Sunday, February 14, 2010

137 Pounds of Stink

The above does not refer to me, by the way. For one thing I weigh 131.5 lbs (curse, curse, swear, swear), and for another, I'm one of those people who thinks themselves ill-done to if I don't have a huge array of nice smelling bath products that I can use frequently. No, the stinking poundage refers to an investment of sorts. Let's begin:

Many years ago my husband, one of those people who thinks mountain biking a completely reasonable activity to undertake, because sweating in the merciless sun over rough terrain strikes him as fun, hit a patch of brush up in the high country. He was out with a group of friends and here is what they saw: My husband, scooting down a trail, astride his trusty bike, arms rigidly locked in place to absorb the shock of the many rocks, and the uneven quality of the ground, approaching a cliff. Then he appeared to attempt a motor-cross style stunt by performing a flying headstand on his handlebars, before disappearing from sight, over a cliff.

I'm told this was terribly unsettling to witness, and I'll just say, jeez, ya think? So, his friends rushed to the cliff, peered over it with a mixture of horror and nausea, where they spied my husband splayed out on a handy bush that had broken his fall, his bike at least thirty feet below, and his posture indicating that he had a few structural problems with which to contend.

My husband, upon realizing that miraculously he wasn't as dead as he thought he would be, stared back at them, his right arm at a crazy angle, and pinned partially beneath his body. He gingerly attempted to move, and his shoulder let out a sound that actually caused an echoing pop in the mountains, as the dislocated bone snapped merrily back into place. Evidently, at this time, he invented no less than four new swear words. I'm guessing it sort of hurt.

I am a mass of injuries long healed also, which is part of the reason I get to wave at my husband vaguely, with admonishments to don sunscreen as he heads off on his adventures, and I read in peace, wondering why I married such a lunatic but content with the fact that I am never expected to undertake these journeys myself. Oh happy healed, broken bones, I knew they were good for something.

However, the incident with the fortuitously placed bush, and my own long healed injuries from a car accident meant that as we both reached the summit of forty and beyond, we became achey, as a couple. It's good to do things together, I'm told. On the average morning it sounds like two twin Operatic Baritones are warming up as we attempt to rise from bed on a chilly January morning. We were also both doing a mean Tasmanian Devil impersonation in the dead of night, as we individually whirled around, trying to achieve new positions with less pressure on sore joints.

As a result neither of us were getting much sleep, and you know what you don't want to add to the stress of everyday life? A guarantee of some sleep deprivation-induced surliness in addition to whatever problems the gods of fate decide to hurl at your heads.

We used the excuse of our wedding anniversary, something for which we rarely buy each other extravagant gifts, to plunk down enough cash for a Tempur-pedic mattress. The amount was not insubstantial, but hey, ninety day money back guarantee, and an aura of desperation regarding the need to get some rest, convinced us both that it was an investment well made, and so we did.

Now, as it happens, I've been fortunate enough to learn from the mistakes of others when it came to this particular mattress. The space-foam mattress, some call it. Ten years ago a friend, with a bone depletion problem, decided to splurge on one as she battled her own aches and pains. In an effort to save money, she decided to forgo a box spring of any kind. She was also budget minded enough (read: broke) to decide that the mattress would be fine on the floor of the basement bedroom she had at the time.

She informed me that the thing was punishingly firm for the first few weeks, so I knew there would be a break-in period. Whatever else she might have eventually gleaned from her time with the foam thing was lost to those gods of fate. The water heater in her basement broke, flooding the area.

In case you were wondering, those beds make really efficient sponges. The water damage to her basement was minimal, thanks to the kindness of the bed she'd splurged upon helpfully soaking up every drop of moisture with which it came in contact. It took two weeks for the thing to dry out enough to make moving its water-logged foaminess to the dumpster even remotely possible, because we will be well into the next century before it dries.

So I knew two things: At first it will be an unyielding brick and, for the love of all things merciful, don't have one of those things near a source of water unless you decide you hate it enough to essentially water-board the thing.

No one told me about the smell though. My mother has an off-brand version, she didn't mention, "Oh, and you'll likely die from malodorous quality of this, dearheart, before you ever feel its benefits." Terrifyingly, this is exactly how my mother speaks, explains a lot about me, doesn't it? My friend with the giant plumbing-sponge-disaster didn't mention that a funk would arise from it that was practically visible. The salesman, rather understandably didn't bother to outline that feature. The specimens in the mattress-store had long since aired out enough that there was no smell of latex, or petroleum, or space related science experiments, or whatever the heck that smell might be.

He did, however, mention a break-in period in which I was encouraged to "walk up and down it, bounce, break in the cells". Okay then. Super-sponge, unyielding brick, at an ungodly price evidently has cells that must be expanded. That salesman is the person who I will blame when I inevitably am plagued by nightmares in which my bed consumes me whole. Then burps with satisfaction, in keeping with the cartoon theme, I suppose.

We've had it for three weeks. Luckily, we have spare bedrooms, and we evacuated there the first night when, as it was unwrapped by helpful, and god-awful loud, installation experts the smell began to waft out. It isn't exactly a bad smell. This is not the smell of redolent death, it's just a funky, chemical, rubbery smell that you wouldn't want to roll around on for eight hours per night. We closed all the heating vents in the room, threw open the windows, cast a terrifed look at the three thousand dollar brick of stink, and fled. I am assured that this brick weighs precisely 137 lbs, by the way. Trust me, it produces enough smell for six 137 lbs mattresses.

The next morning the smell had crept out from underneath our master bedroom door, and had reached the landing of the stairs. Every day we would check it, everyday the smell seemed to air out a bit more. Why, it took less than a week for us to be able to stand within mere feet of our extravagant anniversary gift, and eye it with increasing alarm.

By the end of the week, I could even stand to be on it long enough to flop around, trying desperately to "break in the cells" while breathing through my mouth, and quietly cursing. My husband, braver than I, and with a lesser sense of smell, took the plunge and began sleeping on it at the end of that week. I continued to huddle in the guest room. Eventually I girded up my loins enough to join my husband in trying to "expand the cells". This particular quote from the salesman fascinates me, what a lovely euphemism for "squish out the smell as much as you can so that they may someday quit reeking" (implied: sucker!).

The good news is that you really don't feel it when your partner turns over in one of these beds. You are less likely to awake because of various pains causing you to shift.

The bad news is that it still has a distinct odor. Long gone is my habit of gently easing out of bed in the morning. Now I spring up and dash towards the shower, intent upon scrubbing the scent of our wild indulgence from my person. It is lessening, and since we did insist upon the ninety day free trial, I'm not too concerned. The blessed thing has exactly 60 days to stop releasing a poof of stink each time we roll over.

I'm mentioning this because nearly every person I know at some point has wistfully contemplated a Tempur-pedic mattress. They are the most expensive, so it then follows, in our consumerist society that they are assumed to be the best. It is comfortable, and the smell is decreasing (that or my sense of smell is dying, inch by inch which I don't entirely discount as a possibility).

A handy internet search with the words "Tempur-pedic fumes" provided the information that I was far from alone in being alarmed as hell by the thousands of dollars I spent to to perfume my house in a manner reminiscent of the La Brea Tar Pits.

Let this serve as fair warning to those of you contemplating your own splurge into, what marketing assures us will be, a restful night's sleep. You may eventually achieve just that, but be prepared for the need to let the bloody thing air. Also, whatever you do, don't let them "remove your old mattress" which the installation techs will happily offer to do.

You're going to need old reliable and springy until such time as you can stand the smell of your new fangled, brick-like, handy dandy, thousands of dollars worth of sponge.

It comes with free pillows, by the way, made from the same material. They too, smell like a product of Exxon, and are firm enough that you could use them as weapons in the event of a home invasion. Whee.


Jo said...

Alane, omigoodness, I clicked on your blog, just as I was heading out the door to buy ...

... ta-da ...

a Tempur-pedic mattress. Thanks for your brilliant post, I think I will give it a pass. If there is one thing I can't tolerate, it's funky odors.

How is it to sleep on, by the way?

Nancy said...

LOL! You have a way with words! Yes, I know exactly what you mean. We bought a mattress that was a semi-custom job that had a big thick memory foam topped by something else that was supposed to keep it from being too "foamy." However it created people "craters" and it took less then two years to do it. It is currently in storage, but we want to rid ourselves of it and wish fervently that it wasn't stored. I love, love, love my Beautyrest mattress that is a middle of the road one. You can't feel any turning because it has pocketed coils. We currently own four of them!

Send it back if you don't love it in 60 days. You won't love it any more in 90.

PhilipH said...

Alane, thanks for revealing all, about this Tempur thingy I mean. I have seen many adverts for this brand and was thinking of ordering one, mainly because it might make life a bit easier for my missus and her hip problem.

Definitely not going to bother now!

Wonderful post; you just go from strength to strength.

jadedj said...

We've had ours for a year now, and I must say we never experienced the odorous fumes that you describe. We expected to, but it didn't materialize. Never slept better, and the best part is, we are totally unaware of one another on that mattress...except of course when we want to be.

BTW, stopped over from intelliwench's blog. You have a beautiful and amusing way with a phrase :)

Land of shimp said...

Hey Jo, I hope you're off to enjoy the citywide festivities! Vancouver's been looking beautiful on the TV, and I saw an absolutely dazzling tourist promoting commercial during the games. What a stunning area of the world, and I hope many people head off, for a nice stay. We already loved the area, but this is such a nice opportunity for BC to shine.

Do you, it actually sleeps just fine. For that price, I expected a host of heavenly thingamabobs to serenade us to sleep, but alas it comes sans Seraphim.

I do think it will eventually be a good option, if and when it stops smelling. If it doesn't? It's back to the people who sold it to me, and I suspect it won't be their first return.

It does actually do what it claims, though...just with the added fume factor.

Nancy, thank you, and I will absolutely keep that exact model in mind should the smell prove too much to take for long. This comes with a lifetime guarantee about not forming the dents, if it does, it is replaced at no cost (and presumably with its own destinkifying period through which to live).

Philip, actually that's why mother bought hers, and she loves it. She's insanely sensitive to smells, but she went with a knockoff that evidently doesn't have the same smell to it. So the memory foam mattress might be worth it, but unless you have a place to lock the thing up until it has stopped smelling (our house is pretty large), I wouldn't recommend the Tempur.

In fact, I'm fairly certain it is the only brand with that particular problem as my friend with the failed water heater, also didn't experience it.

It's quite strange, it is by far the most expensive brand in the memory foam mattresses, but I guess the added cost is the smell.

Weirdly, and this I didn't mention in the post, about six months ago I bought my son a knockoff brand and it didn't smell. We also have a twin bed here, the same brand as the kind we bought my son (from a site called Bed in Box, by the way, if you are interested). No smell there either.

It does work well for people with joint problems and any kind of sore spot (my son slammed into a tree while skiing a few years back, and has his own iffy, sore shoulder).

So yea...we had reason to know that this was a good way to deal with pressure pain, but holy cats, I wish someone had told me that going high end and buying the best known brand? Brought with it a lingering, malodorous problem!

Land of shimp said...

Hello, jadedj! Thanks for paying me a visit, is it a Tempur-pedic? Oh you are fortunate! I envy you the bliss of a non sticky mattress (a sentence I never thought I would compose with such conviction)!

Land of shimp said...

Stinky, not sticky. Oh lordy, I've just realized that the problem could, actually be worse ;-)

jadedj said...

Yes it is a Tempur-pedic (and, this writing). We bought it at a mattress store rather than from the manufacturer. And quite honestly, I wasn't in the room when they unpacked it, so it may have been previously unpacked. Maybe that explains the non-"stinky". We did check it for sticky, however.
As to sticky vs stinky...sometimes one's fingers get sticky on the keyboard...I, for one, make allowances for that.

Cabo said...

Oh my God that was priceless. It took around 3 or 4 paragraphs to recover from "Operatic Baritones" just so you know. Ha!

The Bug said...

My dad got a knock off & I don't remember any discussion of smell, but my mom complained that it was too hot. Not sure what she meant by that - but she was in full-blown menopause at the time so it could have been that NO mattress was going to be cool enough!

Gary's third pottery blog said...

good lord, well, we bought a SERTA 4 years ago, after spending hours trying all these mattresses, and I LOOOOOOVE our bed....and I don't know why futons got to be so popular, gosh! I s'pose because they are easy to toss in the back of your crappy old car and move to your next crappy apt., but then you get older and you're tired of that SH!T

Hilary said...

Oh geesh I can relate. All I have is the single layer of memory foam.. about an inch and a bit high. My darling son gave it to me as a gift. It's been almost two months now and still stinks - though nowhere near as much as early days.

This thing came with all sorts of warnings about smell and how flammable it is. You don't want to have an open flame, spark or light bulb (yes, I'm exaggerating) anywhere near it. It's a bit unnerving to be inhaling and absorbing chemicals and sleeping on a potential Olympic torch.

Your telling of it all is hilarious. I suspect you'll get used to it in time and keep the darn thing.

intelliwench said...

I have another "warning" for you -- memory foam is a good insulator, and when you go through your own personal global warming experience, you'll be schvitzing like Niagra.

I hope jaded j behaves himself over here...let me know if he gets out of line.

DUTA said...

I've greatly enjoyed the wit and humor of this post.
As for matresses, I'm not familiar with the brand mentioned in the post. I was always advised however that a good matress has to be firm and tough.

PhilipH said...

Hi Alane. I've already commented, BUT, having read some of the other comments on this topic I have to ask a question about a specific term that crops up more than once here.

OK, in the UK the term 'knock up' is different from the American 'knock up' - which I have already come across now and then.

However, the term KNOCK OFF in London and most of the UK simply means 'fallen off the back of a lorry' (i.e. STOLEN).

What does it mean in the States? I don't think it is the same as in the UK. Perhaps, and here I'm only surmising, it means something like a 'stolen idea', or a copy of a brand?

I am still learning American English and making great strides via blogs! Soon I shall be able to state on my CV "Speaks two languages: English and American, with a soup├žon of Deutsch.

But why would I need a CV at my time of life? Unless St. Peter is weeding out undesirables ... hmm.

Cricket said...

I've been considering the big mattress splurge myself. Can definitely relate to the post-40 thing, though as my Nana would say about aging, it beats the alternative.

Already ruled out the Tempur-pedic based on the heat retention thing. Given my druthers, I'd have the heat off and a window cracked year-round. Except in hot and humid weather, when I like my AC set to "meat locker."

I've been thinking maybe the Sleep Number? If you ever review that product, let me know. Wish all product reviews were as honest and entertaining as this one.

Land of shimp said...

jadeddj, we also bought ours from a mattress store, I'm wondering if the store you bought it from had the good sense to store it more loosely wrapped (you know, protected but able to breathe)? Guess we'll never know.

I was being literal though, if you run a search on "Tempur Pedic fumes" or "Tempur Pedic smell" the number of hits are astounding. You got lucky, sir and I say, "Good for you!" It really is an awful lot of money to spend, only to have it arrive and smell unpleasantly. I'm told it goes away.

Why thank you, Cabo! Always happy to give people a laugh :-)

The Bug, seriously, if they didn't mention it? It didn't smell as much as this mattress did. I'm being serious -- there was no way anyone with a nose could have slept on that for the first week. I had visions of people making this rather large purchase, and then sobbing their way through the first night.

I think I'll worry about the "could be hot" factor if we decided to keep The Brick (we name everything in this house, except the cat, apparently).

Gary, I think you've nailed the popularity of futons, when moving involves three friends and a truck, they are perfect. Then at some point most people start to morph into some version of the Princess and the Pea when it comes to beds.

What's even weirder is that I really don't remember sleep being something that ever concerned anyone much -- if you got three hours of sleep, you were functional. Now if something happens and I get three hours of sleep and that's all? Zombie. I'm lumbering through my day, communicating in guttural noises, my entire body in rebellion.

Hehe. While watching the Olympic skiers on the moguls, I kept worrying about the eventual fate of their knees. "Oh...owwww. Their poor knees, their poor, poor knees!" So, amazing feats of athleticism, honing the human body into a thing at the command of the user, and I'm worried about joint pain for them two decades later. Priorities, they change. I assume I'm slowly morphing into a house cat. Kind of like Kafka, only less existential dilemma and more seeking of comfort.

Aw...that was nice of your son, Hilary! Has it helped? I mean, aside from the "Ew." of the smell, and worries about spontaneous combustion? I keep wondering if the thing is smelling less, or if terrifyingly, I'm becoming accustomed to it. Will I have house guests walk in the door, sniff the air, and have a polite look of dismay cross their faces? I need to grab a brutally honest friend and have her sniff the house for me :-) Perhaps I'll wait until closer to the ninety day do-or-die date.

The thing is? I'm sleeping like a dead person, which was kind of the goal. So there are upsides to it.

Oh dear, I should have conducted a survey prior to buying it, intelliwench! Thank you for the heads up on that. My husband will be thrilled, as I'm already the lunatic who likes to sleep with the bedroom window open in all manner of weathers. The colder the bedroom, the better, so that should work out for him! I actually have silk sheets to help combat the potential of Three Coins for the Fountain! That all women go through.

Not to be indelicate, but some people have that going on throughout their lives. And by some people, I mean me. My poor husband. I'm a persistently damp bedmate (woo hoo, I feel sexy admitting that ;-) ) ...I sleep in silk tees, as well as on silk sheets (and try to affect a rarefied air as I sweat like a farm laborer).

There's a song from a musical, I forget which one, that has the lyrics, "I enjoy being a girl!" which I will frequently sing in the manner of Eeyore's terribly fitting, really.

Land of shimp said...

Hello Duta! Always so nice to see your name :-) They're all the rage here, these mattress. Conventional wisdom is that a firm mattress is better, but it seems that for anyone with joint problems, one that has the right level of yield combined with support is best.

I don't know. I crushed a bunch of bones in a car accident (because I guess merely breaking them would have been doing things by half, something to which I am not prone) ...and there is a specific form of arthritis that results from that happening. Nothing too dreadful, just hits joints first. Could be a lot worse, and the true form of arthritis is beyond painful, this is just grumblingly sore, so I'm not complaining. I'm thanking my lucky stars, and making bedding adjustments, basically.

Hello Philip! Yes, here it means the same thing. Have I not mentioned I'm a bandit? Stick 'em up, hand over yer wallet there, mista!" Not convincing? Ah well, not surprising, as clearly I am not a highwayman (or woman, for that matter).

A knock off is a replica of a same brand. Often the formulation is identical, but usually it is an approximation of a top brand, or big seller.

They're very big in the US. A for instance would be Tide detergent -- the top brand -- well every grocery store you go to has a brand that is comparable to Tide, under their own store brand. Fragrance of the detergent is changed, but the formulation is close to exactly the same, and knock offs are much cheaper.

So for Tempur-Pedic there are a ton of Knock-off brands BUT their particular foam is actually a relic of the actual space program (it was invented for astronauts) and is patented. The knock off brands do an approximation of replicating it, and sell those knock offs for much less.

So they are cheaper, and often just as good. It's essentially a competing brand that will claim to be just as good, and often is.

(I saw your comment before I had even a sip of coffee and thought, "oh boy, how am going to explain that one?", the nectar of nimble thought, I guess!)

Hehe, Philip, I am an American who knows the term CV, here we call them resumes (and yes, I know, I'm missing the accent mark). You are learning to speak our Americanized (read: bastardized) language! Sweet!

Cricket, I know people with the sleep number bed! Like you, I like a meat locker, but my husband likes warmth. We shall see how this works out.

On the sleep number bed: It depends on whether you and your wife sleep closely together. There is a ridge in the middle of the bed, and a fairly firm one, that is difficult to cross while sleeping (or while awake, for that matter). It's a bit like pushing two twins together.

I am a sleep stalker. I pursue my husband to the very edges of the mattress. A stealth snuggler, I am told. We had to rule out the sleep number bed because, invariably, I'd wake up as I began my nightly migration to find my oversized husband.

We also start out locked together is ye olde "spoon" position, and that would involve perching atop the rigid (and presumably sprouting feathers, in keeping with that mental image).

However, the people I know who have them LOVE them. Love, love, LOVE them. Although the great divide is something they had to work around, if you get my "married people have noticed that..." drift.

But it solves the problem of one partner (almost always the guy) preferring firm (as men are more likely to have some back issues) and women the softer spectrum (as women have a lot of problems with sore hips past forty or so).

So, good and bad :-)

ds said...

I'm sorry about the smell, but this is terrifically funny! I wonder if a gallon of febreze would help?

ethelmaepotter! said...

You always make me smile first, them laugh out loud.
I can so relate to all the aches and pains of growing...mature...together. I've got torn rotator cuffs in both shoulders, one bad knee, compromised muscle in my right calf which is fine while standing, but rebels when reclining, herniated disc in my back, and bilateral sacroiliitis. When we replaced our last mattress, I insisted upon a memory foam mattress, after trying one for half an hour and falling in love. Hubby, of course, checked the price first and went straight for the cheapest thing in the store, which was one of those God-awful jobs you could feel a pea under. We had a showdown right there in the store; I swear, it was like the gun fight at the OK Corral - me and my mattress, with the manager and all the store personnel lined up behind me...against my husband and his puny little floppy mattress. No supporters whatsoever. Of course, I realize these people were out to make money, but really, it was no contest. It wasn't like I picked out the most expensive thing in the store - actually it was probably just over the mid-priced range - but it sleeps like a million bucks!
I am happy to report, though, that we never had an odor issue; heat, yes, which suited me just fine, since I am essentially a very cold natured person and sleep even in the summer under piles of blankets, but we have never experienced the Tempur-Pedic problem. Next time, try Fluffo.

Suldog said...

"... the three thousand dollar brick of stink ..."

I should pay you for the joy you bring. I probably never will, of course, but I should.

I was born with the ability to fall asleep just about anywhere, so long as it is dark and quiet. I've slept on cement floors, rugs, couches, on top of (and under) tables, in bathtubs... Any actual mattress, no matter how dilapidated, works for me.

Good luck on breaking in the beast.

Miss OverThinker said...

your post couldn't have come at a better time as I was contemplating buying one of these for myself, given the pain in my back - now if I do, atleast I know what I have in store for me...

JoMo said...

I love the way you spin a tale!

My hubby & I, also feeling the forty creeks, embarked on the same journey, only to land on the extra super firm foam mattress at Ikea, I can't remember it's name - the glunda? the bjorky? the sleepnkan?

Anyway it ended up being way cheaper overall for he bedframe & mattress than we ever expected. And it worked. When hubby tossed & turned, I was barely disturbed & the bed was brick-like.

After 2 1/2 years hubby's side is, ummm, totally compressed so we're up for a new mattress, but at about $200, I don't mind replacing it every couple of years.

I have a freaky sensitive sense of smell so I can't imagine the hell you describe. I'd freak. I really hope it de-stinks soon.

As for good smells - I really love Ombra's citrus sage bubble bath. Heavenly.

Here's to a good night's sleep!

Land of shimp said...

ds, I contemplated doing just that, but a terrible fear gripped me: What if that somehow made it worse?? And I was frozen in stark terror. I'm barely overstating that. I was about to head off to the store thinking, "A Febreze type product might be..." and then thought hit: "Worse in undreamt of ways. EEEEEK!"

Here's hoping the air continues to clear.

By the way, everyone here is correct: It's a warm a thing. Holy Hannah, I think I'm sleeping on a kiln, which is kind of nice in February, and somewhat less an appealing thought in July.

ethelmae, I love the visual of that. A Mexican standoff of sorts. I'm glad you won, a good bed is really a great boon in life. When I met my husband, he had an ultra cheap bed, on the floor of his very sparsely furnished apartment. Now he sees the wisdom of a good bed, and wouldn't go back, but for some reason (and not to speak in gender stereotypes), men are often willing to sleep on the equivalent of a fabric covered plank.

Sol, I am honestly very pleased that I make you laugh. There's always something extra fun in making people who are funny themselves, laugh. Always good to see you, by the way.

MOT, if you do? Seriously, learn from my mistake and go with the knockoff brand. They come with warranties too, and from what I've been gathering? They do not smell the same. They don't smell. It's something about the "NASA, Space Foam" patent that brings with it the...eau de regret, really :-)

But I can also tell you honestly? Really helpful with sore backs, hips and shoulders. Also, those knockoffs tend to be half the price. Live and learn, I guess. (*pours stiff drink*) (*is joking*) (*well, sort of, this hasn't driven me to a.m. drinking but then I can't smell the bed from here).

JoMo, it's funny how common a tale this is, isn't it? "We hit forty together, and start to grunt a great deal when rising from the bed in the morning. Something had to be done!" I'm glad you found such a good alternative, and I'm with you, replacing it every couple of years sounds like a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

I'm the flopper, and turner in this relationship, but my husband is the one bound to create the big, Rob-sized dent. That's why I thought a warranty would be so important -- he's big. He's lean, but the man is sizable, and anything that repeatedly comes in contact with him is compressed.

Except for me.

Thank you everyone, for the comments, and for stopping by!

Anonymous said...


I think sleeping on nail is preferred.

I got a mattress with a hole in the middle and I always end up in the hole.

Brian Miller said...

ah, just what i needed this afternoon. wonderful chuckles...thanks for the warm comments today on my olympic post.

Cloudia said...

I'm sleeping on a foam "bunk" here on da boat.

Aloha, New Friend!

Comfort Spiral

imbeingheldhostage said...

We bought ours when I was very pregnant with the fifth child (and knew what the last trimester feels like on older pregnant bones). I don't remember a smell.
I did have a salesman that was very honest who told me the first week I would feel like someone had beat me with a bat. He was right, but we adjusted and I would NEVER be comfortable anywhere else now. I've tried having a sleep over with the kids--who have pretty decent mattresses-- and it's a no go. The one thing no one EVER mentions about these beds is the way they hold hot/cold. In the summer the mattress is hot and in the winter, it will suck the life right out of you if you live somewhere cold.
I still love it :-)

Merlin said...

awesome account of it....
But if it can give relief to your joints and can give you a good nights sleep I guess it will be worth it!!
And then again, you still have the ninety day payback guarantee!!

Kyle said...

Alane, I'm really sorry to hear you are having so much trouble with Tempur-pedic mattress. The smell sounds awful! I have a very sensitive nose, so I'd be in the other room, like you were, probably for weeks, until the fumes were completely gone. All that aside, your post is hilarious. I couldn't stop laughing. here is hoping you have a smell free sleep soon.

Life with Kaishon said...

This made me laugh this morning! : )

The post where I put the picture of the hand was for a contest I enter every week at I Heart Faces. I put 4 hand pictures up at 8:00 pm and asked everyone to pick their favorite by 10:00 PM so I could enter it : )
The hand with the rings won.
I love Mother Teresa too!

Anonymous said...

Oh heck, I've never heard of this and can only thank you for the extremely informative post. I'm currently sniffing my mattress now. My husband thinks I'm certifiable.

I also want to thank you for your lovely comment in which you left on my first vlog post. And for the publisher bit!

CJ xx

Fab, feisty and fifty... said...

yes l use a moulded pillow, not sure how to describe it, sort of like a wave!!!

and t sure had a funk when l first got it, but has worn off. and saved my neck...

thanks for dropping by to our MMM blog....l am loitering with intent...manically packing up my belongings and abut to depart with son in tow...please god he doesnt change his mind.....daughter abandoning the sinking ship is hell, husband well l can deal with that later...or not...

am ok ..firefighting and shoring up the damage...

saz x

will be back soon.

Tabor said...

I tried to add a comment to this tremendously funny post yesterday and my internet connection was giving me hiccups. I purchased a 3-inch mattress cover years ago that was covered in a cloth we could wash and it never smelled and was very comfortable. It is now ready for replacement but you have scared me silly!

Shrinky said...

Ha! I have ust read Nancy's comment, and yup, we bought a spanking new, top of the range mattress ourselves less than two years back - okay, it didn't stink THAT bad, but it did take a wee while to air as I recall. The problem now is, we have a high ridged groove running down the middle of it, like a "do-not-cross" line between the pair of us! It's the last place in the house you'd look to for any comfy rumpy-pumpy..!!

Ah well. Good luck, I sure hope yours starts to earn it's keep soon.

Anonymous said...

There is nothing more important in life than a fabulous place to lay your weary head :0)

Land of shimp said...

Oh, I've missed comments, I'm sorry!

Abe, my goodness, I'd be a surly sort of person if I slept in a hole, but you seem to do fine :-) Thanks for the comment, I do appreciate it.

Brian, I'm glad it was amusing, but thank you for that wonderful post. I thought about it several times, in the ensuing days. It was very touching and a privilege to read.

Cloudia, I'm not sure how you ever find time to sleep, surrounded by such a lovely world as you are! I think only a setting as beautiful as the one you live in could ever make me say, "My bed is unimportant!" You really live in a paradise of sorts :-) Thank you for sharing it with others!

Merlin, we got lucky in that the smell is nearly gone, so our expensive foam brick is now the brick we are beginning to love. Hurray, I do love a good bed, and it is so good to see you :-) I hope all is going well.

Kyle, I'll tell you what, your skunk post put my discomfort in perspective, that's for sure! Particularly knowing now that you have a sensitive nose, good heavens, that must have been uncomfortable. It's always nice to see your name, and I hope all memories of skunk are a thing of the past!

Life with Kaison, thank you for explaining that! It was very amusing when I was reading through the comments because of the"I'm missing something, aren't I? I think I must be missing something. If I'm not missing something, I think I may have hit my head recently, because it really feels like I'm missing something!" Thank you for filling in the blank :-)

Crystal, here's hoping the message works! Hehe, not exactly subtle, but fortune favors the brave in these matters, eh? I love your blog, by the way. There's just something delightful about reading about life with sheep, among other things. It's so wonderfully absurd for me ,but commonplace for you.

Great thought, eh? Your life is fantastical to others.

Land of shimp said...

Triple F, thank you for stopping by. My heart really went out to you when I read of what was going on. You haven't sounded very happy of late, when referencing your relationship, and I really hope that this will simply end in a happier you, you deserve it!

I know it must be heart-rending, but don't take your daughter's decision too much to heart. It really isn't about you, I remember being eighteen, and my son is's just an age where thinking beyond the end of your own nose is difficult to do. Empathy is in sparse supply at that age. She's really not trying to hurt you, and she does love you dearly. It's one of those "This is about her, not you" situations. I just wish it wasn't adding to your sore heart.

Please take care, you're being thought of, and about.

Tabor, that happens to me too, sometimes. I'll think I've left a comment, and blogger will have been messing with me. Better Blogger than my connection, I suppose.

Don't be afraid! Seriously, it's becoming clear that the odor issue is primarily determined by how the mattress is stored after manufacturing. If it's not the same brand, it doesn't seem to be an issue (nice patent for stink they have, eh?)...

Plus, it really does air out. That or we just can't smell it any longer, which is just as good in the end result!

I knew I missed one: Imbeingheldhostage -- you know, it's funny, that's the opposite complaint nearly everyone has! Most people feel like they are roasting on Tempur-pedic and the like. Even my mom has mentioned it ...I guess we're all wildly individualistic, aren't we? Oddly comforting thought! I'm glad you love your mattress though. What a great luxury to have in a life.

Shrinky, I've really become convinced that the odor issue has to do with how the manufacturer stores their product, because I've gotten a ton of response to this post...both here, and elsewhere.

It was horrible for us, at first. Seriously, there is no way a human being would have been able to bear sleeping on it in the first week....and the fumes were bad enough that I'm pretty sure it could have caused illness.

Now? Just the faintest whiff of an odd odor, every now and then.

I'm so glad I did this post], because if it hadn't been for so many people assuring me their same brand didn't smell? I would have heaved the thing back, post haste. As it turns out? It's clearly airing out, and on its way to not smelling at all...and we're sleeping wonderfully.

Y'all kept me from making an impulsive return that would have cost me the benefits, thank you.

Eternally distracted, I wholeheartedly agree. You can face a lot in life when you are well rested, and when you aren't? A blown lightbulb can seem too huge a calamity to overcome.

Finally, thank you all for commenting. I'm sorry I missed responses for several days. We've been having all the floors redone, carpeting replaced.

Want to guess what smells oddly? New carpeting.

Woo hoo. I need a new nose ;-)

Fab, feisty and fifty... said...

bless you and thank you for the wonderful heart of a comment you left on my blog....and here which l have just read..generous and of course truthful throughout...

l am counting down the days now...keys thursday, and close the door behind me on saturday...

I need some space, reflect and find out how l feel...cos l dont know...numbness is the order of the day..
l thank you..

saz x

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