At exactly 1:38 this morning, some mysterious and formless assailant crept into my bedroom, grabbed my left leg and stabbed me repeatedly with a stiletto. Every muscle in the back of my calf bunched and it felt like the stiletto was twisted around and around, like winding spaghetti onto a fork.
Without being aware that I was doing it, I started to scream. I have quite a set of pipes on me. I screamed while trying to get out of the bed, out of the sheets wound around me, away from the cats that just didn't understand the disturbance.
I finally made it out of bed and saw that my heel was pulled up and back about three inches. I stopped screaming, but each time I tried to gently stretch out the spasm, it went back into that fist-sized knot.
This is the leg I hurt last summer. My first wake-up-screaming episode was in September, 2009. This was only the second one, but I have to say, I'm not a fan. I wonder if there's some sort of scarring on the muscle - not that I even know that this can happen - and wonder if surgery could keep it from happening again.
Weirdly, I would be afraid that the surgery would go awry somehow. And hope that it would, somehow. And at the same time, realize that were my perverse wishes to come true, these muscle spasms would likely be a part of it.
The screams in the night bother. But they don't.
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