A little something on the side

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They say the grass is greener on the other side.

A couple of weeks ago, lying awake in bed and failing -- for the zillionth time -- to find a comfortable position, I decided I couldn't care less what color the grass was, as long as "the other side" would help me sleep.

My post-op instructions clearly stated I was not to lie on my operated side for eight weeks. For four weeks, I fought the urge, all the while knowing with every fiber of my being that if I could only flip over, all would be right with the world.

Then one night I awoke on the forbidden side, having subconsciously changed positions in the night. Feeling a little sore -- and guilty -- I promptly switched to my back, telling myself it wouldn't happen again.

But I had already glimpsed paradise, and I knew in my heart I couldn't go back. The next night, I tenderly made my way to my right side and discovered I had been right: It was true bliss. I promptly fell asleep, and then changed positions after about an hour when I started to hurt.

Though I'm ignoring doctor's orders, I'm mentally comfortable lying on my side as long as I'm physically comfortable. My tailbone pain makes sleeping on my back and left side difficult, so I don't have a lot of options.

Besides, it feels damn good to get a little something on the side.

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