A battle of wills

The man in my life, Jeremy, has, in common with most of his gender, many annoying habits. As he is a cat I have to learn to live with most of them. I accept that I have to sleep scrunched up in the corner of my king-sized bed while he manages to occupy all the rest. I'm perfectly happy to watch television with a large furry weight on me and I quite understand that he has to sharpen his claws on something more exciting than a scratching post. My friends have even got used to their ankles being "tasted" when they least expect it (I know better than to expose bare flesh!).
Just lately, however, we've hit a problem.  The chemo makes me tired and I really don't want to get up in the middle of the night to let him out and then again an hour later to let him in.  We had a cat flap in our previous house and it caused much trauma when the local bully got in and attacked J in his own home.
I found a secure flap on line that is only activated by the cat's microchip so I thought it was time to try again. The new catflap was fitted yesterday at enormous expense. I held Jeremy against and programmed it to his chip and then waited. At 2:00am I heard the first shout "I want to go meowwwt!". I ignored it. The cry was repeated at increasing volume for about 10 minutes with no response. Then he had a brainwave. He started scratching my suede bed. That usually gets me up. I gritted my teeth and ignored it.  He went downstairs and tried shouting from there. Eventually he gave in and went out through the flap. There was beautiful silence for all of half an hour and then it started "I want to come meowinnnn!". He was on the conservatory roof outside my bedroom window. He tried shouting for about 10 minutes and then went down to the back door and shouted from there. Then he came back up to the window. Eventually I went downstairs and called him. Then I shut the door and waited. He looked so pathetic sitting in the snow and peering in through the flap. Finally he realised that there really was only one way he was going to get in. He bit the bullet and, with much dignity he pushed open the flap and stepped in.  After a celebratory meal we went back to bed and spent some time telling each other how brave and clever and handsome he was. By 4:00 he was fast asleep on his 3/4 of the bed.  Me? I was wide awake and cold.
It's a cat's life.