I have traveled to Oregon, for the next few weeks. Unlike previous stays at Juli and Keith’s house, I’m Arthur’s actual roommate here, this time – there are more limited options for one’s own space, these days, here (for those who are unfamiliar, Arthur is my elderly uncle, who has dementia and for whom I am a caretaker).
It’s noisy at night here, compared to at home. I had difficulty sleeping. Dogs bark all night, roosters start the day at 2 AM, neighbor people are talking outside of their houses and you can hear them, late at night. Being Arthur’s roommate is noisy too: he doesn’t actually snore, but he falls asleep with his audiobook playing into his ears at maximum volume (because he’s almost completely deaf at this point and somehow he derives some comfort from this cacaphony). It’s disconcerting to hear the story right on the edge of comprehensibility, like a television blaring in the next room. It’s probably just a soft background noise, for him. And he’s a restless sleeper (just as he’s often quite restless when awake, with all kinds of OCD-adjacent repetitive movements and tics). He noisily turns in the covers every few minutes. He farts and belches loudly in his sleep, too, and mutters softly to himself, things like ‘oh fuck’ and ‘shit!’ I feel like I’m rooming with Sancho Panza. I already knew all these things, but at home, with him being in his own room, I can somewhat dismiss it – it doesn’t effect me, he’s far enough away from where I’m sleeping that it doesn’t bother me, but I can still be tuned in if something goes wrong (eg one of his late night / early morning falls, as the most common example).
