Laying me down to sleep

I was up late last night, I mean, really late. Technically I pulled an all-nighter, but all I saw of morning was light creeping in around the blinds. I'm helping my advisors write a manuscript for Immunological Reviews, and to make sure overlapping edits don't get made, only one person gets virtual possession at a time. Having no allegiance to God or country, family or other duty (like a real job), I typically get the overnight hours.

The funny thing about last night was being totally exhausted at the end. I finally touched head to pillow around 7 am and immediately things went batty. Thoughts of people I've known, their voices and faces, drifted in but were muffled, as if behind gauze. I put up a little fight, tried to boost the gain on the thoughts, but it was no use: Sleep, a panicked sleep, was taking over. I felt my heart rush a little at the prospect of losing people, of losing everything. And then all went black, and nothing mattered.

Even then, just shy of 7 am, the analogy was obvious: Is this what real death feels like? You care for a moment, think "oh, it's happening," and then you don't?