In the middle of the night I pulled my sleep mask from my eyes and stared at the ceiling into the darkness. It was just after three o'clock. I had expected to have slept at least for an hour or more because we had retired relatively late around eleven o'clock. But I was vexed. What should in my opinion have been routine technical and administrative matters were succeeding to disrupt my apple-pie order. It is hard enough when vacillating between wake and sleep in the middle of the night to avoid bizarre repercussions. Surmounting the day's earlier collisions with the medical profession and computer technicians was forcing me to rise above the friction existentially - always a synthetic response in my experience, calculated to defeat performance and productivity.
Many hours later I awoke near ten o'clock, energized by the uncommon rest and escape from anxiety. It propelled me instantly - even before rising to void my bladder - to call the local "Health Team" to pursue what had culminated in a complete roundabout. My obdurate determination was rewarded not long afterwards. The cream on the top was a subsequent email from the techies whom I had written to yesterday.