Up uncharacteristically early this morning, due to a lovely 10 hour sleep. If sleeping were an Olympic sport, I'd be a multiple gold medal winner. Even Small Dog, who is an enthusiastic napper, has to defer to my capacity for slumber.
Pre-MS I used to bound out of bed at 7am, ready to tackle the day, even after less than 6 hours sleep. Nowadays, I need a minimum of 8 hours, preferably 10, and up to 12 on a weekend. Even then, I rarely wake full of the joys of spring. I need a good 10-15 minutes of preparation before I get vertical, doing a mental inventory of which body parts are hurting/numb/tingling/twitching/responding to command. On a good day, only a small number of extremities will call in sick. On a bad day I'm as well to just turn over, cosy down and go back to sleep.
If I've had a late night, or a string of late nights, I have to pay the price which MS demands, in order to regain nominal power over my body. So sleep is a vitally important commodity to me, and not to be taken lightly.
Especially the lack therof.
Which is why I feel for PP who is undergoing a (hopefully temporary) bout of insomnia. I have a fleeting acquaintance with this, when neuropathic pain wakes me. However I am usually confident that the heavy duty meds which help control the pain, will send me back to sleep within the hour.
PP's insomnia may well be caused by a cocktail of meds she's currently taking for a shoulder problem, but whatever the cause, the nightly lack of sleep is taking its toll. She's trying all sorts of remedies, short of actual sleeping tablets, to overcome the problem. Herbal 'night calming' pills, milky drinks at bedtime, reading several chapters of a book, assorted configurations of pillows, innovative sleeping positions......all to no avail.
I know she had a bad night last night so I won't wake her. Small Dog is curled up beside her, sleeping soundly in solidarity and didn't even budge when I checked on them earlier.