A Rude Awakening

Because of sleep apnea, I'm supposed to sleep with a machine. I've had little luck in finding a mask that works (for those of you with sleep apnea, you know what I mean; if you don't, it's too boring to go into). Needless to say, I don't get great sleep, like I've mentioned before. Well, now that I have this never-ending cough and cold, I can't use the mask anyway and so I'm getting little sleep between the coughing and the oxygen deprivation. Sometimes I feel like I hover all night just on the edges of sleep; other times I feel like I'm unconscious and have no memory of anything in the times that I'm asleep. It was this kind of unconscious sleep I was in the other night, apparently, when I had the rudest of awakenings. While asleep, I must've decided I needed a drink of water, but at some point from the side table to my mouth, my brain must've fallen back asleep and forgotten about the whole drink thing. This is my guess. Because the next thing I know, I'm leaping out of bed, drenched in water, with a fairly small lake gathering underneath me. I was holding the empty glass, so I couldn't really blame it on anyone else. I yelped a warning to my husband and we gathered up the bedding and were able to get it up before the lake hit the mattress. I was fairly soaked and the bedding was a goner, so we got to change the sheets in the middle of the night. Such fun.

Now when I go to sleep, I eye my glass of water suspiciously, I check to make sure there are no sharp objects near me---nothing that could unknowingly become a weapon or something---and I wonder what the night will bring.