Sleeping In Separate Bedrooms

We've been married for almost 25 years.  I guess this was inevitable.

Since Monday night, my husband Alex and I have been sleeping in separate bedrooms.  No, we didn't have a fight.

I have a problem that is making it very difficult for anybody to sleep with me.  If anybody has ever had this problem, they will understand right away.  If they haven't, they will think I'm crazy.  The truth is probably someplace in the middle.

I started getting sick on Saturday.  I got worse on Sunday.  By Monday, I was re-writing my will.  I had a fever of 101F.  I was racked with coughing spells that actually felt like they were cracking my ribs.  When I bent over, it was like opening a faucet from my nose and eyes.  Coughing was agonizing, and completely out of my control.

Because of the upcoming holiday, I went to the doctor and he put me on a Z-Pac and nasal spray and some strong antihistamine medication.  My doctor also assured me I probably wouldn't die, but we all know doctors sometime lie in the situations just because that's what they do.  

Alex was in the process of trying to prepare a major presentation for work.  I'm not sure he noticed when I moved out of our bedroom and into Harry's apartment downstairs.  Alex also had Zoe and Harry, our two big mutts to keep him warm during a really cold spell.  I do understand that Alex was very preoccupied with work. 

By the way, I am a person who embraces being a "caregiver".  My husband, Alex, does not understand the concept of the word "caregiver".  (But you might also understand why I was trying to change my will.)

I had my misery and pain.  And I had yowling, hissing, meowing, rutting cats in my ears driving me crazy.  When I put my head down at night to sleep, my eardrums were full of squeaks, squeals, clicks, meows, moans, hisses,and sometimes Geiger counters that kept me awake.  These noises were in total concert with my breathing.  I began to realize, there may be worse things than death.

Now I like cats just fine.  But I really don't like cats in my head making a total racket.  When Alex considerately came in to check on me after about 72 hours, I had finally fallen into a drugged and fitful sleep.  He says he could hear "wheezing noises".  Wheezing my ass!  Those were the cats in my head making all that noise.

My fever is gone.  I have two more days of antibiotics. I'm beginning to think I may not have to do anything with my will right this minute.  I may even go back to our blissful marital bed by Christmas, but I may bring the cats!