Separate Beds
15 December

One of the horrid memories I have of my disfunctional relationship with Richard is the way that he would insist on sleeping in a separate bed if we had had an argument.

This happened mostly when we were staying or living at his place. Twenty/twenty hindsight is, of course, delightfully perceptive and clear. However, in retrospect, I do see that it would have been a very good ploy to buy him time on his own so that he could drink. Having me around constantly must have really gotten in the way of his drinking patterns.

Nevertheless, something that I have brought forward into my relationship with Ross has been the proposition that we always sleep together no matter what the background troubles we are facing. I think that this has been good for us.

Of late, however, we have had to compromise on this proposition.

The root cause goes back eighteen months. Ross has always snored. However, eighteen months ago, the snoring became a little more pervasive and began to intrude on my sleep. For I while I endured and then I had to say something. We tried a number of remedies including resorting to the use of earplugs. Other methods I had used were shouting at him and shaking him awake.

Then, earlier this year and unreported in this Journal, I asked Ross to take medical advice about the severity of his snoring. Even with earplugs, the noise was still waking me and I felt as though I was beginning to suffer from sleep deprivation.

Well, Ross was referred to a variety of clinics. They did tests and, for one of them, they loaned him a monitoring machine which he had to strap onto his body so that it could record his breathing patterns and test oxygenation of the blood supply and various things.

Anyhow, there are various types of snoring apparently. Ross has the really complex sort - oh, why aren't I at all surprised?! For two periods of about three hours every night, Ross goes into a very deep sleep and, at this point, the muscles in his throat relax to the point where his breathing is impeded. The monitoring device recorded that he actually stops breathing about eighteen times an hour during that phase of his sleeping cycle. The snoring is Ross's attempts to get oxygen into his lungs.

So, sometime in the new year, there will be further consultations and decisions will be taken as to what to do next. One proposal already on the table is surgery. This is quite major surgery which will attempt to reshape Ross's throat. This sounds drastic to me although, as Ross points out, it is not as drastic as stopping breathing. However, I just have this feeling that surgeons are always very quick to suggest surgery as the best course of action.

I'd like to know if Ross's abundant medications are playing a part in this. Maybe a change of medication would stop the collapse through relaxation of Ross's throat muscles. Maybe he can do something to strengthen the muscles themselves. Would vocal therapy help? It would certainly be cheaper than surgery.

Anyhow, for the present, I have a real need of sleep. So, as a sort of compromise, Ross and I go to bed together but, if he wakes me up with his snoring, I go to the spare bedroom immediately so that I've got a sporting chance of going back to sleep. And, so far, it's working.

I've got a bitch of a lead up to Christmas at work and I can't do it on only four or five hours of sleep a night. After talking things over with a number of colleagues, they've all said that what's currently being asked of the training staff is madness in terms of its lack of focus and brutal lack of time management. So, with encouragement, I've written up my thoughts and handed them in as a suggestion through the official channels. I don't suppose for a minute that much will happen but at least I now feel as though I've had my say.

Going back a week, I had a real tear-in-the-eye moment at school when one of the little mites in the class I work with ran up to me and plonked a Christmas card in my hand. I really was close to filling up. A lot of the day was spent in rehearsing for the end of term concert so little work was done.

The following day I took a trip into Liverpool to do some Christmas shopping and I was very successful in getting what I wanted. Given that I'm leaving everything very late this year, I don't appear to be experiencing too many upsets.

I lunched at the Walker and then took in the Bridget Riley exhibition. I'd been looking forwards to this show since it was announced a year ago. I like her work and I have done since student days. It is bright, it is bold, it is clear and it is enjoyable. Beyond that, however, I am not sure that there is much to say. Yes, there is admirable technical skill in selecting the grid patterns and the colours with which they are filled. What, ultimately, I miss is a sense of spirit. But I enjoyed the show nevertheless.

Earlier this year, I went to New Radicals: From Sickert to Freud at the Walker and was bowled over by the quality of a show that comprised works from the general collection which a seldom on view. The Rise of Women Artists in the next gallery to the Bridget Riley show was similarly formed. Whilst I do not believe that the quality of work was as good as the first show (and I really don't think that this has anything to do with gender particularly), it was still interesting and illuminating. It's on until March next year so I may go again sometime.

Back in work, I took my charges through a few sessions on interview techniques. It's one of life's great ironies that these sessions are thought to be among the best of the programme and yet the new premises do not have a room which I can use which is fit for purpose. Another indication so far as I am concerned as to the lack of interest shown by senior management in training in general.

Sunday brought a very pleasant Children's meeting at Quakers about the Christmas story. Two of the older children were there and some of the more disruptive younger ones weren't so we took things at a much different level and pace trying to work out what was truth, what was myth and did it matter if we could never know what actually happened.

The following day I took chocolates for the school children and helped them with computer stuff in the morning. The afternoon was give over to rehearsal at a local mission. The kids sounded well and the concert will no doubt leave many a parent feeling moist. It will now be the second week in January before I shall see them all again.

I've spent today writing cards and doing some compilation CDs as presents for various people. I still don't know that I feel very Christmassy.