Zombie
18 Dec
Today I am a zombie. Not the sort that would eat your face like an overly ripened red delicious, but the kind that found himself sitting at his desk this morning and can’t remember how he got here.
About three years ago I bought my wife a puppy for her birthday. I made this purchase not only to provide her with a perfect Hallmark birthday moment, but also because I could hear the baby train off in the distance getting closer and closer with each passing day. I still had a list of things to accomplish and like many men; I assumed my life would come to an end as I became a father. The dog was… well…you know…a pacifier of sorts.
Over the years this animal has become a member of our family. We have a perfect little son and a slightly hairier daughter. Last night Lucy, our dog, was very sick. I rushed her to the emergency veterinarian just before midnight. The details of her illness are not important, let’s just say its nothing you’d enjoy looking at while munchin’ on dinner.
Several hours later I returned home worn out and a few hundred dollars lighter. As I closed the front door, Lucy stumbled to her bed exhausted from the ordeal. I turned the bolt on the lock, and my son began to stir. That was it, no more sweet dreams for him or me. He’s been teething and last night was a rough one for him. He couldn’t pull together more than an hour or two of rest and was very vocal about his discomfort.
Dog vomit, crying, screaming, scratches at the door, howling, blood, and dirty diapers; its pretty close to the worst horror flick I’ve ever seen. Needless to say, getting sleep was an issue for all of us and that’s why now we are a family of walking zombies.
The undead have a single purpose. They are compelled to consume the flesh of the living. Similarly, I have a single function; to get sleep. I will attack any bed, futon, or lazy boy with a viciousness reserved for the most shocking of films. Unfortunately, I’ve seen enough of these silly movies to know that just as a zombie gets inches from fulfilling its purpose, it is typically killed in the most fantastic manner imaginable. So, even when I do finally get a chance to sleep, it will be with one eye open.
I remember those days. For the first six months I slept on the living room floor. That was the only way to make sure I got some sleep. My daughter pretty much nursed non stop. One night I wake up and the left side of my body is nearly completely paralyzed. My arm just flopped around and I felt tingly from the top left side of my skull to my left toe. I was a bit scared. After about an hour I could move fairly normally but I was still numb and I felt lopsided.
I went to the doctor in the morning. No stroke. He knew for sure because the numbness would have switched at the neck and then effected the right side of the head. It’s the way the nerves are wired.
I told him I had been sleeping on the floor for six months. “Ahhhh, well that explains a lot. I see fathers like you all the time. It’s pretty common for your body to get all out of whack from lack of sleep and sleeping in weird places.”
So there you go.
I think worrying about the health and safety of your child is the only thing more intense than realizing you’re own frailty. I never used to worry about my health or think twice if my hart skipped a beat. Now days, every goofy ache or feeling is worth a second look! Thanks for the comment Straight Dope! Glad it wasn’t a stroke!