Tag Archives: sleep

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Scree dream

In September, I hike with the three friends in the Ragtag Daily Prompt photograph. I have not really backpacked into back country in years. The last time I carried the pack was in Italy with my daughter, a few years ago. She wanted to plan the trip as we went and stay in hostels. We did.

We hike in the first day, up switchbacks from the parking lot at about 3200 feet, to a pass at 5400 feet, over and down to a campsite. The sites for cooking are separate from the sleeping sites and there are serious big metal bear boxes. We are to put everything in them, including the deet and toothpaste and anything that could possibly interest a bear.

We pack day packs the second day and climb back up to the pass. We peel off there to the trail to Sahalie Glacier. After being on oxygen at sea level for a year and a half, I am beyond delighted that I can actually do this. We go up and up and the trail gets worse and worse, until it is rather nasty scree. Two other people coming down say it is even worse, slippery, unstable, if we go on.

So, like sensible people, we stop for lunch. The slope is very steep and we each find a place to perch. Lunch tastes good. Then the other three want to go on. I don’t. I want a nap. They go on, I find a slab and the view from it is the photograph: down, down, down to the lake far below.

They will get me on the way back down.

And I do go to sleep. It’s all that night time call I’ve taken over years and years. I can sleep practically anywhere, including in a noisy casino in the past. I tuck up against the rock and the sun is almost warm.

I wake up. Two other people have come by. My inner clock thinks my people should have come by. Do I wait? Do I stay? There are more ominous clouds building up and this will be much more slick and dangerous if it starts raining. And we are exposed, for lightening.

Then I see a hat, on a curve of trail below me, moving. I swear it’s one of my party. But how did they go by without seeing me or waking me. THEY ARE DITCHING ME ON THE MOUNTAIN. No, that is ridiculous. Hmm. She is not with either of the guys. I debate for a minute, shout and then grab my things and head down.

I catch her. Once they left me, there really was not a clear trail. There were multiple sort of trails. And it was tricky. They separated a bit. She lost track of the other two and then picked the least difficult way down, which seemed to be a trail. It was NOT the trail that went by me, but she didn’t know that.

We found one of the guys below us, waiting. The last came down a bit later. None of them had come on the “right” trail by me. We headed down and stopped to put on rain gear. It rained lots! We were also above the tree line, but also I would say that we were above the marmot line. We saw eight hoary marmots marmoting around on our way down. They did not seem deterred by rain at all.

So that is how I was left in the scree to dream. I would have returned by the time it started raining anyhow, and the trail was good once we got past the scree. Not all the way to the lake in the photograph, the trail ran along a ridge that is not in the picture and wound down near the lake.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: scree.

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Solo vessel

A duck is a sort of a vessel, isn’t it? Can you nap while floating in the water? I can’t. I hiked part of the Connected Lakes Trail and spoke to a member of the local Audubon Society yesterday. I did not have binoculars but he shared. I used my Panasonic DMC-FZ150, zoomed all the way in. It is still a bit difficult to identify this bird.

Now the pair are both awake. I think they are a female and a male ruddy duck, but it is a touch blurry and abstract. I like the photograph anyhow. The water and ducks and grasses and reflections were so beautiful.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: vessel.

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More bizarre than Sasquatch

Sol Duc and I went for our walk together yesterday. This is a yard across the street, with the grass all pressed down where someone slept recently. Local deer or Sasquatch?

Meanwhile, I think the nearer we get to the election, the more bizarre I find our culture. I don’t suppose Make America Great Again has anything to do with modeling courtesy, kindness, setting a good example, lifting others up. It’s more like the drama of a “reality” show, where all the boring bits of life are edited out and it’s all drama and people getting frustrated with each other and confrontation. And speaking of discourtesies, the other party sent me a text and email, “Earth to Katherine”, wanting more money. I am offended, deleted and blocked that one. What IS this? Are we so addicted to action movies, “reality” shows, drama, violence and video games that our politics imitates them? When will people grow up?

I hardly watch movies or television series any more because honestly, no one on any of them is any more mature than Elmer Fudd. At least Bugs Bunny is funny. And the things “based on a true story”. Right, let’s add some more dramatic moments and more conflict.

I think I would enjoy Sasquatch more.

Thank goodness for my cat.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bizarre.

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If I were your child

Living in a town of 9000, now 10,000, I did not feel that my children needed cell phones. They could walk home from school. It is reasonably safe, though I knew too much about local use of heroin and methamphetamines to believe that anywhere is completely safe.

I spoke to a friend from high school in the early 2000s. He asked me to text him my address.

“I’ve never texted.” I said.

“NEVER?” he said.

“Nope.”

“Haven’t your kids taught you how?”

“My kids don’t have cell phones.”

Long silence. Then: “If I were your child, I would run away.”

I laughed. My son got a cell phone when he headed for college and my daughter got a track phone, ten dollars a month, in high school. Calls and no texting. My son ran away the same way I did, as an exchange student. He went to Thailand at age 16 and was on the Maylay Peninsula, two years after the tsunami hit. His first comment calling home was, “Mom, the world is a really scary place.” Going off to be an exchange student is a fabulous way to run away, because you learn tons and come home.

My daughter had one friend who she would go to sleep over in her teens.

“I don’t want to sleep over any more.” she said after one night.

“Why?” I asked.

“She is up texting and by midnight she and friends are having arguments by phone and she cries. I want to sleep.”

Don’t leave the phone in the kids’ rooms, parents. And don’t have the phone in your bedroom either!!!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: texting. With music: https://youtu.be/hkmZGh9DQZ4.

The photograph is Studt’s Pumpkin Patch and Corn Maze again.

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Bolster my courage

I am having nightmares. About clinic. Yesterday I bolstered my courage and sat down to write my dream out. What are my dreams trying to tell me? Should I extend my contract or not?

I dream that in clinic I have a male patient with his wife in the room. He is very dramatic, saying, “I am so ill, help me, help me.” He says, “I am on quercetin. You have to help me.”

He won’t tell me what his symptoms are, so I respond to what he says: “Who prescribed quercetin? What is your diagnosis?”

“Oh, you don’t want to help me,” he says. His wife just watches.

“Do you have pain somewhere? Any chest pain? Any abdominal pain? Any pain anywhere?”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” he says, “You aren’t listening!”

“I am trying to help you,” I say. “Can we reschedule you for a longer visit?” This is one of the impossible 20 minute ones. Honestly, he doesn’t look like he’s in pain. I do a quick listen to heart and lungs and feel his abdomen.

“No, I need to be in the hospital, I can’t go home!”

“I can’t put you in the hospital without a diagnosis, but we can move you to the emergency room.” Of course, the ER won’t be happy about this.

I leave the room and call the ER. The ER doctor is understandably grumpy, since I have no idea what this is about and am suspecting a psychiatric cause. “Urine drug screen,” I say. “He doesn’t smell drunk. I do not think it’s meth withdrawal.” “Make sure you do a note,” snarls the ER doctor. Good luck, since he won’t answer any questions. “How behind am I?” I ask the nurse. She just rolls her eyes. I probably have at least four or five more on the schedule. I come back to the room. Now two preteens are in the room, looking in the drawers and taking things out. Their parents do nothing to stop them.

“Please sit down now!” I say. “Put that down!”

The teens sullenly comply. The father is moaning. He has the prescriber on his cell phone. He hands it to me. I introduce myself. “What is your diagnosis?” I say. “Why is he on quercetin?” The person at the other end mumbles. “Excuse me, what did you say?” He’s gone. I say to the mother, “Please take the children to the waiting room. Sir, are you requesting that we call 911?” It would be a call saying man moaning, no idea what he’s on about. Vitals are normal, he denies chest pressure or pain, he doesn’t have an acute abdomen, his oxygen level is fine, no fast heart rate, no fever. Drama.

I wake up, thinking that I may have to call 911 to get the wife and kids out and I have to have someone monitor him while I see other patients and we just don’t have enough staff and I am ready to just cancel the rest of the afternoon. If I were in a hospital, I could call security, but we are a satellite small clinic.

So… what the heck is THIS dream about? And do we really get patients like this? Yes, but not often and I haven’t had any like this here. I think it’s funny that this dream has so much detail, down to the supplement that the man is taking as well as the clinic room. I usually work in room 1 and 2, but this was in room 5.

To be continued.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: bolster.



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Marijuana update

https://newsroom.heart.org/news/marijuana-use-linked-with-increased-risk-of-heart-attack-heart-failure

Marijuana is still illegal at the federal level, but some states have legalized it. I agree with legalization but I don’t think of it as benign or safe at all. It’s clear that it can be addictive. A study of teens (with parental consent and where they paid the teens to try to quit for a month) showed that the teens that smoked daily had real trouble stopping, even when quite motivated. The U of WA Pain and Addiction telemedecine said that about half of daily users have “overuse syndrome” and have trouble quitting.

I worked with two people who were trying to quit. The big issues for them in quitting were insomnia and anxiety. Marijuana can suppress both anxiety and help with sleep. However, our brains do not really like that sort of daily interference. The neurons can remove receptors from the cell walls if they are feeling overwhelmed. It is like trying to listen to music with ear plugs. You turn the music up. The drug is the ear plug: when the earplugs are gone, the music is way too loud. We can’t really “turn the music down”, so it is not much fun letting the neurons recover.

With the edibles and THC vs the other one, it’s even more confusing. I had many patients taking edibles or tinctures to sleep. Some said, “Oh, it’s CBD, so it doesn’t make me high. So it is not addictive.” We do not know it that is true. With opioids, people can have opioid overuse syndrome without ever getting high, just from being on pain medicine as directed. And marijuana does not have only CBD and THC. There are over 300 different cannabinoids in the plants, and CBD and THC are just two of them. I have no idea if the edibles and tinctures have the other 298 or more and what they do to the cannibinoid receptors in our brains alone or in combination.

I don’t want to have any overuse syndrome: alcohol, opioids, gambling, marijuana, whatever. I know I can get off caffeine in 24 hours, though it involves an awful headache. I am nearly off coffee now, because my body only likes coffee when I have pneumonia. I quit coffee from 2014 to 2021 and now am quitting again.

The two studies in the article look at people who do not smoke tobacco and who are using marijuana. They are seeing an significant increase in heart disease, heart attacks, sudden death and congestive heart failure. Congestive heart failure is pump failure, where the heart does not pump correctly. This is a major problem, as you might guess.

Be careful out there.

I took the photograph at Fort Worden last week on a day where both the wind and the tide were howling.

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Telegraph

Sol Duc’s posture telegraphs her thoughts. “Where have you been? This is past your bedtime/curfew. I don’t like that and I disapprove.”

“But Sol Duc, I was listening to a band, and it’s only 9 pm. My muscles are feeling better! I am not sleeping twelve hours a night.”

Elwha: “Mom, I was asleep. Why are you out? Sleeping twelve hours is nothing! I can sleep for twenty!”

Me: “Ok, ok, I am home. I am going to bed!”

Body language can say so much! For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: muscle.

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Perchance to dream

I have been dreaming regularly since mid-January, nightmares. The cause is my sleep apnea machine. I got it in December, but two days before I flew east to my son’s for Christmas. I did not take it with me. I delayed getting back for nine days to visit an ill friend in Michigan and help out. On January 11, I took the class on how to use the machine.

My initial “mask” was the “nasal pillow” one. I go to sleep by slowing my breathing and using the Zen Buddhist and Jon Kabat Zinn’s body scan to relax. However, if I slow my breathing, the CPAP will start to blow pressure when my breath out drops below a certain volume. Then I was breathing against pressure and it woke me up. Also I would sometimes open my mouth, which lets the air out and the machine instantly increases pressure and is much noisier.

I got another mask within ten days. This is a face mask. It did not have one strap around the head, but four. The hose is attached to the top of the head. The main pressure point is where the four straps meet right at the back of the skull.

The dreams started. Nightmares every single night. About being trapped and trying to escape. An octopus grabbing me by the skull. One dream about trying to rescue a man from a building that was under attack or going to blow up and he kept saying, “But I’m not READY. I have to PACK.” I’m arguing, “You can get more stuff! We have to go! We’ll get killed if we stay! Come on, I am here to rescue you.” He keeps looking for his stuff because he can’t believe that a 5 foot 4 female could actually be a heroine and there to rescue me. Dumb male. I wake up and laugh. Even men in my dreams have little respect for me. That is a pretty sad illustration of my lifetime experience with the other gender.

Anyhow, to have the insurance pay for the stupid sleep apnea machine, I needed 21 out of 30 days with more than 4 hours on the machine. And I have to do this within 3 months of getting the machine. I got it in December, remember? So I was motivated and hella grumpy with it. At least twice a night I would wake up from a nightmare and rip the darn thing off my head. The cats do not like it when it hisses.

I took to using it during naps too. Since I was NOT sleeping well on it, I was sleeping longer. Nine or ten hours a night, at least three or four OFF the machine. Pretty pathetic.

Last week I had my visit where I am blessed and the insurance will now pay for the machine. I begged a little to talk to the mask guy. They said no at first and then yes. He gave me another octopus headdress. This one also goes around the back of the skull, but the hose is hanging from the front. That means the weight is more in front.

It still took three or four days before I got to four hours on the new one. It works better and I am not dreaming about escape rooms twice a night. Phew!

The interview to have the machine paid for was pretty amusing. The insurance wants me to say I am sleeping better to qualify for the machine. I answered that I was sleeping longer. There are a bunch of questions. Mostly I could be positive except for the “are you waking up less?” “No, more.” “More? Why?” “Because the octopus has me by the head or I am dreaming I am trapped.” I had the nurse laughing at my answers, but I still qualified.

Anyhow, if I can invent a different mask that doesn’t feel like an octopus, I could probably be a gadzillionaire. I think I will look at some bondage stores, seems like they have various masks that could be adapted. Then they could do double duty and I will be a double gadzillionaire!

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For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: dreams.