Rising at what seems the crack of dawn has become the norm for me, instigated by a very precise and harsh medication schedule. My blood pressure insists in a calmer every six hours, and the necessity to crush, dissolve and impel that solution through my handily inserted feed portal requires a degree of wakefulness that banishes an immediate return to slumber far, far, away.
Awake at five thirty in preparation for the six o’clock fix ensures a goodly two-hour minimal interruption in my sleep pattern, already shattered by any number of loosely related mitigating circumstances.
Good quality rest, particularly repose, is supposedly one of the natural sources of speedy recovery, but so many rituals during the healing process seem quite averse to this goal. Rest is a peculiarly personal acquisition, requiring solely individual conditions to be positively enjoyed. Such does no gel well with regimentation, a necessity in any organized medical environment, public or private.