My mother was right. Chubby little girls who insist on ballet lessons, point no less, wind up with joint problems later in life. My feet are a mess, but it's my hips that sometimes wake me up in the middle of the night. Ordinarily there's no going back to sleep without medicinal intervention. Often I incorporate the pain into my dreams. I do the same thing with alarm clocks, but ironically the aches eventually wake me while the alarm does not.
Last night I dreamt. The pain was huge and radiant and I somehow knew that I had to take a pill that began with "g" to be alright. In the dream I knew the whole name of it, but in waking only the "g" remains. My friend Minda was there in the dream, and I asked her if she had this medication. She hesitated, because she had it by prescription and there are laws. But seeing what misery I was in, she dug a bottle out of her purse and dispensed just one, which I did not hesitate to swallow immediately, as pain knows no laws.
I woke up, hurting. But in the haze of half sleep I assured myself that I had just taken something and it would be okay soon.
It was when I was driving to work that I realized... the dream pill not only let me sleep, I was still pain free sitting in the car hours later. I am rarely pain free sitting in the car. Stunning.
Tonight I hope Minda gives me something to make my clothes fit better.
