When I'm in Here...

Peggy’s prompt for April 4, 2009—20 minutes. “When I’m in here”

I’m in my bed—again. I’m in my bed a lot. Usually when I’m in here I’m nesting, except on the rare, bad times when I’m sick. But usually my bed is my refuge. I have my special mattress (memory foam), my pillows for backrest and to support under my knees, the recent issues of Newsweek, The New Yorker, and Vanity Fair—my current subscriptions, a selection of fiction and non-fiction books from the library and sometime brochures and newsletters that come in the mail. I have my nightly bedtime pills, a glass of water, my alarm clock (which I rarely set, but have to use during the night to check the time because I can no longer see across the room to the large-numeral-lighted-face electric clock. I have my assortment of wraps and special sleeves to apply to my lymphedema arm and hand. Plus assorted lotions, potions, and pills for things that ail me at various times. One or two or sometimes all three of my cats usually have found a spot to lie down on the bed—usually in a spot inconvenient for me, but perfect for them. Am I the operational definition of an old lady or what?

There was a time before I retired when I didn’t have much time in bed in the evening before I went to sleep, so on Sundays I’d get up early, fix my peanut butter toast and coffee, retrieve the three Sunday papers from the porch—the Galveston County Daily News, the Houston Chronicle, and the New York Times—go back to bed with all of it and make a morning of it. But now that I’m retired, I’ve developed this protracted transition from day activities to nightly sleep, and have dropped the Sunday ritual.

The one thing I used to do in bed at night and don’t do any more is……………..eat! Aha, caught you, didn’t I? I gave up eating after dinner a long time ago, so the chips, crackers, cookies, and especially my chocolates aren’t even bought anymore. And when I first quit the evening snacking, I did lose weight. But now the fat stays glued to my skeleton no matter that I’ve given up my snacks.

But when I’m in here, in this bed, with all my gear and my cats around me, I feel safe, I feel secure. I feel comfortable. I’m not thinking about what to do next; my day is done as far as chores go. Tomorrow is still a whole night away, and I am in here, nesting. Cluck, cluck to everyone.