All Through the Night
I woke up feeling so rested today and then asked myself what was different about my last night’s sleep. I quickly realized that I had not gotten up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night – not once! WOW! What a difference that makes.
Here’s the history of my nightly trips to the bathroom. Before I ever even started school, I was an occasional bed-wetter. Believe, me there is nothing worse than waking up in a pool of hot urine. It’s wet, it smells, and it humiliates. This resulted in my not being able to spend the night at friends’ houses because of the fear of someone finding out. Heaven forbid anyone should know I was a bed-wetter! The truth is that I was never homesick, so that was a big lie.
My mother never got angry, but instead she always urged that every time I woke up and felt even the slightest urge, I should get up and pee. Well, if you think about it hard enough, you can always pee. So my nightly trips to the bathroom began. I’ve had more than one boyfriend and (only one) husband tease me about this. But in 50 years I have not once wet the bed. Instead I have had broken sleep patterns for all those years. I must admit to feeling somewhat envious as I pass my snoring husband who never ever gets out of bed after he closes his book and turns off the light.
I often wondered what would have happened if my mother had simply ignored the occasional wet sheets and just let me grow out of this. I don’t know too many adults who are troubled by bed-wetting. But instead that is one of her legacies to me.
But last night was different, thank goodness!
Here’s the history of my nightly trips to the bathroom. Before I ever even started school, I was an occasional bed-wetter. Believe, me there is nothing worse than waking up in a pool of hot urine. It’s wet, it smells, and it humiliates. This resulted in my not being able to spend the night at friends’ houses because of the fear of someone finding out. Heaven forbid anyone should know I was a bed-wetter! The truth is that I was never homesick, so that was a big lie.
My mother never got angry, but instead she always urged that every time I woke up and felt even the slightest urge, I should get up and pee. Well, if you think about it hard enough, you can always pee. So my nightly trips to the bathroom began. I’ve had more than one boyfriend and (only one) husband tease me about this. But in 50 years I have not once wet the bed. Instead I have had broken sleep patterns for all those years. I must admit to feeling somewhat envious as I pass my snoring husband who never ever gets out of bed after he closes his book and turns off the light.
I often wondered what would have happened if my mother had simply ignored the occasional wet sheets and just let me grow out of this. I don’t know too many adults who are troubled by bed-wetting. But instead that is one of her legacies to me.
But last night was different, thank goodness!
posted by Barbara at 12:23 PM
1 Comments:
Probably smart. I'd rather lie in my bed, completely uncomfortable for two hours holding a full bladder than interrupt my sleep (which has technically already been interrupted).
Post a Comment
<< Home