Spasmodic Behavior
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If you are unsure what spasmodic or spaz means let me throw a couple of definitions out at you. It’s been defined an awkward person, someone who is clumsy often falling down, or rapid irregular movement or in my definition . . . a body part or parts that come to life at night and scare the shit outta you.
Let me take you back some . . .
About 100 years ago when I was about 8, I remember my mom got this little dachshund puppy and named her Brandy. She was adorable and such a good dog until the fateful day when an asshole driving entirely too fast down our little brick stone street ran her over and ended her life. Okay, wait, I thought I was over that . . . evidently not.
Anyway, prior to her death, I remember watching her sleep and I’d witness her little paws just twitching away or watch her muscles twitch like crazy. Sometimes she’d even start moving her paws like she was running. It was adorable and yes, spastic.
Jump a few years up and I’m at my first slumber party at 13 years old and it was then that I witnessed or rather felt, the restless leg syndrome my poor friend was plagued with and then I became a victim as I got the shit kicked out of me. I was unable to move because someone had the grand idea to zip all the sleeping bags together, therefore cocooning us all in like a bunch of sardines.
Jump ahead again, and I was a victim at another sleepover in high school next to my spastic restless leg syndrome friend. This time, I just rolled out of her queen sized bed and slept on the floor. Let this restless leg syndrome madness end!
Well, now I am learning to love and live with the spaz within the Professor for he is plagued with every available muscle spasm known to man while he is sleeping.
The Professor is a spastic mess but God love him he just doesn’t get how very disturbing of your sleep it is when someone has a hold of your body part and his hand starts spasming so bad, you feel as if the body part is going to brutally, repeatedly, rapidly be squeezed the hell off. I mean the “girls” have had it with the spastic handling and keep telling me that they are going on strike if a certain someone doesn’t get a cure for his spasms and I have to agree with them as I am incorporating the rapid squeezings into my dreams and these dreams are turning really weird.
One night, the Professor had his hand on my belly and the spaz kicked in and I dreamed that I was having another baby! It freaked me out so bad, I woke up with a start thinking, “Oh hell, I’m too damn old for another baby!”
I was sleeping on my side just the other night and the Professor had his hand resting on my butt cheek when the spaz kicked in and I dreamed a man at the grocery store had my butt cheek in his hand and I turned around and slapped him.
And on another night, the Professor had his hand on my forehead, I was unaware of this one at the time, when the rapid spastic squeezing started and the Professor almost poked my eyes out as his fingers were right near them. He did end up knocking off one of my eyelash strips and I was pissed.
The other thing the Professor does is the restless leg thing but not just in one leg, in both. Yay me! The only good thing is his restless leg thing is very mild and he’s not flailing all over the place like my two crazy friends did when I was younger.
If I am woken up by a spastic rapidly squeezing hand, I take the hand off of my body part and give it back to him and you know what he does . . . . as if he is a magnet and my body is metal, he grunts and returns his hand or hands back where they were prior. I’m not kidding. I cannot get this man’s hands off of me!
Now the other night I had one of the spastic hands on my person right over my left ribcage where I broke three ribs years ago and they will forever be tender I have discovered. Spaz boy turned into Spaz-Scissor Hands as he had apparently not trimmed his nails in a bit and gouged the hell out of my left ribcage made worse by the tender that is always there. That was it, I slapped his hand, then threw it off of me, sat straight up in bed, turned to him, and said, “You get your damn spastic hands off of me or I’m building a wall up between us right here in the bed. You just scratched the shit outta me!” And do you know what the Professor says?
“Keep calm and love my spaz, babie!”
What the hell?
So, I am now wearing armor and it seems to be working quite well and sometimes if the Professor has those long ass nails, he gets a start when he scratches the armor having another spaz attack and it sounds just like the nails on a chalkboard and man if he doesn’t stop immediately. It’s quite something!!
The only reason I have not cut his hands off is because I love him, and that is the only reason people because I need my damn sleep and I need my body parts to stay intact and my skin to not be scratched up like I’ve gotten in a fight with a damn rose bush.
I’m still wrestling with his spastic hands each night but at least those spastic hands are on me, right?
Love y’all . . . love you too, Professor!!♥
