It's a bit of a slow news day for us. Not a lot is going on, although we've gotten reports of groups of survivors in Alaska and possibly Seattle, but the contact with the folks in Alaska is tenuous right now, and info is thin.
We really thought there would be an attack yesterday. It was warm for a very long time, which most of us believed would awaken the hibernating zombies around here and bring them hunting. Fortune seems to favor us, however. No attack came.
The dramatic shifts in the temperature throughout the day are sapping morale around the compound. It's hard for a person to go from a beautiful sunny day to freezing cold when the dark comes. Many of us are kind of walking around in an irritated daze, waiting for the constant gloom of winter. At least then we'll have some consistency and maybe be able to get used to it.
I've been experiencing some odd symptoms the last few days, including a similar haziness to the folks unable to get used to the weather. I wake up exhausted every morning, with a bad headache, and have a really hard time concentrating and thinking clearly. My first concern was that Jess was dosing me with something again, slipping some kind of pharmaceutical into my meals like she did a few months back. I asked her, though, and she swears that's not the case.
It's not like I would get angry at her about it at this point. We've suffered a lot together, so trying to medicate me for my own good is far down on my list of shit to rage about. I accept her answer at face value, because she really has no reason to lie.
So, I talked to Evans. Time was, I would have asked my mom, but she's gone now. Strange how the weirdest things can open up those wounds and remind you what you've lost.
At any rate, I asked Evans about it since my lifelong healthcare coach has moved on, and he says that I have probably developed sleep apnea. Jess did tell me not long ago that my snores have begun to evolve from merely cute and gentle zzz's into the mighty rasp of a saw on a hard knot of wood. So yeah, looks like sleep apnea.
Last year, that would have been no problem. This year, I really have no options. I mean, I can't use a CPAP or anything like that, since we don't have any. Not to mention that we can't spare the power to run such a machine all night. And the other solutions such as changing sleeping position and whatnot don't work. I tried those years ago when I had a previous bout of heavy snoring and tiredness, though I had no idea at the time what sleep apnea was...
It sounds like I'm just bitching about my problem and to a degree I am. It sucks to be tired all day and feel like nothing makes sense when you read it. It frustrates and irritates the hell out of me. Add to that the fact that I know there will be no easy relief, along with all the other stress of living in a world populated by hungry, walking corpses, and you get a cycle of exhaustion-fueled rage and despondence that goes nowhere good.
That's one of my biggest fears. While I know from a lifetime of experience that I will always adapt and feel better regardless of how many times life kicks me in the balls, I don't know how many others around here can. We're a tougher lot than the average person who died in The Fall, surely, but everyone has their limits.
Some folks are managing very well. They are eating regularly if not sumptuously. They are within the relative safety of our walls. They have tolerably warm places to live, decent and needed work to perform. All of that is to the good.
But as you have read over the last week or so, not everyone's lie around here is so easy. Many people are dealing with the traumas in their lives, many so atrocious that they can't even talk about it. That constant stress I love to talk about, the daily fear of attacks and losing those we love is enough to test anyone.
What concerns me is the thousand tiny details that add up over time. For me, today, it's a sleep disorder I can't do anything about that is going to effect the quality of my life. For another person, it could be finally remembering that we don't have a corkscrew when he wants to open that bottle of wine he snagged to celebrate his anniversary. The woman who comes home from a long day of patrol on the wall only to realize that she's starting her cycle and the compound has run out of sanitary items for her to use.
Yeah, people hate that our medical facilities are limited, but that's a big thing that can be rationalized. It's the little bits we had become so used to that will bleed our minds a drop at a time. Can the adaptability that is the hallmark of the human animal work fast enough to get us used to the lack of so many things that eased our lives? I don't know.
I have always been a resilient guy, and most of the survivors with us are tough as nails. Right now I feel distracted and tired, but I know that once I get a handle on it this problem, I will manage fine. I'd like to think that the rest of the people here are better than me. Maybe they will be able to brush off the little things and appreciate what is rather than wishing for what was.
I hope so. The world that was is gone forever, and wishing will do us no good.