Stevie-Ray
New member
I've always been one that is able to bound out of bed, fully alert, without having to "shake off the cobwebs" as some put it. Now, however, I've been on blood-pressure meds, as I suffer a bit from borderline hypertension. My medication works well down here, but even better at my new place where I am more relaxed. Last Friday, while there, my wife woke me out of a sound sleep for a bathroom visit. She's handicapped and I have to help her, especially with her CPAP. I am used to sitting on the bed for a few seconds to equalize, but this time out of a sound sleep, I simply got up. At the TV stand, I felt woozy, reached out to grab the stand to steady myself, which usually works at this point, and the next thing I remember was looking up at the ceiling wondering what the hell that sickening crashing sound was.
The crashing sound, as you may have guessed, was my head hitting the corner of the chest of drawers behind me. I never felt it, but somewhere in a dream state I heard what sounded like connecting perfectly with a softball. In a daze now, I reached back to find the top of my head severely bleeding. Walked over to the horrified wife, took off her CPAP, and promptly passed out again. Somewhere along the way, I went down for a third time, while soaking a washrag with blood for maybe the sixth time, before finally sitting quietly, fully clothed, and waiting, at the wife's insistence, for my brother to come and take me to the hospital where seven staples patched me back up. Just had them out today.
Yes, I'm probably lucky to be alive, and grateful, you betcha. But I can't help thinking that I am no longer in the camp of those that are fully physically prepared for most things as soon as I wake up. That's going to be a bitter pill to swallow, so to speak. Something to think about for those of you taking anti-hypertensives.
The crashing sound, as you may have guessed, was my head hitting the corner of the chest of drawers behind me. I never felt it, but somewhere in a dream state I heard what sounded like connecting perfectly with a softball. In a daze now, I reached back to find the top of my head severely bleeding. Walked over to the horrified wife, took off her CPAP, and promptly passed out again. Somewhere along the way, I went down for a third time, while soaking a washrag with blood for maybe the sixth time, before finally sitting quietly, fully clothed, and waiting, at the wife's insistence, for my brother to come and take me to the hospital where seven staples patched me back up. Just had them out today.
Yes, I'm probably lucky to be alive, and grateful, you betcha. But I can't help thinking that I am no longer in the camp of those that are fully physically prepared for most things as soon as I wake up. That's going to be a bitter pill to swallow, so to speak. Something to think about for those of you taking anti-hypertensives.