On Sleep and Medics

Well, here goes nothing ...

It's well past midnight, but my sleep has taken a bad turn lately. Sometimes it does that — goes from not being good to being distinctly bad. Tonight, for example, I stumbled wearily to bed at ten o'clock. I almost went to sleep; in fact, I drifted off for a few minutes. I know it was only that long because I had some music playing, and I missed one short tune. After lying there for an hour and a half, however, I gave it up for a lost cause. I think what happens is that I drift and rest just enough to feel sufficiently refreshed to get up and do something or other for awhile before I try again.

It's most frustrating let me tell you. In my life, I have tended to be a guy who requires perhaps a little more sleep than average. Now, I get too much less than average. It's getting on my nerves.

So here I sit with a headache after completing a crossword puzzle and munching on a bowl of cornflakes. When the pills begin to take effect, I'll try again. Maybe I'll try the couch; sometimes I settle there. I have no idea why as generally I feel the need to sprawl, and one cannot exactly sprawl on a couch.

Well anyway, let me tell you about the highlight of my week, which once I tell it, you will rather pity me for having such an uneventful life.

You see, on Monday morning, I had an appointment at the Eye Institute near downtown Ottawa. Thinking I was clever, I decided to take the backroads in and avoid rush hour congestion on the expressway. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but in practice it was anything but, for once we neared the city, the congestion on the backroads was worse than it ever would have been on the expressway — much worse. Sigh.

I had set aside more than an hour and a half for the trip which should normally have taken less than an hour. And I was actually a few minutes late. Not that hospitals tend to run on standard time, but still it rather unnerved me.

But here's the highlight. The doctor. Once he got around to seeing me, he introduced himself and shook my hand. Can you believe a doctor shaking your hand: treating you with respect and consideration? When we parted, he offered his hand once again. Wow! I mean WOW!

Between handshakes, he didn't rush me and patiently clarified a point that had confused me a little.

After such positive treatment, I came out of there feeling good about the world.

I have since mused that the time difference between a doctor rushing you and not rushing you is probably less than a minute.

This guy should be training young medical students in client management.

That's my highlight.

It's been a dull week.