Asher and Stacey’s Magnificent Road Trip

Soon the night became rocky. Asher woke up almost once an hour. What else is new? This is my life. This is his life. This is our lives intertwined probably for all of eternity. How could I expect it to change just because we were on a “vacay”? I remembered listening to a commercial on the radio about a condition known as “Non-24” during my usual ninety-minute to two-hour drive to work. This is a medical condition that is experienced by blind persons who are unable to sleep soundly throughout the night. In essence, their circadian rhythm is all disturbed because of their blindness. I realize that Asher is not completely blind, but he is severely visually impaired. Nevertheless, Asher’s sleep is disturbed just like other blind persons’ sleep. At home, Mark and I typically tag team each other throughout the night. One of us gets up whenever Asher groans “Mmmmmmmmm” and sometimes “Mommmm.” Whenever Asher groans “Mmmmmmmmm” or says “Mommmm,” I am the one who gets up because he had articulately said my name, and I want to reward him for that. Otherwise, the person who is least tired (which does not mean that each of us is not exhausted) tends to Asher, whether it is turning over one of his pillows (he likes them cold), changing his pillow (sometimes he likes it firm, sometimes he likes it soft), putting the blanket over his shoulder (this is frequent), adding another blanket (he likes pressure), rolling him more on his left side, changing his undergarment because it’s wet, changing his undergarment and bedding because both are wet, getting his drink within his arm’s reach (as he sometimes throws it “overboard”), getting another drink (because he already drank his two watered-down juices and is still thirsty), increasing the TV volume, lowering the TV volume, and then strangely enough, turning the TV off and on repeatedly, and occasionally, when his closet door is ajar, sliding it until it is closed. When it comes to Asher’s TV fixation, sometimes my husband loses it and says, “No elevators this weekend! I mean it!” But that never works. Asher wants his television turned off and on until he decides that he’s had enough and/or falls back asleep. There are just a lot of Asher’s idiosyncratic needs that occur throughout the night. In essence, Asher is the epitome of a multiply-handicapped person with obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) if there is such a concept or need for a picture of an actual person with such challenges in a psychiatric diagnostic manual. For example, aside from wanting the TV on and off repeatedly, Asher can also be OCD about his pillows. First it has to be the firm one and then it has to be changed to the soft one, and then it’s back to the firm one again, but a second later, it’s the soft one. At some point, Mark pleads, “PLEASE, ASHER! LET ME SLEEP!” Just when Mark becomes a little too angry, I’ll take over, even if I was the one who got up the time or two before. Admittedly, there are times when I’m dead as a piece of wood and Mark is the one who had gotten up. There are also times when I could swear that Mark is delusional when he says, “I got up the last three times.” Since I sleep so soundly, I wouldn’t really know if this was true or not. However, since I am sure that I did get up a few times, I will get up once more because of a lack of reliable data or a sound verification process. Recently I realized that I was the one getting up, starting at 1:40 a.m., until about 4:00 a.m., and Mark was the one getting up most often between 4:00 and 6:30 a.m. I learned this because one day Mark announced that Asher usually wakes up at 4:00 a.m. “Oh no he doesn’t!” I said definitively. I proceeded to educate Mark about my self-imposed 1:30 a.m. wake-up call in anticipation of Asher’s own self-imposed 1:40 a.m. wake-up call. Nevertheless, the truth of the matter is, Mark and I are not getting deep, restorative, and continuous sleep. Now we know why sleeping through the night, going to the bathroom without interruptions, and taking long, hot showers are pure luxuries, at least for us and, of course, those in third-world countries and the poor and homeless here in the United States of America. You may wonder why I go to great lengths to meet Asher’s myriad of nighttime requests. You see, I feel that I owe it to him, because if he could, he would do all the things that I described for himself, and I wouldn’t even know it because I’d be in deep slumber. Obviously, Asher is not able to, and based on a mother’s love and guilt, I want to help him. After all, if I were in his situation, I would want a mom just like me. Finally, I drifted off to sleep, but while getting past the alpha-wave stage, I silently pleaded, “Please, Asher, let me sleep…” But then my eyes cracked open. A shadow shifted before me in the direction of the bathroom. I was groggy and wondered if I was still dreaming. I heard the door shut and then a moment later, the shower blasted on. I peered toward the bathroom and saw the light through the sliver of space between the door and the terra-cotta tile. I could see a shadow moving about, the sound of the shower curtain swishing to and fro, and some changes of pressure from the shower blasts. I panicked. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I was now wide-awake and sure that there was someone in my hotel room! I surprised myself and bravely moved toward the bathroom door. As I slowly opened the door, I deciphered the form of a fit young adult male figure through the opaqueness of the shower curtain. I moved toward the shower. Why am I so brave? I silently asked myself. I paused for a brief moment to catch my breath and then took one more step forward. Who is this young man showering in my hotel room? I reached out and swiftly grabbed the curtain. With one abrupt movement, I swished it to the side. This handsome showering man looked directly into my shocked eyes and smiled. I couldn’t believe who it. It was…Asher. My Asher! He was standing perfectly straight up in the shower on his own two solid legs. “Asher?” I whispered in disbelief. When will I wake up? I wondered. “Aw, Mom! Close the shower curtain. This is so embarrassing!” he said with a self-conscious smile. With one forceful swoop, Asher swished the shower curtain past my stunned face. I pleaded to God, Stop this! How could you be so cruel? In both life and dream?