Saturday, January 19, 2013

"That which does not kill us...makes us stronger."
Friedrich Nietzsche. 

We've all heard Nietzsche's quote before. It's usually one of those motivational posters you see painted as a mural in locker rooms or on the t-shirts worn by counselors at a fat camp. 
I saw those words one time on a button worn by my doctor. I noticed them right before he checked my prostate. 
I'm assuming that for the most part, it's true. 
Nietzsche is basically saying that once you over come adversity, you become a better...stronger person. I'd say that's true for about 90% of the population. The other 10% become bitter, angry assholes who immediately want to hire a lawyer and sue somebody. 
Let's give Nietzsche the benefit of the doubt, though. It is a beautiful sentiment and I certainly hope this is true for me. 
Right now I don't feel stronger. 
I feel tired and beat down. 
The pain is ever-present now. It's like an ugly pair of shoes I can't take off...with me at every clumsy step...catching on stairs and curbs and bed sheets and...shit. I fee like my right leg has been taken over by a drunk and narcoleptic alien. 
I don't think I have ever been more tired. 
I'm just not sleeping. I'm averaging about two or three hours a night now. It's getting so bad I'm actually looking forward to being the hospital and hooked to an IV full of sleepy-time medicine. 
The main problem is getting into a position that's comfortable. 
I've tried every possible position but none seem to work.
I've tried the 'Flat On My Back.' 
This doesn't work because I can't put pressure on the back of my head. 
I also tend to snore louder when I'm on my back which is no fun for anyone in a three block radius. 
I've tried the 'On My Side To The Left' the 'On My Side To The Right' the 'On My Side With A Pillow Between My Legs' and 'The Two Eggs Over Easy With A Side of Bacon.'
I've laid like a baby with my head down and my butt in the air which is not nearly as comfortable as I remember. It's also not the same unless you're wearing cute little footie pajamas. This position is known in sleep terminology as either 'The Wide Receiver' or the 'Thar She Blows.' I guess it all depends on what you ate before you went to bed.
I've tried The 'Fetal Position' but I can't get comfortable soaked in amniotic fluid. I've laid flat on my back with my legs raised high in the air by a stack of pillows, known as 'Seeing The Lady Doctor,' but inevitably the pillows topple and my legs come crashing down.
No matter what position I try, though, I can't get comfortable and can't get to sleep. 
I like sleep. I love sleep. Sleep is good. 
I love those mornings after a good night's sleep when you wake up feeling like Superman, able to leap buildings in a single bound. When I sleep between six and seven hours, I feel like I can take on the world. I feel like Gene Kelly and just want to dance everywhere I go.
These days I'm more Walking Dead then Singing In The Rain though. 
The other day I caught myself about to put my cell phone in the toaster.
Can you hear me now? 
No. No I can't. Not over the smoke alarm. 
There have been far too many days when I've worn my t-shirts or sweaters inside out or backwards. If you talk to my wife, however, she'll probably tell you this has nothing to do with sleep of the lack thereof. I'm just an idiot sometimes. 
Surgery is in three days now. 
I figure that Monday night will be the best night's sleep I've had in weeks. That is, unless they wake me up every forty minutes to see how I'm feeling. 

and that's 'Jody' with a 'y'
All rights Reserved. 
Copyright 2013. 

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