Last night was interesting for Abby and me. I got in trouble, and she slept on the couch. Yes, that is what happened. No, it’s not a typo, and no, it wasn’t in that order. The weirdest part is that we both agreed in the morning that I was not at fault. I’ll just leave that glorious sentence there for all to observe. I know it’s cliche, but we’re experiencing a once in a lifetime event, and you should be appreciating it too.
Before I tell you what happened, you need some background information. (If you want to skip to the story itself, go ahead. Scroll on down to where you see the bolded headline “Ian or Gabe?” and read from there. You’re not missing too much up here, I promise. In fact, did you know that when you read articles online, you never get the juiciest information up front because the author gets paid for ad time? The longer you’re on the page, the more they can sell your eyeballs. Yeah. Direct profits aren’t derived from the product of their creative ingenuity, it’s you! Your attention is the product! I don’t have ads on this page, I’m just a monkey seeing and doing.)
Wow, who let the cynic with the trade secrets out? Anyway, bringing medicine into your life is like adopting a puppy that never ages. For the most part you love it. You have to, but it demands your attention in ways and at hours you’d never imagine possible. For instance, the sentence “I brought puppies/medicine into my life, so I had to clean up a mess on the floor at 2:48 AM” makes sense no matter which you apply. Additionally, we have to cordon off certain aspects of our life from medicine, or else we can’t do them. Puppy/medicine isn’t allowed to join us for Ted Lasso, or else we’ll wind up missing a quarter of the dialog and have to watch it again.
For the better part of a week, Abby has been fighting a cold. I haven’t gotten it because I have the immune system of a billion antibodies, the drive of a rabid rabbit, and the strength of 1000 mg of vitamin C. Abby only has the billion antibodies and vitamin C, so clearly this affliction was inevitable.
Ian or Gabe?
Congratulations. You made it. I awoke at 4 AM (I’m told), and needed to relieve myself. I gingerly pulled the covers back, cautious to not wake my wife who needs sleep to recover. Before I realize why, my forehead hurt. As it turns out, the bedroom door was closed, and I’d nearly broken it down with my crown. Even though it was not closed when we fell asleep, I don’t recognize the inconsistency, and continue to stumble toward the bathroom. At this point I’m jolted awake by a cough and simple “Hi.”
I ask the shadow what she’s doing on the couch, and her disdainful response was “I couldn’t see the little guy, so I came out here because I was coughing too much.”
I had questions. With the grace of a baby elephant I blurt “Who?” and frantically scan the apartment.
Here’s where our stories diverge, I remember her mentioning that she was supposed to see Gabe. Abby thinks the little guy’s name was Ian.
I’m not sure if anyone’s ever left the warm embrace of their bed in the middle of the night before, but it’s not something you do because you have time to kill on an investigation. So I rushed to the bathroom, simultaneously looking for Chucky dolls and hallucinogens in the dark. I returned to find Abby had returned to bed, and I had serious follow up questions.
By this point, I thought Abby had woken up more, but she couldn’t tell me who Ian/Gabe was, which made me more concerned. She just knew she couldn’t see him, and it was making her upset. My continued questions didn’t help, and she became increasingly frustrated by my lack of understanding. Eventually, she gave me the cold shoulder and huffed as she returned to sleep. By this point, I had a general understanding of what was going on, that she was in some kind of Westworld-esque dual reality dreamscape, yet when I braved sleep again, it was facing the door.
The morning after
Typically, a heading like this is reserved for some kind of disastrous fallout. However, I have good news to report. It turns out that a future version of Abby called “Gabian” had reached through an interdimensional cheesecake to deliver the solution to climate change. We’re saved!
In all seriousness, Abby awoke to tell me she believed she was working last night, and I’m hugely encouraged by this. Not only because I regained faith in my hearing, but because Abby was upset about the fact she couldn’t see Gabe/Ian. Becoming a future physician is really difficult. At this point it’s invading our sleep. However, she was truly distraught about her inability to provide for someone who needed her. That commitment and lingering distaste of failure tell me that she is exactly where she is supposed to be, invasions and all.