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|My Waterbed Tried to Kill Me... Twice
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|Author:||anniekhan [ Tue Apr 27, 2010 2:37 pm ]|
|Post subject:||My Waterbed Tried to Kill Me... Twice|
We had a wonderful trusted old bed and mattress since we were first married. The bed was beautiful but getting old and the mattress was over-turned so many times it became like a big fluffy pillow. We needed a NEW BED and mattress.
So my husband and I went shopping and decided on a waterbed. It was the latest trend and everyone was getting them. They were inexpensive and would last forever. So we picked a gorgeous one with only a few baffles in it so we would still feel it was a waterbed.
It had a large headboard, with mirrors and cupboards. How practical this bed would be. We even purchased drawers for under the bed. What a great idea we had for buying this bed. We also purchased beautiful blue satin sheets and pillow cases to match. My husband picked out a lovely satin blue and white bedspread to compliment our gorgeous bed. We were ecstatic.
We could hardly wait to get it home and put it together. We put it against our back wall which was directly along side a large fine-looking window. It was a perfect place and it fit like it was made for that spot. Filling it took forever because it was a king size mattress but finally it was full and ready to put our beautiful bedding on it.
I felt like a princess and decided to take a wonderful bubble bath and put on my silk nighty and grabbed a good book. I propped the pillows up and slid into the most beautiful and comfortable bed I have ever been in.
While my husband took his shower, I read and again, felt like a fairy tale princess. I was so absorbed in the book that I didn’t notice my husband coming into the bedroom. I heard him say something about, “how did I like the bed,” but had no idea what was going to happen next. My husband’s a pretty big man and he suddenly without warning plopped in the bed still talking to me. When he plopped, I plopped, and was totally flipped up and out of that beautiful bed, just missing going out that fine-looking window to boot.
All I heard was “Bonnie, where did you go”? I was sitting on my bottom on the floor still holding the book in my hand. “Where did he I think I went?” crossed my mind. I heard my husband laughing so hard that he couldn’t even walk to where I was or give me a much needed hand.
After checking for broken or damaged bones I stood up. Looked at the bed and my husband and realized this wasn’t what I had in mind when we decided to buy a new bed.
At that moment, I missed my old bed where I felt safe and secure. I looked at the new bed with new eyes. This bed tried to kill me and I wasn’t going to forget it. “I will keep my eye on it from now on,” I thought. My husband tried to convince me it was my silk night gown that caused all the problems, so I put it in the bag for Goodwill that very night, just to humor him. But I knew whose fault it was, Oh, I knew.
My relationship with the bed never did improve but from then on, I waited for my husband to get in first before I did. I started waking with awful pains in my hands and body every morning. It got so bad that I finally went to the doctors, thinking it was arthritis in my hands, neck and back, for heaven sakes I’m was only 36. The doctor checked me out and could find nothing wrong. It was such a relief, but what was wrong then?
One night I found out! The phone rang next to my bed and I couldn’t pry my hands away from the pillow. They were clenched so tight and painfully cramped from grasping the pillow with a death grip. My hands just wouldn’t let go of the pillow, it was like they were glued there! Apparently, my hands never forgot that first experience either and never felt safe on those satin sheets. So they held on for dear life all night long, every night since we bought that blasted bed. “No wonder my hands have be useless lately,” I thought. That’s it, the sheets are going too and I ripped them off and threw them right in the Goodwill bag with the nighty.
That bed and I were never close and it seemed it knew, it would never be forgiven but there weren’t any new conflicts for awhile. It was as though we just accepted the fact we had to live together especially since my husband took our old bed to Goodwill with the nighty and sheets. We had to live together, like it or not so we
better get used to it. Everything was calm for awhile until that frightful night it tried to kill me again.
I was dreaming of being crushed alive. I couldn’t breathe and I couldn’t move no matter how hard I tried. I struggled and struggled but couldn’t budge. It seemed the harder I struggled the tighter the grip of death got. I tried to scream, but the grip was so tight, I could hardly make a sound. “HELP ME, HELP ME,” I screamed.
All of a sudden the lights came on and I heard a voice saying, “Bonnie, where are you?” My husband asked.
“I’m here”, I said in a frantic soft voice.
“Where”, he said.
“Here, right here,” I cried.
“Oh my God Bonnie, how in the world did you get there?” my husband yelled.
After that, I only heard hysterical laughter. “Why isn’t he helping me, I’m being crushed alive and he’s out of his mind with laughter”, I thought.
“In between his laughter, he would say, “How in the world did you get there”? “Where”, I thought, “Where am I?”
“Bonnie you’re under the waterbed mattress and all that’s sticking out is the top of your head. You look like you were swallowed by a humongous sea creature,” he laughed. “How in the world did you get there and how in the world am I going to get you out?”
At that moment, I could have hit him but my hands were under this monster of a mattress along with everything else. All I knew was I was being crushed alive and I couldn’t breathe and my husband was being a total goof ball. He started yanking and yanking and pulling and pulling and pushing and pushing and finally after what seemed like an eternity, I was free.
I tried with everything that was in me to repeat that episode but never could. My husband even tried and couldn’t. It had to be
that the waterbed decided to swallow me alive, there was no other explanation.
“How in the world would I have explained this to the police,” my husband said.
“Oh, you’d have plenty time for that, like 20 years to life,” I firmly stated.
That’s it I said, “THAT BED GOES OR I DO, IT TRIED TO KILL ME…TWICE”.
I often worried about the poor soul that bought the killer waterbed at Goodwill. But fleetingly, since I was so glad to be back in a safe and comfortable traditional bed again. Now I simply close my eyes and sleep. Goodnight!
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