When I came home from the hospital a few weeks back, all I could think about was sleep. Sleep without being interrupted by a nurse who wanted to take my blood pressure or a technician from the lab who wanted a sample of my blood.
At that time I probably slept twelve to sixteen hours a day, waking up only to roll over and return to Dreamland. Or eat something. I felt entitled to be a slug, since I’d been hit by the virtual surgical Mack truck. Besides, I was told sleep enhances the healing process, and I accepted this as irrefutable truth.
Yet when I’m “healed,” if I want to have enough hours in the day to do the things I enjoy, I’m going to have to cut down on sleeping. It’s true some of this is happening naturally as I gain strength and stamina. Last night, for instance, I slept only nine and a half hours; and today I took only a forty-five minute naps. Which adds to a little over ten hours of sleep in a 24 hour period.
My first goal is to sleep ten hours or less a day. It doesn’t matter how it’s apportioned between night rest and nap. It will be a milestone. My second goal is to do this consecutively for several days. Then I’ll know I’m heading in the right direction.
For me, a perfect ten has nothing to do with a gymnastic competition or Bo Derek’s body a few decades back. Or even a special manicure. It’s all about staying awake.
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