A rat was chewing in the walls last night. Amazing how wood amplifies sound. What was he doing in the wall space? Thought there'd be a great hole into the room but there was no sign to show for his industriousness.
I would get up and bang on the wall, after pressing my ear to the wood, to hear the gnawing all the more clearly, knowing only a finger width of wood was between the delicate flesh of my ear and his yellow teeth. The rat would stop after I'd pounded the wall and then we'd listen to one another listening to one another. Eventually the cold and silence would force me back into bed. We both waited and then when the tension of silence was high, he'd take the first tentative chew.
Then R got up all torchlight flash and male Can Do stomping. But the rat out waited him too.
Between that and a full moon sleep was elusive. Woke up this morning leaden but determined. Too many mouths to feed to wallow in bed. Then of course there was Natalia, the furry alarm clock. Matisse's strategy to get us moving is to launch his considerable weight from across the room onto the bed. One can jump up and down or one can jump up and down with force. Matisse weighs 14 lbs. Fourteen pounds of pure muscle. He uses that stone of weight with force. I swear when he lands the weight of him levitates R and I.
Natalia's tactic is more subtle. She pushes her face close to mine, opens her mouth and shouts. I love her, she is a darling little cat, but Ella Fitzgerald she ain't. It isn't a cracked high decibel Siamese meow like Matisse but it is high pitched, loud and somewhat scratchy. Of all the cats, Nairobi's meow is most pleasant, the Mel Torme of meows. Anyway, from very deep and far away I rose to the surface. Natalia's happy at attention whiskers tickled my face. Only thing I can do is roll out of bed and into the morning routine dragging the remains of an anxiety dream like a torn scarf behind me.
Anxiety dream #1. I dreamed Richard had scheduled his own euthanasia. He didn't want to deteriorate any more physically or mentally or be a burden so while he was still strong he decided to die. I was trying to stop him. Actually dreamed this dream two nights ago so the details have gone, only the horror remains. Horror because I know it's a dream of fear. What will happen to Richard in the coming years and therefore what will happen to me? Will I cope? Will I be strong and patient and loving always? Will I have to make horrible decisions I can hardly even contemplate? Will I have to fight feelings of being trapped?
Already I don't like the idea of leaving him alone. The other day, for the first time in years, I asked if he would get up and do the morning chores while I had a sleep in. Constant insomnia caught up with me. I slept an extra two hours! When I got up he'd been up for an hour and a half. In that time he'd fed the cats, walked the dogs and given them their breakfast, let the horses out and made coffee. I was ready to fall onto my cup of caffeine when I saw the lorikeet dishes. Then I saw the pellet container. Haven't you fed the birds yet, I asked. I tried not to be angry but I was. What had he done for an hour and a half? It's not his fault and the anger faded quickly but already I feel the walls closing in hence the dream and secret longing. Of course consciously I don't want him to die but unconsciously I'm already looking for an escape. It's an awful thing to admit and I am ashamed but there it is. Dreams don't lie.
Anxiety dream #2. I'm a vet nurse On Call. I get a call from a panicked owner of a guinea pig. The animal has something wrapped or caught on its molars deep inside its mouth. If it isn't removed the guinea pig will get pneumonia. I ring Karen. It's after midnight. Takes her 45 minutes to get to the surgery and then I realize I haven't got the number of the owner. Karen is livid. Understandably. She waits around for awhile and then leaves in a huff. Will she ever forgive me and my stupidity? Then the owner arrives with the guinea pig and I have no vet. Luckily Nerida arrives, calm and collected and takes matters in hand. Saved! But guilt remains. How could I be so dumb and why haven't I learned, after all this time, to get the name and number of the client first before anything else?
And why am I dreaming anxiety dreams?
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