Life or Death, part II

I had insomnia, resulting in my getting up at 5 A.M., and once again my tiny runt was in shock. I ran through the drill (corn syrup on gums, subcutaneous fluids, heat up the warming pad), and fed the other kittens as well. Sometime after six I fell asleep on the couch, which caused Iris to cross-examine me.

"Where did you sleep?"

"Upstairs, in the big bed."

"Then why were you here?"

Later, after I told the Sober Husband he had woken me up by raising his voice at Lola, Iris said ominously, "So you admit you were asleep on the couch."

Where I sleep is meaningless, at least to me. The fact I sleep, even the small amount I do, is troublesome. That runt can't currently make it between the last night feed and the morning feed without going into shock. I may need to set an alarm for two or three A.M. I can't face that prospect, given how tenuous my relationship is with sleep, but it seems there's a tiny life hanging on it. Sigh.