My sister is in Las Vegas at the Grammy awards. She has a song nominated for independent artists. She has a very large, fat black diabetic cat that looks like a possum (minus its prickly nose).
I drove 4 1/2 hours from Southern Indiana to Nashville Tennessee, so that I can give this grouchy old cat, a shot of insulin two times a day. It has been ungraifyjing, because every time I go into one room, the cat goes into another. Thus, it is not a particularly grateful cat!
This is particularly disturbing, as I have to sleep with my cochlear implant processors on, as the cat gets its first shot at the crack of dawn, when my sister would normally get up. I, on the other hand, don’t get up until the sun is actually out.
Being deaf without my processors on means that alarm clocks will not wake me up, and I neglected to take my Pavlov “shock awake“ watch with me on this trip! God forbid if I overslept, and the cat went into diabetic shock!
Sleeping with processors on, is a very uncomfortable experience. Everytime I rolled over, I would awaken to the crunching sound of their microphones against the pillow. Thus the cat, named “Boo Boo,” ruled the night, and I was exhausted most of the day.
For one of the first times ever, Iognized how noisy it is at night in ,. . .
Living in the country, everything is a big city. And it also made me realize that my safety, at night while I sleep, is potentially compromised.
Since I’ve always felt safe when I’m by myself, (even as a deaf person), and even in the middle of the night, I recognized that last night my sleep was ruled by a big fat grouchy diabetic cat.
