Sleep deprivation vs. parental stress

Another true story straight from the trenches of motherhood: May 17, 2012

Upon arriving at work, I stand in a fluorescent lit box and desperately attempt to focus on these circles with arrows on them. I stare.

A voice questions, “Up?” 

“Yes, I want up.”

The same voice asks, “What floor?” 

My eyes concentrate ahead hoping a number will step forth to be identified. “Um, 6? Yes. 6.”

My uterus expelled its contents months before, and still, successive hours of sleep are not possible.

Later during a procedure, after whistling the Jeopardy them song, Doctor X asks, “Did you get your hair cut this weekend?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t even know what day of the week it is, do you?”

“It’s Monday, right?” I quickly check to make sure my scrubs are not inside-out.

He knows. “My wife and I had calculated out the trajectory from my son’s window, and often wondered if we could make people believe he crawled out the window.”

Me, nervously, “Ha…haha…ha…ha…”

Then he professes a very informative lesson. “And he turned out to be the good kid. Our daughter on the other hand became a drama queen. That just goes to show you that current performance is never an indicator of future performance.”

True. So true. 

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