2 years ago
By Alison Piepmeier
Hurray that two solid years have passed since the surgery. And perhaps an even bigger hurray that the anniversary itself has passed, because I think my body in some primordial way had identified the slant of the sun, the season, whatever, and knew that some bad stuff went down at this time a couple of years back, so it has gone into alert mode.
Part of that primordial warning system has meant that, as I told my friend Meg, "Every single sound in the city of Charleston wakes me up, from the gentle squeak of Biffle's nose to the trains past East Bay." I have not been sleeping well. Then yesterday I had the good fortune to be having brunch with another friend, Marguerite, who mentioned how much she relies on her ear plugs for good sleeping. She says she buys the mega-pack from the Rite Aid.
"Hmmm," thought I, "perhaps this would work."
Maybelle and I made a trip to the Rite Aid yesterday afternoon and with hopeful good will bought a mega-pack. I used them last night. I couldn't hear a thing. Not the clickety-clickety of Gabe trotting through the house at night, not Maybelle's sigh as she rolls over in her sleep, not Biffle's footsteps as he quietly comes home from a gig. Nothing. I slept seven hours and twenty minutes, friends. That is a big deal for me these days. I mean, I woke up a few times, but I was able to go right back to sleep.
Perhaps we've turned a corner.