In the Middle of the Night…

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That’s right. He goes walkin’ in his sleep.

As many of you know, Big Fisch is a chronic sleep walker. I’ve referred to it from time to time, because usually when he sleep walks, and I remember, it’s HILarious.

And slighty frightening.

But mostly hilarious.

I pride myself on being able to tell when he is awake-awake, verses sleep walking-awake. When awake, Big Fisch is often bright-eyed, goofy, and 7 times out of 10 saying something that doesn’t really make sense. When sleep walking, he is often still goofy and saying something that doesn’t make sense, except he’s wide-eyed instead of  bright-eyed.

Ohhh the eyes. They’re crazy eyes. They’re glazed over, popping out of his head, on another planet, looking through you kind of eyes.

Kind of like AC Slater’s googly eyes, except blood shot and less friendly.

You get the picture.

Well two nights ago, Big Fisch went to bed earlier than normal because he was extra tired and not feeling too well. I stayed up working on the computer, and about 30 minutes later I heard shuffling coming from our room. I stopped typing and sat silently so I could listen and try to predict his next movement.

I could hear him get out of bed and thought oh no, here we go.

He doesn’t normally leave the room when he sleep walks, so I was curious what he was up to.

Shuffle shuffle, trip, shuffle shuffle.  I heard him making his way down the hall.

Getting nervous, I looked over my shoulder as he stumbled into the room.

“Layla,” he whimpered, “I don’t feel good.”

Trying to study his eyes I slowly asked, “Why? What’s wrong honey?”

“I just hurt, Layla” whimper, whimper; belly scratch.

The eyes weren’t wide-eyed. They weren’t blood-shot and they didn’t appear to be seeing “real” moving spiders on my head like they often do. But this wasn’t like Big Fisch to act so child-like in a moment of a potential physical emergency.

“Well what hurts on you? Is it your head or your stomach?”

“I just hurt Layla!” whimper whimper.

“Okay, well do you need medicine?”

“Yes!”

“Alright, get back in bed and I’ll bring you some.”

“Okay…” as he stumbled back to bed.

I fetched some Advil and brought it back to him with water, uncertain whether I should be alarmed or not. As I walked over to him in bed, he appeared to be sound asleep again.

“Honey” I whispered, “I have some medicine.”

He sat up in bed and whimpered, then simply opened his mouth for me to pop the pills in. How peculiar,  I thought. Should I be really worried? Do I need to call a doctor if he can’t even take medicine himself?

He waited with his mouth open for me to pour water in. After he swallowed, he whimpered again “I hurt!” Then he layed back down and fell asleep immediately.

Odd, I thought. I guess I should stay near in case he has some weird reaction.

I got in bed a few minutes later and tried carefully not to disturb him. Aware of my presence, however, he rolled over and mumbled:

“mmmghgsdmg, I love you.”

Uncertain whether he was truly awake and knowing that he doesn’t like when I don’t return the sentiment, I whispered:

“I love you too.”

“No, I LOVE YOU GUYS” he shouted. Then he got real quiet and fell into steady rhythmic breathing.

I layed there a few minutes staring at the ceiling, with my own crazy eyes, until I was positive the sleep walking, medicine eating, whimpering monster was asleep.

Apparently there were others beside me in our room and he wanted us all to know he loved us.

The next morning he didn’t remember a thing.

I had  failed to tell whether he had been truly awake or not.  I mean, who asks for medicine in their sleep, then proceeds to consume it without waking up?

Sheesh.

Now it’s getting more difficult to read him and understand his behavior. I’m thinking that children will be a cinch to take care of in comparison. That is unless we produce mini wide-eyed, food/beverage/medicine consuming, sleep walking offspring. Oh sweet Jesus, help us all. All of us. All of us “guys” who Big Fisch loves.