R.E.S.T

My Dad and I were recently talking about some recent studies that suggested that if you don’t get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep a night that you increase your risk of early death by eighty percent. Wow, I can’t remember the last time I got eight hours of sleep in a night, much less uninterrupted. I’m quite sure this study was written by a thirty-something millennial that hasn’t worked a normal blue-collar job in their life. Not just blue-collar, how about all those professional employees that work the occasional shift at night. Dad and I did our normal early morning resolution to this notion and came up with the fact that this person didn’t take into account the best thing in life, the senior’s best friend, you know! Our afternoon naps.

 Surely, naps would be an additive lifespan factor and account for at least ten more years to normal routine lifestyle. I can’t remember the last time I sleep eight hours uninterrupted. Heck, I would struggle to find a night that had six hours without me making a 3:00 A.M. stumble, bitch, and groan trip to the bathroom. Followed by ten minutes of winding down from the stroll in the dark. At least five minutes are needed to lay down and find a position that my back likes, and finally putting my CPAP headgear back on and get my breathing in rhythm with the machine. This effort, all to get another two or so hours of sleep. We started going to bed at 9:00 P.M. a couple of years ago, but adding it all up, I still fall short of the good night’s sleep by at least an hour. If I slept another hour, it would significantly cut into my-problem-solving-over-coffee time with Dad and that would be unacceptable as this is my favorite time with Dad.

I think about all the many years, twenty plus, that I worked shiftwork. Heck, half of that time I worked a 2-2-1 schedule, meaning 2 Swings, 2 Days, and 1 mid. That’s two eight-hour quick turn-arounds in a work week. I probably knocked off more years than I want to acknowledge on my lifespan and is more than likely the reason that I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, but still only able to eke out six or seven hours a day asleep. I recently fell asleep on the doctor’s exam table waiting on the nurse to come back and give me a shot. I remember when Cortney had nightly dance classes, I would sleep in the parking lot. The way I looked at it, if I drove home and came back later to pick her up, that I would be giving up valuable time of power napping.

I think it is conditioned in me now and it’s not necessarily the need for sleep like when working shiftwork, but more a brain wind-down from the massive amount of brain activity that takes place in daily comings and goings. My biggest brain activities being such things as trying to remember where I left my keys. What am I going to do today? Am I taking enough fiber? Do the cars have enough gas? When did I take the dog out last? Did I eat lunch yet, wait did I eat breakfast? Did I take my morning pills? Should I mow today or tomorrow? What’s the weather going to be like next week? Why do the weathermen only give me two weeks of predictive weather? What should I write about next? Why can’t I get started on my children’s book? Do I only want to write a children’s book because writing a full-length novel seems like a lot of work and too much to keep in order? Did I have a bowel movement today? Don’t laugh, this is a big deal when you get older. Did I check the calendar for today? These are very important things for a retired guy with lots of STUFF to take care of. In other words, my mind is in full motion resolving time-management issues as part of my daily routine.

Sleep…when you are sixty plus years old, it comes at a premium as everything seems to come as a premium now. My brother-in-law told me that he now thinks in terms of something either being the last one ever to buy or not. I laugh because he is in his seventies, his dad lived to 99 and his mom is still alive at 104. Way too early to think like that based on his genetic makeup. He never smoked, drank very little, didn’t abuse his body, and still works to keep himself active. Me, I drank too much, smoked for thirty years, ate way too much, played abusive sports and treated my body like I was going to slide into the casket screaming what a friggin life! For now, I’m yawning, it’s the middle of the afternoon, college baseball is coming on (the ultimate sedative), and I’m thinking under my breath that is time for some R.E.S.T. My new acronym for Restorative Energy Senior Time and I think its time to get me some.