To Sleep, to dream

I sometimes go to bed pretty damn early, excluding back 9 months ago when I was at the gym at 2:30 or 3 in the AM. Sometimes I sleep most of the night. Most times, naw, not a full night without interruption. It took 5 months before I was able to sleep in my bed again. Where I didn't have to be almost sitting up to sleep. Too little angle and my drainage would just almost choke me. I was swallowing a bit better, so I wasn't aspirating as much of my own juice and having to cough it out the trach tube in the night. That was pretty decent, by gosh, to lie down at 10 and not wake up until 4 or 5 in the AM. Later if I was really tired. I had cool dreams then, too, and still do. I remember dreaming an entire murder mystery one night. I woke up thinking "cool! But any?". Strange days indeed.

 Since the last surgery, my throat and all is swollen back up and I'm not swallowing as well. I'm sure that some of that will subside, and some better swallowing will occur. I think it is now. The bad thing is, I cough up a lot of stuff again. I get interrupted sleep sometimes 4 or 5 times a night. It's why you see me headed to the rack early in the evening more now. I can get 3 or so hrs of straight sleep before I start to hack, then it can be awake to hack every hour, all the way up to every couple, or as short as 20 minutes. That's not so conducive to a good night's sleep. I get plenty, just not in a consecutive run. I rather prefer 5 hrs straight sleep to 6-8 hrs of up and down sleep. It really frosts my cupcakes when the hacking interrupts a sweet dream. Like riding Fat Girl on a nice cool morning. The not sleeping well thing I believe is going to get worse instead of better. As the cancer grows it's going to affect my ability to swallow, which is damn near none existent, and speak, which is getting better. The less I swallow, the more I'll aspirate and the worse the coughing will become. Particularly at night when I'm stretched out trying to saw as many logs as is possible.

 Some nights I don't sleep at all. I'll sit in the recliner, waiting for my eyes to get heavy, and nothing. Zilch, nada, zero, nothing. That, when I was younger wasn't such a pain in the ass as it is now. When I was younger I went 6 weeks on a couple hrs sleep a night. When I finally did crash out, it was for almost 24 hrs.. Talk about weird assed dreams. It seemed like all that bottled up subconscious just poured out in one night. Seeing as how that was close to 30 years ago I don't recall what they were anymore, but I know they were odd for certain.

 I have really vivid dreams, filled with full blown conversations, action, plot, really neat stuff. Most of them are crystal clear as well. But unless I make a concerted effort to remember them, they fade away by mid morning. Kind of a sad thing, in a way. I mean, how cool would it be to recall the dreams like a regular memory? Unless forgetting them is the safety valve that keeps us within the realm of reality and not dream land. That could be. I know I've gone some pretty slick places in dreams I've never even seen other than National Geographic. Forgetting the dreams has to be the safety valve, otherwise we'd all seem like the folk that  "enhance" their resume's. Enhance being the politically correct way of saying "Lied their ass off".  The few that I do remember, if I were to "Enhance" my memories would have me snow jumping off the ramp to catch the runner of a helicopter to go get oysters on the half shell in Rhode Island. No, I hung onto the runner all the way from CO to Rhode Island. Cool dream, but I haven't really been on a ski jump, hung onto a helicopter runner, or had oysters on the half with Jason and Steve from Ghost Hunters. Cool, but complete bullshit. I like those though, I wake up thinking where in God's name did THAT come from.

 Sometimes I dream about work. When I worked the service rig with the old man, I had a dream we went out to swab a well in. Hooked up the casing swab and down hole we went. The void the swab makes creates a vacuum. Apparently, in my dream, almost all the way out of the hole, the vacuum got so great it killed the engine on the rig and started sucking the sand line back into the well. Pop hung on the brake so hard they glazed and wouldn't hold anything. He walked off the catwalk, said "Well, fuck, come on", and up the hill we went to watch. It ended up sucking the entire rig down the well, and was sucking in the location. Got the dog house, and the pick up. I woke up after dad said "Did you get our lunch and my thermos?". I still remember thinking "What the fuck", told dad the next day and we both had a laugh.
 The last work related dream I had was just last week. I dreamed a memory. Almost word for word as it happened. I've never had that happen before. I've had dreams of memories, but they were never totally accurate. The generalities were there, just not the detail. This one last week was detailed, like it was insanely accurate. I wonder why that particular dream. It may have had something to do with visiting My Boys at the office.
 Anyway, our lead mechanic (he oversees all the roustabout/repair/rebuild work in the field) took two weeks vacation. He needed it. The boss comes in and tells me I get to ramrod the gangs, which is fine. I can't ramrod the well servicing rigs, they dick around too much to satisfy me. Things like taking lunch at exactly 12, with 10 or twelves sticks in the air instead of just running them, and then taking a break. I lose my cool. It seems I've got 8 days to get an old battery remodeled and ready to handle a new well that's being drilled. 8 heater treaters, 5  tanks, (one of which is a real pile that needs a day of welding repair and another of coating to make it a water tank), set a water transfer pump, replumb the entire header system, and have it ready to sell oil. Wheeee.
 So, they send me over 2 full gangs (6 guys), a trace-hoe operator, and I order out 3 vacuum trucks to empty vessels. First day, shut in, tear down. The trucks get there 3 hrs late. Captain Temper is hammering at the door. I explain to them, with an interpreter, (Captain Temper is now kicking the door) that I want the water and interface taken out of the vessels and dumped at our SWD 1/2 mile away. Two trucks working and they are gone, ready waiting to unload, no problem. Third guy is slower than molasses in January. It's killin me. The trucks know to come back. Two don't. Okay, fine, we are close I can make do as I call the truck pusher and eat his ass out for pulling my trucks without calling and clearing it. Third guy, no clue where he went. The gangs and I continue on. He's gone 3 hrs. So far dream and reality are right there, with the time cut down of course, it's a highlight reel.
 The driver shows back up, and I ask him just where the hell he's been. He turns his back on me laughing. Captain Temper is now alive, well, and about to open his twin 50's up on this ignorant cock munch. I got started on an old school oil field ass eatin that begins with "HEY!!! You son of a bitch, no mother fucker turns his back on ME when I'm asking him what the hell he's doing wasting my time and money! Turn your stupid ass around now!" When I finish, 7 other men on the location are silent. I think there's a damp spot on the driver's pants. My head gang pusher comes up and asks "Are you okay?" Calm me says "Yeah, I'm fine, what's up?". That's where I wake up. I swear on a stack of bibles it's the memory in dream form. Word for word.
 We finished that battery on time, all but 2 well hook ups. My gangs and I got along great, we worked fast, safely, and according to a plan. We had to alter the plan more than once, but it was okay. The job was finished.
 In reality, the gang pusher that asked if I was alright added "Were you a Marine?" Nope, too blind and deaf to make the military. "You were leaned in on that guy, hands at your sides, yelling at full throttle, and didn't look like you blinked. One of my guys started over to say something and I said, Really? You want some of that? He stayed with me. 2 of the guys got scared" Of ME? Why? Are the fucking up? No need to worry unless your REALLY screw the pooch.

 So now, dream analysts, what does that shit mean? I've no clue, but I woke up laughing. Liz says I laugh in my sleep sometimes. I don't recall doing that. She says really loud and hard sometimes, and I never open my eyes.
 Those are the dreams I'd like to remember. Not this work stuff.  Here I think I've rambled. I may have to start doing the blogs when I'm up a bit so they aren't so scatter brained.

 I used that example to show as well that I'm not always happy go lucky me. My temper is a fierce son of a gun, and I struggle daily to keep his ass locked up where he belongs. He can make my and everyone around me life just miserable. He serves a purpose, for certain. Like helping me fight cancer. He was in my dreams the first time in 08 when I dreamed every night of taking a bit of the tumor out, grinding it to dust and blowing it away. I wonder why that particular dream hasn't shown up this time. Maybe my body knew something ahead of the the Doctors and myself. Interesting question. I'll ask when I start the next Big Adventure. Surely someone on the other side can tell me