Or perhaps it’s moron sleep?
A recent post over at Life Under the Lights triggered a memory. CK, I would say you were nuts, but I’ve been there.
I have sleep apnea. I suffered with it for years before finally getting diagnosis and treatment. It would probably be more accurate to say that Mrs. Mack505 suffered with it; I do strange things in my sleep-induced hypoxia. When we were newly married I once dreamt that the house was on fire, but the smoke alarms were not sounding. I jumped out of bed, stuffed the sleepy cat under my arm like a football, and made it halfway down the stairs before I awoke.
Wife and cat never let me forget that one, or the weekend I watched a COPS marathon and spent most of Saturday night searching for my Maglite. **sigh**
One night the phone rang at 1AM. It was a police officer friend of mine, on duty at our communications center. “Did you get the fire tones?” he asked.
Umm, what John? You woke me up.
“We’ve been struck by lightning. There’s smoke in the buildng. I toned out the fire department ten minutes ago, but no one has signed on. I think the radio is fried. Did you get the fire tones?”
“Can you drive down to the station and use the backup radio to dispatch everyone? We kind of need you guys up here.”
Umm, hang on. Talk to my wife. Tell her. I shoved the phone at Mrs. Mack505, who listend for a few seconds, then looked at me and said, “Yup, you’re awake. Go do it.”
I will never make an overnight dispatcher.