I’m not as young as I used to be.
This profound thought is brought to you by last night’s sleep deprivation.
Two nights ago, N woke up in pain that was severe enough that he didn’t feel he could swallow liquid Tylenol. In an effort to avoid a repeat performance, last night I set an alarm for myself to wake up when his next dose of Advil was due… at 12:30 a.m.
(Yes, I know some people don’t even go to sleep until then. But it’s two and a half hours past my usual bedtime.)
I wanted to stay on top of the pain, though, so I woke him up to take his medicine. As soon as his eyes popped open, he started crying violently. It already hurt too badly to swallow; I ran downstairs to get the prescription pain meds, which are concentrated enough that we can just squirt a dose under his tongue and wait for it to take effect. In the meantime, K, who had woken up, sat with N and rubbed his back until I returned with the drugs.
Long story short: after fifteen minutes it kicked in. I then gave him his Advil, which he could finally swallow, and his Tylenol, which he was due for any minute. I stayed with him until he fell asleep and then retired to my bed.
I awoke to loud crying at 2:30 (less than an hour and a half after I got back to bed.) He was in pain, but it wasn’t his throat: he had terrible air pains in his belly. My best guess is that he swallowed a whole lot of air during all the crying, and it was making itself known. I lay down next to him and rubbed his belly until he was asleep.
I must have dozed a bit. When I opened my eyes it was 4:30 and N was asleep. I crawled back to my room and got into bed. Less than four hours later I was nudged awake by N, asking if it was time for more medicine yet (it was past time, actually.) I staggered to the bathroom and gave him his medicine. Then I lay down again and pretended it wasn’t morning yet. At 8:40 I gave in to obligation and got up to join everyone else for the school day.
It was an exercise in grit, which I hope the kids will remember, but which I’m certain they won’t. I worked with them on their writing project; I worked on some of my own projects; I drove K to the orthodontist. By the time we got back I was beyond exhausted, and excused myself to go nap.
I woke up in time for Shabbat dinner, a bit rested but not feeling especially good. Now I’m counting down to bedtime, which feels like it should be now, but somehow is still a couple of hours away. Wake me up when it’s time for more meds, mmkay?