Feeling sheepish...

Version 2.0 mattress, which actually was my first choice originally, was delivered yesterday (per the lovely photo on the last entry).  By night's end, my arms did not hurt, even though I sacrificed the pillow-top feature and my back was much, much better after my first nocturnal stay upon its plush-top-firm-individually-wrapped-coiled infrastructure, resulting in the longest "asleep" period I have had in longer than I can remember.

But...I have learned that Amos is a bit smarter than I.

You see, after leaping up on the bed and abruptly finding himself back on the floor without achieving his goal, he rather quickly figured out that he could access the bed from the antique trunk that sits at the foot of the bed.  Being an active little fellow, all last night and each time today that he needed to leave or get back up on the bed, he used the trunk as his launching and landing pad.

Me?  Well, twice last night I fell out of bed.  And...a third time...I fell getting into bed. I am wondering if I need bed-rails for my new mattress.  Frankly, I don't think climbing in and out of bed via the trunk is an option for me.  I suppose I could figure out some sort of steps for crawling into bed without landing on the floor, but can you imagine the catastrophe of my trying to walk down steps in the middle of the night when the needs of my body call?  The number of times I get up to be ill in the bathroom has gotten better, but I still need to leave for other purposes in the bathroom and sometimes I end up using all six ice packs between the first time I get into bed and when I finally admit that I am up for the day.  That means six trips out of bed, down the stairs to the kitchen, and back into the bed.  A veritable disaster in the making.

Who's bright idea was it to make modern mattresses so stinking lofty in stature?  I am 5' 7" and I struggle with accessing the bed.  What do those more vertically challenged than I do?

I wonder if the difference is magnified by the new box spring I was gifted.  However, I am sure it is far too late to ask for my old one back.

Bed rails.  ARGH!  I am a middle-aged woman!  Shouldn't I know how to navigate a bed by now?  I do not need to buy yet another item when I got a rotten little letter today telling me that the last $2,268 of unemployment will no longer be forthcoming.  That was a huge blow to me, especially since I went ahead with the replacement of my seventeen-year-old mattress.

Given that nary a single response to the well over 100 resumes I sent out garnered a response and that my body is hourly falling apart, I suppose I should accept the admonishment and advice that I should begin the disability application.

I am just a silly girl.  I really am.  But, to me, just the mere thought of working on that application makes me feel like I would be declaring that my life is over.  Stupid, I know.  Especially one who spends far too much time on Amazon looking at travel chairs (lightweight ones really designed for a friendly person to push you around). A few folk have pushed me around places with those free-use wheelchairs in stores and museums and such this past year and not struggling to walk about sure was nice.  Really nice.  I was thinking it would be oh so convenient if there was one in the back of my car when folks visited in case they were interested in skipping the gym and get their exercise by pushing me about during trips out-of-doors longer than a few minutes of walking here or there.

Even so, even though I already technically am, I do not wish to be disabled. Nor do I wish to spend the next two years (or so I have been advised) arguing with the government that I really do have a body that sort of no longer likes me.

Stupid mattress.


I am Yours, Lord.  Save me!