So, a week and a half ago, I bought a new bed. I’d been sleeping in my old bed — the first real bed I actually bought, back during my first marriage. That old bed was very sturdy and it worked just fine… except for the lumps and valleys here and there. Where it wasn’t buckling and uneven, it gave me really good, comfortable support, so (like many other things in my life), I “worked around” the peaks and valleys, and found a combination that let me sleep.
My sleep was okay, I guess. I was just so used to the unevenness, that I trained myself to arrange my body for the most comfortable position(s). And since my spouse and I sleep in separate rooms (we have for over 5 years, and it was the best thing we’d done for each other in a long time), I could stretch out pretty much any way I chose.
Except that I couldn’t. Because the bed was so uneven.
Anyway, a week and a half ago, I bit the bullet and went out and bought a new bed. I got it at a reputable furniture place, where they had a whole “sleep science” section, complete with a computer that measured where your weight was distributed and then recommended a certain type of mattress for you. I knew what brand I wanted — Sealy Posturepedic — and I knew I did NOT want a pillow-top, because I feel like I’m being smothered, and I can’t move in them.
The salesperson who helped me was very keen on making sure I got the right mattress. I told them I can’t do a pillow-top, and I tried out a couple of options before I settled on a very firm one that had a foam top. I had my reservations about the foam, and I said so, but the salesperson reassured me that it was designed to support my back and keep it straight the whole night long. They said the way we sleep is all wrong, and our backs aren’t supported, so we develop back problems. Logically, it made sense to me. And the computer graphic made a very convincing point.
I had my reservations, but lying on the bed in the store, it felt pretty much okay. At least, I thought it did, under the circumstances. And the circumstances were not ideal to be making a big decision. I was tired from not having slept enough the night before, having gotten up early and driven around and run a bunch of errands all morning. The store was huge and overwhelming, the lighting made it hard for me to see, and there were a lot of people milling around. I was on overload, and I wasn’t handling the environment all that great.
But I had to get a bed. I had gone to the store to do so, and by God, I was going to do it. The mattress felt better than others I’d tried. Anyway, even if it did feel a little “off”, the salesperson told me the bed would “break in” over the course of a couple of weeks, before it started to feel like “my bed”. I would also need to rotate it, periodically, but I couldn’t flip it, because the foam was only on one side.
I just wanted to get out of there, really. And I figured I had to trust someone. So I took the salesperson’s word for it, and I shelled out about twice as much money as I was planning to. But I figured it was money well spent — I know I need to get better sleep, so this was an investment in that quest.
You get what you pay for, right? That was my thinking, anyway.
The mattress was delivered before the week was out, and I was really happy to have a new bed. It felt kind of strange to see my original bed hauled away so unceremoniously, because I’ve probably spent more time with it, over the course of the past 25 years, than with any other person or thing in my life. It’s also done more for me, than 90% of the people (and things) I’ve had in my life. It seemed somehow… ungrateful… to just bag it up and haul it away to end up on a trash heap somewhere. But so it goes.
Once I had my new bed in place, with its new mattress protector and clean sheets and blankets in place, I was really excited. So, as I often do when I’m happy to be headed for bed, I jumped on top — and did not bounce. My landing was buffered by the foam top, which stopped my motion and absorbed the weight of my jump.
I wasn’t used to that. I’m used to a bounce. I like the bounce.
I lay down and tried a number of different positions — side — back — other side — stomach — and it still felt weird. Okay, I thought, I have to break this thing in. It’s going to take a few weeks before it starts to feel normal.
So, I gave it time.
And more time.
And more time.
And the only thing that seems to have happened, is I’ve pressed yet another trough into my bed — but this time the trough is padded, and I can’t roll out of it, because the foam blocks me. I literally cannot move, when I’m down in the trough that’s been pressed into the foam for five hours by my motionless body. When I wake up at 3 a.m. in pain, I can’t just roll over and find a more comfortable position, because the foam has molded to my body shape, and instead of rolling across a gentle plain, I’m climbing mountains, trying to get out.
And my torso is lower than my legs. Which means my back is torqued. And if I roll on my side, my legs are angled up, higher than my body, which screws up my hips. And my neck and shoulders… don’t even get me started. The one saving grace is that I didn’t let the salesperson “measure” me for a new pillow. Please. Who does that? The lower and flatter and firmer my pillow is, the better. I’ve tried custom fitted ones, and they do not work for me.
Holy crap. Not only have I spent a buttload of money (“buttload” has nothing to do with your ass, by the way — A butt is actually a traditional unit of volume that is used for wines and other alcoholic beverages. A butt is defined to be 2 hogsheads, which in the US is 63 gallons. There- you’ve learned something new today) — but I spent all that money on something that’s even worse than the original that I replaced.
Okay, so maybe I could return the mattress. It’s been nearly two weeks, and I’ve figured out by now that I cannot handle this soft-top mattress. Like I told the salesperson, I can’t do pillow-tops, and the soft top makes me feel terrible. Even if it’s not a pillow-top, having that foam top on the mattress keeps me from moving around and getting more comfortable. In the case that I’m in pain — which is frequently — I need to readjust my position, so I can sleep.
I got my receipt and warranty information, but when I read about the return policy, it said there was a 7-day limit on returns. And I was on Day 10. Oh. That’s not good. From what I read in the paperwork, I was stuck with this bed. Like it or not. Comfortable or not.
It’s been screwing with my sleep in a very big way. First of all, I haven’t been sleeping through the night, every single night. When I sleep through, I’m fine. But when I wake up at 3 a.m. — like today — I can’t get comfortable. I cannot just roll over and go back to sleep. I cannot just roll over, period. Because I’m sunk down into the foam, and it’s not giving to make room for me.
And then, on top of it, I start beating myself up, because I let that damn’ salesperson talk me into buying that bed, against my own better judgment. And I get upset because I spent so much money, and I don’t have the money to replace it. And I didn’t check the warranty soon enough, and I trusted a salesperson (of all people). Which all just keeps me awake. Even if I could get comfortable on the bed — which I can’t — my spinning head would keep me up.
Anyway, this morning after spinning my wheels for several hours, it occurred to me that maybe I could flip the mattress and put the foam side down. If it’s a hybrid mattress with springs on the inside and foam on the top, then maybe I could flip it over and sleep on the coil side.
So, at 5 a.m., that’s what I did. Pulled the blankets and sheets and mattress cover off it, and flipped it over on the box spring. And lo and behold, it seems to work. I might just have mattress I can sleep on. It’s firm like I need it, and it’s level. It also has a little bounce, and I can roll around on it and get comfortable like I need to. I’m not out all that money with no viable options, and I don’t have to send a nastygram to the salesperson to see if they’ll take it back… or list my mattress on Craigslist… or see if anyone I know wants it. I can keep what I bought. And if the surface gets a little too hard for me, I can find a pad to put down that won’t suck me into a trough that contorts me all out of whack.
This is good. I figured it out. I don’t have to suffer, I don’t have to make the best of it. I don’t have to go ballistic. I don’t have to beat myself up and come up with Plan B. I have options, and with a little creative thinking and flexibility, I’ll figure something out. I usually do.
And with that, it’s time to get on with my day.