Wednesday, July 13, 2016


Before I went to the gymnasium yesterday morning two large black cockatooes landed on the tree in my courtyard and proceeded to tear off pieces of bark. Walking in that artic wind was horrific and if it was 10C degrees it certainly felt like it was below freezing.
Leonie is back from Tasmania so we had lunch out of the severe cold and wind in a large bistro at the corner of Nicholson Street and then she accommpanied me to my appointment with the Sleep Unit at St. Vincent's hospital. After hour an hour waiting in an overheated waiting room (I had to strip down to my last layer of clothing), I was finally told by the neurologist that I was a parasomniac, meaning that I sometimes act out my dreams. Since the dreams are benign and I rarely hurt myself, I don't have to go through having to sleep overnight at the unit with EEG attached to my head.
Leonie and I had taken the lift up the six floors, which made me quite ill, so we walked the six flights down and headed over to Victoria's Secret that little coffee shop hidden behind a hedgerow in Victoria Street. She showed me some amazing old world collars she made using crochet and gave me a little book she'd crochetted right years ago. Here's an example of some of the pages.

More early appointments today and Friday so I'll be wearing five layers of clothing, plus beanie and gloves. Keep warm and happy folks.


  1. Being parasomniac must be genetic. Sheridan has it, she sits up in bed when asleep or walks around the room asleep.

  2. I have sleep apnea and have had a CPAP machine for the last 18 months, which is helpful.

  3. Neurologist said that since my dreams are benign & I've had few episodes & nor hurt myself badly going sleep study not required unless something changes. Genetic? Maybe. Its stress related.