Agony At 2 A.M.

Agony At 2 A.M.

Frank bolted out of bed. It was terrifying and if he didn't catch it in time it would be unbelievably painful—leg cramps, not the common garden variety charlie horse in the calf, but the agonizing all out foot to knee shin cramp. How a person could possible get a cramp in the shin he didn't know, but when they took hold it was like a force from another world. These cramps had a mind of their own bent on causing the worst possible pain while you were still conscious and then becoming so excruciating you got a cold sweat and—passed out.

All the screams and moans were of no avail, just an impotent release of anger against these vicious devils. With his feet elevated in bed for several hours the blood flow changed and he was at risk. Just like his mother who'd had trouble with her legs, terrible throbbing and cramps, he guessed it was part of his inheritance.

Frank's worst attack happened the week before. The night of the day his father returned from the hospital, perhaps the emotional strain and worry stored up inside and—BAM—full-tilt cramp attack up both shins. He'd been on his way to pee at 2 am when it hit, intense pain to the point of passing out and a few seconds later waking up on the carpet in a pool of urine. You feel such heavenly relief the few moments you're unconscious, no pain, then you wake up wondering what you're doing on the floor. Frank had stood up and immediately a second attack hit, he passed out again, this time landing on the opposite hip. Next day both hips were a sore reminder of the night before.

Now he was holding the top of a chair by the desk, slowly raising the heels up staying on his toes, sometimes this helped. The trick was breathing deeply, getting as much oxygen into your system as you could, pray the blood flow increased in the legs and gently manipulate the feet so they were kept diverted enough not to fully lock into the cramp. Sometimes if you rubbed the cramp in a downwards motion towards the foot it helped and sometimes it didn't matter what you did—game over.

He tried to take a few steps around the bed, so far so good, the cramp was on the verge of committing itself but not quite yet. If he could just stall that commitment he might stand a chance of avoiding it altogether. Walking carefully along the carpet, sliding into his slippers in the corner, then he went forward, gently, towards the hallway. Don't step on the piece between the door frame he thought, it squeaks, it might disturb dad. Now down the hallway, easy boy, easy, a night light in the living room and another from the kitchen illuminating the way.

Frank saw his dad sleeping in the recliner chair, a blanket over top, holding a small transistor radio to his ear, a news channel could be faintly heard. His father was unable to sleep in a bed anymore, needed to be in a sitting position with his legs elevated. A bad heart value, swallowing and breathing difficulties, this position was key to his comfort and safety.

Reaching the bathroom, Frank moved silently. With the door open he held the frame lowering himself on the toilet seat. He'd been sitting to urinate since a back injury a decade ago. He aimed and tried to hit the porcelain, not the water, got to keep the noise down...success! Now comes the moment of truth, could he stand without the cramps hitting both legs at the same time?

If he used his leg muscles to get up they would take their cue and—pain city. Instead he grabbed the door frame again and used it for leverage, the other hand pushed up from the counter by the sink, slowly he raised himself with a minimum of effort from the legs. Not bad he thought, I just might make it, but don't get cocky, you're not out of the woods yet.

Back in the bedroom he did a little slow and gentle pacing back and forth to make sure the legs had settled down. Reaching for his handkerchief, blowing his nose, then the back scratcher on the nightstand for an itch or two he couldn't reach and he was ready to crawl back in bed. Hopefully he would get another couple hours sleep before the next bathroom trip and even more hopefully before those cramps returned. If he slept any longer the likelihood of them coming on with force was almost certain. As terrifying as it could be, he was never afraid or worried about the next attack. There was something intimate and stimulating, even if in a troubling way, about these nocturnal episodes.

In the quiet of night he was undergoing this intense physical experience, which he strongly suspected was linked to the emotional life, since the worst attacks came around the time of emotional turmoil. Wilhelm Reich called it, “undischarged energy in the body.” Years back a therapist warned him about his legs being full of trapped emotional energy. So this was their way of discharging it. As he sat down the bed the springs gave a little creak, he paused a moment, waited, then carefully slid his legs under the covers.