And he doesn't even have to take it. That's how it works in our family. I *suffer* from second hand sleep apnea. (My own term for being the partner of someone who has sleep apnea.) He reaps the benefits of a wife on Cymbalta. I don't really see how that is quite fair. Suffer/reaps the benefits. Do you see the issue here? That's okay, though, because I have learned in the last week that if my husband dies before me I am moving to Australia to find the man of my dreams--literally. The man who invented the sleep apnea machine.
Of course, the drawback to being able to have dreams is the Cymbalta. I have some crazy, stressed out dreams. The latest included me, on a team trying to make a beautiful two dimensional wedding dress cookie out of sugar cookie dough.
The problem with these dreams is this: In the beginning of the dream I am "all that!". I can make the most beautiful pastry you have ever seen! Then the mechanics start-somehow I make dough. Then somehow I roll out this dough into a perfect rectangle. Then I realize my teammates aren't helping me. Now, I am mad! Why is no one helping me?! This is supposed to be a team effort! Wait! What are they doing? Oh no, they are performing CPR. I must help, but the judge is here telling me to hurry up I am running out of time. So, I do what all rational people would do and continue to roll out teeny tiny layers to put on my wedding dress cookie.
It's about this time that I "remember" that I have no idea how to decorate cakes, cookies, or pastries of any sort. Not only that, but I am not artistic, at all! I am not able to make whatever it is in my mind come out of my fingers. This is not good! Then I look over and one of the judges has decided to "help me" with my cookie by drawing the outline of some Picasso-esque face with black piping gel all over my cookie. WHY?! I don't know, but she totally ruined my chance of winning a car.
Now everyone wins a car, but me. :( Then I notice the car my friend chooses has a big black dent and scrape along the side like it was his by a burning softball. I try desperately to get her to choose another car, but the cars are all like that now. They weren't a minute ago. HEY! These contest organizers are trying to cheat us out of our brand new cars!
Now. Don't you feel rested? Me neither. I wake up trying to figure out how to make the cookie. Oh, and the person receiving the CPR? Don't know. Never bothered to even check up on the guy because in my dreams I am compassionate like that.
So, I get the crazy dreams, but Michael gets the wife who does not sit in the car stressing over the fact that he is driving in the left lane and we have to turn right in just 3 miles. Hello! Don't you see we need to turn? And there are other cars! In the right lane! If we wait we may never get over! And you know what happens if we don't get over! No, we don't turn around. How are we going to turn around when the world has just ended?! We really need to get over now! After all we are turning in just 2.5 miles. Do you see my finger tapping against the door frame? It means you are not doing it the way *I* would!! And that is just wrong!
He loved driving with me.
Michael also gets the wife who gets dressed, puts on make up, drives 20 minutes to a restaurant, and will, get this, get out of the car! Even when there are more than like 3 other cars in the parking lot. I no longer get somewhere and just freeze in my seat like if I go in there something terrible is going to happen. We may not know it, but believe me it will happen.
I am surprised he never starved.
The most surprising effect has been that I even went to the gym. By myself. 5 times a week. For several months before we moved. That is a miracle unto itself! Now that was a gym I was somewhat familiar with. Now, I just need to find one here.
Hmmm. Come to think of it this was good for him. I wonder why he doesn't have cut abs?
Oh, AND, I can actually relax! Some. I don't feel the need to be doing *something* from the time I get up, until the time I go to bed. This is big! Just ask Michael. I mean do you know how hard it is to watch a football game when someone has decided they must dust the entertainment stand right now. Like really right now or the dust might form a coalition and take us all out. Or the carpet must be vacuumed. Also right now! I mean, if the NFL would just call me before they set up their playing schedule maybe we could work something out. But no, they don't care that some grass just fell off of someone's shoe.
Of course, now he wishes I would stand in front of the television and clean. Have you seen the Cowboys play this year?
So, thanks to Cymbalta I get crazy dreams, and Michael loses crazy wife. Too cool!
By the way, I was actually put on Cymbalta in order to help control the Fibromyalgia pain. It is only been discovered that I actually, certifiably have anxiety issues because of how much I have changed since being put on the Cymbalta. I thought this was normal, but in a way I feel like my world is opening up. And I have learned 2 things you don't want to hear from your doctor. 1. When describing your reaction to being in the "wrong lane of traffic: "No, that's not "normal". Not in my world." and 2. When awaiting blood test results: "You are one sick pup!"
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