I don't know what I was thinking. The boy was not feeling well and I let him sleep in my bed last night anyway. This is the time when he should be sleeping in his own bed, though it is difficult to tell him that when he's already being kicked around by a virus. So, I had no sleep at all. All night he was kicking me in my side and repositioning his feet, specifically his heels, unexpectedly onto my abdomen or worse. Combine that with the fact that I already did not feel well at all, and voila.
I eventually set up a system of pillows and repositioned on my side with my back facing him so that I had some modicum of defense against his siesta-krieg. A night without rest helps nothing at all. Tonight he will need to sleep in his own bed and I will narcoticize myself into a deep slumber where no four year old karate boy can reach me. Well no, perhaps not quite that lost to the world, but as close as over the counter elixirs can bring me.
I have self-diagnosed again. This time it is an ulcer. My abdomen, the one that was being kicked all night, has a very bad feeling in it. It has lasted for days and is exacerbated by nearly everything I do. I can neither eat, drink, nor be merry. The lack of sleep has produced a gargantuan headache and the stomach prevents me from taking anything to help it.
I need a witch. Nothing else can reach the demons at this point, a temptress. Only the voice of wickedness can negotiate with my infirmities now.
.
