May. 3, 2019

Sleep Gummies

I suffer from bouts of insomnia at times. One particular night, I decided I was going to get a good night’s rest and took a couple of sleep gummies. They’re filled with Melatonin (Melan); an enzyme our bodies create that help with sleep. In my defense, the directions do say 1-2 gummies at bedtime. I took two.

I fell asleep on the couch and at some point in the middle of the night, I heard my husband standing over me and saying something.

“Are you okay?” I heard him ask.

In my Melatonin induced haze, I was thinking, “Ugh, why is he waking me up! He knows I have problems sleeping and I finally get into a good sleep and now he wants to ask me questions!”

“Do you need help?” he continued, “Wake up!”

“What is he talking about?”

He comes closer. “Are you hurt?”

“Why would I be...oh hell! I’m on the floor!”

I woke up face down on the floor with my hands (palms down) on either side of my head. I was so groggy; I had to struggle to sit up. I finally get into a sitting position on the floor, as my husband is hunched over behind me and looking over my shoulder into my face.

With great relief he says, “Holy hell, I thought you were dead!”

I’m still hazy as I struggle to turn and look at him. “What?”

“I thought you were dead!” he reiterates. “I was walking over to lock the front door when I saw you just turn and roll off the couch like a log and then you went ‘WHAM!’ and hit the floor with a thud, but then I saw you move so I knew you were, at least, alive.”

I start pulling myself up and back onto the couch, which is a task and a half. I’m thinking to myself, “Did I WHAM so hard because of my big ass that I am now having trouble picking up off the floor; and why didn’t I even know I fell off the...”

As I lift said big ass off the floor and have it high in the air, I hear my husband behind me giggling. “I’m sorry! I know it’s not funny, but I keep thinking about how hard you hit the floor. You just rolled like a log and then didn’t even move. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to laugh!” (giggles more).

“It’s not funny,” I scolded in distress, still heaving the dorsal part of my body up onto the couch. “Okay, it’s a little funny, but right now it isn’t.”