With the advent of our aging bodies, my partner and I are constantly challenged by our ability to go to sleep. I’ve always had nightmares which interrupted my sleep. But with an aging painful body and various real and imagined injuries falling to sleep is a nightly battle.
I’ve tried a variety of things like reading, listening to music, meditating, ocean, rain, and water sounds. Timing my medication like a pilot preparing their plane to lift off. All in an effort to get into that zone where sleep overtakes me naturally like a gentle blanket.
Often, the blanket is scratchy, too heavy or too light. It seems to have crawling bugs and nerve biting things. Even if the temperature is just right, something is wrong.
I prefer to sleep on my side. I can’t sleep on my right side because of a 40 year old shoulder injury from throwing a baseball too hard and too long. Youthful idiocy with no medical treatment. I fell in 2014 so I usually can’t sleep on my left shoulder. I blame the dog because she was threatening the UPS delivery person at the time. When my sports medicine doc gives me a cortisone shot in one of my shoulders, side sleeping is okay again for a month or two.
If I lay on my back, I get extreme lower back pain. Really?! I often fall asleep in the living room in my zero gravity chair which takes the pressure off my back, shoulders, and legs. After many years, I found a leg pillow to elevate my legs in the bed. It almost mirrors the zero gravity chair but not quite. So, it’s 50/50 whether I can fall asleep in the bed.
I now understand why seniors are notorious nappers. We can’t sleep at night. It’s a stopgap to keep us more or less conscious most of the day.
Ronnie likes to read in bed. After struggling for years to get her to turn the light off, I finally discovered the perfect eye mask. No, not an iMask. Rather, a mask to cover my eyes at night. Still, I would imagine that I could see the light around the edges. Then, to my astonishment, I discovered that if I put the covers over my head with the mask on and feel the darkness when I pull the covers away I still feel it’s dark. I haven’t even told Ronnie this. It’s just too weird. So, no light is leaking. It’s just a mental thing.
Because of muscle soreness and nerve twinges, we have a plethora of creams and lotions. For a while, Ronnie had one spot on her foot that drove her crazy and she tried duct tape. It’s supposed to fix everything. It worked. It also made her foot sticky. I have neuropathy in my feet and legs. I’ve discovered that ace bandages wrapped around my feet and up my legs a bit alleviate my discomfort enough to often fall asleep.
The bed is about three inches too high for Ronnie so there is a little jump and landing in the bed. A jarring experience if I am already in bed nearing the magic sleep zone. I’ve always thought of it as an enchanting acrobatic act. It’s the timing that’s not always right.
It takes us both several minutes to get our pillows arranged properly to support our aches and pains. If she’s waiting for me, I tell her to turn off the light. I can do all this stuff in the dark.
As for cuddling in that way we did with our young bodies, that is out. Occasionally, one of us braves discomfort for a few minutes to do a bit of cuddling. The rest of the time, after we’re properly placed, we hold hands until one or both falls asleep. Hand holding is more sensuous than I realized. It’s far better than risking injury. If we do go for a sexual act and accidentally hit our heads, my philosophy is that it’s okay as long as no one loses consciousness.
How lovely. Senior love. Good night, my dear.
Joceile
3.23.19
[Picture of bed with several different pillow configurations.]
