My daughter almost killed me in my sleep (‘night terror’)

 My daughter almost killed me in my sleep the other day.

However I may never know how close I actually was. At the time though, it felt like I was a goner.

If you ever had what’s referred to as a “night terror”, it was a similar experience, and I’ve only ever had one. It’s a feeling of being in an unconscious state between dreaming and waking, where you are perfectly aware of what’s going on around you, and you want to wake up or do something, but you can’t, and you keep thinking about it, but you still can’t. The one previous time it did happen to me I was sleeping in the back of a van while on a road trip, I could hear all my buddies yakking and I wanted to get up, but I COULD NOT.  

Parasomnia, as it's otherwise known, is a cousin of sleepwalking, and for some reason, the authors here don't recommend waking up someone in this or that state.  (Why the hell not?)

The setting: Lazy weekend afternoon, watching retro cartoons on YouTube with my young daughter who came into the room after I had just started dozing off.

I was sleeping on my left side, facing the wall, under a big down comforter and the phone was not far from my arm with all the retro cartoons playing quietly. (Laser blast sounds and robots hurling threats at each other.)

She thought it would be comfortable, I guess, to rest her head and chin in the valley across my neck for ideal viewing, and I can’t be sure for how long she was there.

I suppose I was happy she had visited but I became aware that something was very wrong as well. I could feel the pressure on my neck and in that dreamlike state where you don’t really know what is what, I thought that I needed to take conscious action to tell her to move or just to move myself. And with each passing moment I felt like my ability to communicate, to return through the tunnel to the world of the awake was slipping.

Could I just utter the word “Stop!” or “Move!” or “Help!” And that weight became heavier and heavier and I wasn't sure if I’d ever make it out. In fact, I am not sure if this was a real emergency, or I was just dreaming that it was, but I assure you that at the time I couldn't tell the difference.  I did some reading up on asphyxia and the arteries in the sides of the neck, and the pillow side had a support hump in it, and of course her weight was adding pressure to both sides.  

After a few long, terrifyingly helpless moments of this, I just thought, “Let go, there’s nothing that can be done.”

Then I immediately woke up and said, "No." She got off.  And I lived to see another day.

"Idea sandwich"

 I entered the dim room, curtains drawn, just before lunch and sat near the wooden conference table, more an observer than participant.  It was still morning and nobody seemed awake, so I was glad nobody turned on the glaring fluorescent overhead lights. The boss, whose presence alone commanded your attention, begrudgingly squeezed us into his schedule for a few precious moments before he would get underway for a more important meeting, with "more important people" from some external entity.   

One of the younger staff members had a notion to prepare all the information we would give into an idea sandwich. That way, the boss could quickly scarf down the sum of all its parts and begone with no questions and no need for ponderous idle time. We didn't so much agree as we avoided dissent. There were only ten minutes left, and as the saying goes, "If you're late, you're dead." Conveniently there was a small galley a.k.a. coffee mess adjoining the room, and we went to work with hands flying and butter knives slapping on the sauce.

The boss came in, sat down at the head of the table, took one look at his sandwich and removed the carefully wrapped plastic cover (it was in some sort of convoluted layered triangular plastic sleeve) , lifted off the top slice of whitebread, glanced at the heavy mayo and loosely assembled shredded vegetables, closed it, and paused.

With his hands together and his brow furrowing he asked, "Was all this really necessary? You could have just told me what you wanted to say."