Inn Of The Synth Happiness
I did something spontaneous yesterday. I used to see myself as Mr Spontaneous (“Lets bunk off work for the day, pull on our parkas, jump on our scooters and ride off to Brighton”). As I’ve got older, I’m not sure about being spontaneous – it makes me a bit wobbly.
But yesterday was different. Did I pitch up at the Britain’s Got Talent auditions and wow them with my version of Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep on the mouth organ? Did I throw my belongings into a knapsack and climb the nearest mountain in hush puppies. No. My spontaneous act was …… sleep.
It has been great watching Steven as he has come back to life since we stopped the medication. It’s like there has been a dimmer switch for the past seven years (albeit Steven’s dimmer switch shines pretty powerfully). He is full of energy. He is chatting and singing endlessly. He is brimming with vim. Fabulous but exhausting. I’m hopeless if I have broken sleep and for the last two weeks have had to manage on average about four hours a night.
One of Steven’s regular support workers is on holiday for two weeks, so I’ve shared his shifts around amongst the rest of the team. The guy who does the later shift on Mondays (till 9pm), volunteered to do the early shift today (starting 6am). When he arrived yesterday, he asked me whether he could sleep over because his travelling time is over two hours – he’d get home on Monday night and then have to be up four hours later to come back for the Tuesday shift. I was due a normal repsite evening anyway and had already booked another worker to do an overnight. That sounds foolproof doesn’t it but I worried that Steven might be a bit unsettled by having two people having to snuggle up on the sofa. I could see my chances of a good sleep fading.
That was 1pm yesterday and the thought of having a night away seemed very attractive. I checked the airport hotels for a bargain and by 4pm, I’d packed a bag and was on my way. I was grinning from ear to ear at the thought of a good night’s sleep. But I know me. I’ve done this before. Wanting to take in the full Holiday Inn experience, I’ve been up to past midnight, watching late night television with a bottle of the house wine and eating triple packs of Jaffa Cakes.
Once I arrived at the Holiday Inn, everything conspired to force me to bed. The remote control to the TV was missing a battery, so I couldn’t work the telly. I took my IPad with me but the hotel were charging £5 per hour for wi-fi and I didn’t fancy paying that. I took my portable DVD player and a boxed set of Endeavour but when I got there, I realised that I’d forgotten to pack the plug. I sat in the bar for an hour or so with my book (the latest Emily Bronte) but left when the Liverpool game came on because I knew I would get sucked in.
I was in bed at 8.45pm and didn’t wake up to 6.45 this morning. Bliss.
The lifts at the Holiday Inn were a treat. They were playing Katy Perry’s greatest hits, played on a synth. I didn’t think you could still get those synth version records. It was like Bobby Crush was hiding in the lift shaft. On my return to my room after dinner, there was a Japanese family in the lift with me, belting out “Firework”. I joined in but didn’t want to over-excite myself in case it hampered my sleep.
Living life in the very slow lane has its benefits at times.
From → Social Care