he asked.

Yes. I'm sure. Sure that I'll never sleep again as long as I live. At least it's Saturday. Maybe I can take a nap later.