Um, About Last Night ...
The strange story of my quest for sleep on the night of September 1-2
This morning, I woke up disoriented. Where was I? Had I been napping or asleep all night? What the hell time was it, anyway?
It was 11:38 - barely morning! Here's why.
I'm a night owl, so usually, my partner, Dave, has already been asleep for a few hours before I slide in next to him. When I do, I always try to be quiet, which, in fact, causes me to be rather loud. This wakes Dave up just long enough to say, "I love you so much," and then he konks back out.
Tonight I made it to bed at an admirable 11:30, aided by a sleep gummy and some good melatonin. Somehow I slipped fairly gracefully into bed without disturbing Dave, so we didn't talk. Instead I lay there getting comfortable and began the evening prayers I say before I nod off.
Lord, thank you for today, I began drowsily. Thank you for getting Ethan Coen to make the movie "Drive-Away Dolls," because I really liked it. Thank you for letting me randomly find pecan pie on the menu at a fast-food restaura--
But suddenly, from across the mattress, there arose a strange, throaty gurgling sound. The force of it shook the bed.
"Huh-BLIP!"
I waited, baffled. A few moments passed, and then - "Huh-BLIP!" There it was again! And the mattress wiggled again.
Since Jasmine has inscrutably taken to sleeping directly in front of the kitchen sink, I knew the sound must have been coming from Dave. I rolled over. "I thought you were asleep," I muttered. "What - what are you doing?"
"Huh-BLIP!" Shake. "Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP!" The force of the sound and its accompanying movement jostled my bad shoulder inside its broken socket.
Blearily, I grabbed for my glasses and put them on. "Huh-BLIP!" Shake. "Huh-BLIP!" Shake.
Earthquake? As my eyes focused, I saw that everything else in the room was still. Dave was resting peacefully next to me, his long chestnut hair spread out on the pillow, his face set in a dreamy smile.
And then the "Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP!" sound erupted from him, while at the same time he flopped up from the bed as if being resuscitated with cardiac paddles.
Oh, my God, I thought. He has the hiccups! In his sleep!
"Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP!" Dave shrieked wordlessly, jerking around like a fish on a pier as I watched, stupefied. Incredibly, he was still sound asleep.
"Huh-BLIP! Pwuh-YIP!" Now he had flipped himself facedown on the pillow, and the hiccups were coming out a little muffled.
I tried to blink away my sleep gummy and come to. Should I do something to, I don't know, maybe try and stop this somehow? I wondered.
"Pwuh-YIP! Pwuh-YIP!" He was still addressing the pillow.
Then a particularly violent hiccup flipped him over and propelled his arm straight up into the air and back down again. His hand landed right in the middle of his face, with a smack that made me wince. But still, Dave didn't wake up.
"Huh-BLIP!" he dispatched, his mouth never opening as he slumbered sweetly on. "Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP!"
Okay, I thought. I am going to Google this.
It seemed like maybe I should wake him up? Or it could also be that I should definitely not wake him up. Was hiccuping like sleepwalking?
"What? Why should it be anything like sleepwalking; what the hell?" asked my Inner Critic.
"I - I don't know," I answered her. "Anyway, shut up," I added snottily, and surprisingly, she did.
Well, what were some common hiccup-stopping strategies? Maybe one of them could be administered while Dave slept.
I had always heard that you should drink from the wrong side of a glass of water. Actually, it had worked for me more than once! I was just about to get up and grab a cup when I realized that, in his current somnolent state, Dave would either wake up to me pretty much dumping a glass of water in his face - or he'd drown.
"Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!" "Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!" Dave intoned beside me.
Great: now he was integrating snores into his hiccups. And he was still completely and totally asleep.
OK, I thought. No drinking from the wrong side of a cup. What else was there? Gargling with ice water, Google suggested. Ah, but there again, that pesky risk of drowning. Smelling onions, a lemon, or strong vinegar? Look, I barely want salad on my plate; I certainly don't want it in the bedroom. What else?
Scaring him, maybe? That works, doesn't it - you scare the hiccups out of someone? Frenzied, I thought immediately of Yorick, our nearly life-sized Dia de los Muertos decorative sugar skull: Could I shine a flashlight in Dave's face and hold Yorick an inch or two from his nose?
No. No; good God, Sally. You don't intentionally frighten or startle someone who has PTSD. And anyway, seeing Yorick pop up in the middle of the night could cause a bigger health event than the one I was trying to to treat.
"Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!" "Huh-BLIP! Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!" Dave trumpeted emphatically. "Haaaaawngh!"
Okay, Sally. Stupid sleep gummy - get it together and find something!
Aha: "Place your pointer finger in the space between your upper lip and base of your nose. Press this point firmly with your index finger for 20 to 30 seconds or longer as you focus on deep breathing," advised one result.
Oh, perfect! I'd wake him by stabbing him in the upper gums for a prolonged period! Isn't that what any loving partner would do?
"Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh! Haaaaawngh! Huh-huh-huh-BLIP!"
Still shocked by this unprecedented display, I peered over at Dave, perfectly relaxed as his body bucked and yawed with the chaos of the hiccups and snores.
Jesus Christ.
Through the din, I heard the tapping of Jasmine's claws on the hallway tile, followed by silence as she hesitated to cross the threshold. She beheld Dave, lying on his side now, his hands clasped at his chest as if in prayer, snoring and hiccuping to beat the band, punctuating his percussive outbursts with Rockette-style leg kicks - all while slumbering right through his own astonishing performance.
Jasmine cocked her head, worried, then looked at me.
"It's OK, Jazzy. Daddy's fine," I managed. She didn't look convinced.
As I opened a new search tab and queasily typed in “D-E-M-O-N-I-C P-O-S-S-" Dave's next eruption kicked his leg behind him and into my stomach.
"Fwaw!" I exclaimed, unable to help myself. That hurt! Jasmine let out a single resonant baritone bark in solidarity. Normally sensitive to her barks, Dave gave no sign of a response, his tranquil expression undisturbed even as his body remained attached to a sadistic puppet master's invisible wires.
All right, I thought. This is not fine. There's no way this is fine! Someone's going to get hurt. Jasmine watched me nervously as I stood up and assessed the situation.
"Haaaaawngh! Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh! Haaaaawngh!"
Hey, I realized. Dave was already on his side. Couldn't I sort of give him a more gentle, spooning sort of Heimlich maneuver? I wondered. Maybe that would somehow stimulate the vagus nerve, which seemed to be responsible for the whole sorry operation.
Yes. Yes, that just might do it. All right, I decided. I'll just get into position there, and -
But then the bed really began to rattle. A guttural, honking, clamoring commotion arose from Dave as - oh, dear God - a snore and a hiccup detonated at the same time:
“Guh-FLEEP!" David issued serenely as Jasmine whined and darted behind my legs.
Then it happened again: "Guh-FLEEP!" The force of the blast jackknifed him up so that his knees nearly touched his chest before he fell back down flat on the mattress.
And then there was a staggering silence, a horrible, wretched absence of any noise at all, even of the sound of breath.
What had happened? Hopelessly addled as I was by sleep meds, my brain couldn't interpret it properly.
He's imploded! I thought hysterically. The combined force of the hiccup and the snore ... he's exploded from the outside in!
And then I had one of those moments where you fly up out of yourself for just a moment, up to the ceiling, and look down on the scene with the situational remove you so desperately need. I gazed down at myself, dementedly checking the pulse of someone who was happily snoozing away.
To wit: "Haaaaawngh! Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!"
This episode was a force of nature. I could do nothing to stop it.
All the wind taken out of my sails, I could only watch my fiancé sleep, a blissful expression on his face as he alternately emitted demonic snores and dainty hiccups.
It then struck me that this was perhaps the funniest thing I'd seen in months. Maybe all year. I laughed: a single tentative yip in a darkened bedroom at 2 AM.
Soon, I was giggling. And then I was guffawing.
Presently, I was so overcome that I couldn't stand up anymore, and I oozed helplessly onto the bed, sobbing and quivering with mirth. I knew from experience that, much like Dave's attack of snore-hiccups, I couldn't end a laughing fit. I could only hang on and wait it out.
"Haaaaawngh! Huh-BLIP! Haaaaawngh!" David expressed, and I wiped my eyes. I was going to lose it all over again. I could feel it.
But suddenly, an unexpected sound: a voice! It was Dave! He was awake - at least partly!
Well! It was about time.
I turned to him, trying to sober up. "Honey! Haha! Are you - ha! - I mean, are you OK? Hahaha," I tried to ask, quickly falling apart.
"Sally," Dave mumbled. "Can you try'n be lil' quieter? Thanks," he said and promptly rolled over, leaving me to gape wordlessly at his sleeping form.
Me? A little more quiet?
Me?!
"Haaaaawngh!" Dave snored. Moments later, I heard "Haaaaawngh!" Just after that, there came "Haaaaawngh!" followed directly by "Haaaaawngh!"
No more hiccups! I thought. Okay, that's more like it: I’ve poked some fun here, but the truth is, I actually love Dave's snoring. It's comforting, and it makes the perfect white noise. But as I scrunched in beside him and closed my eyes, I felt the bed judder and jolt:
"Huh-BLIP!"
Yup, I sighed to myself, rolling over. There it was.
The suspense of wth was going on was intense! 🤣