Sleep Cat-Retrieval?

So some­thing weird hap­pened Mon­day night, and I kept mean­ing to post about it and did­n’t get around to doing so.

To pref­ace, because of fibromyal­gia, I take pret­ty strong med­i­cine at bed­time to help me sleep, Ambi­en. With­in about 30 min­utes of tak­ing the stuff, I am pret­ty much OUT for the night. I will con­tin­ue to be out until I wake up in the morn­ing, any­where from 8–10 hours lat­er. If I am awak­ened before my body decides that it’s time to get up, I get a nasty migraine.

Appar­ent­ly, I have had con­ver­sa­tions with sam­bear in the evenings and morn­ings at times, with absolute­ly no mem­o­ry of them lat­er because I was­n’t tru­ly awake.

Mon­day night, we were in bed and I was quite def­i­nite­ly out. Katie keeps her blinds open a lit­tle at times and can see the cul-de-sac and some of our front yard and dri­ve­way from her bed. Obvi­ous­ly, she was wake­ful and bored that night. She saw a car dri­ve up and park in front of our house, and two men get out car­ry­ing what looked like lawn-sized trash bags. They walked into our dri­ve and back around the house and did­n’t come back.

So Katie gets up and wakes sam­bear, who takes a look around, can’t find these guys, looks at the car, and decides to call the police. A cop came in about two min­utes and inves­ti­gat­ed, but could­n’t find where these guys had gone either. It was extreme­ly weird.

While sam­bear was out­side talk­ing to the cop, Shel­ley (the cat) got out. He could­n’t catch her, and he would­n’t let Katie (still wake­ful and up to see what was hap­pen­ing) go out to try because she was wear­ing a sleep shirt. And sud­den­ly I appeared, ful­ly dressed (right down to sneakers—which I hard­ly ever wear), and went out to get the cat. sam­bear says he tried to stop me because I was “som­no­lent” and he was afraid I’d fall down the stairs, and I mum­bled some­thing at him and went out anyway.

Appar­ent­ly, I did retrieve Shel­ley, came inside, went back to the bed­room, undressed, and fell back into the bed.

I don’t remem­ber ANY of this stuff. Tues­day morn­ing, we were get­ting ready to go on the Girl Scout trip. Shel­ley walked by and I sud­den­ly remem­bered what I thought had been a dream, of her walk­ing ahead of me, just out of my reach, through a very shad­ed out­door area. I remem­bered being struck by how well her tor­tie col­or­ing blend­ed in with the leaves and pine straw and shad­ows and knew that if she want­ed to lose me she could do so eas­i­ly. I men­tioned the dream, and sam­bear turned around and said “No, that was real.” Huh? So then he told me about what had hap­pened the night before.

That’s just too strange. Unre­mem­bered con­ver­sa­tions I can han­dle. But get­ting ful­ly dressed and going out­side to chase a cat, and not remem­ber­ing it? That’s way weird.