I haven’t been sleeping well. This has been going on for a little while now
– about twenty years. As a result I
sometimes doze off during the day, at meetings and at social events. In fact, at parties my friends take bets on
what time I’m gonna doze off. The winner
gets to draw on my face first.
So my doctor recommended a sleep
study. I had to keep a sleep journal for
two weeks beforehand, each day documenting what time I went to sleep, how long
I slept, any alcohol or caffeine I consumed, what drugs I took, who I slept
with, the barometric pressure of my room, and what kind of pajamas I wore
(Spiderman). Eventually I noticed a
pattern: I go to sleep at night and wake up in the morning. Weird, huh?
The only problem is that I wake up at the same time I used to go to
sleep in college. Imagine sharing a bed
with someone who gets up that early. If
I were married to an Amish woman she’d divorce me.
They started the sleep study by hooking
electrodes to my face, scalp, chest and shins with a sticky white paste, plus
they put hoses up my nose, and then they expected me to sleep.
I lay in bed for a good (actually not
so good) hour or so, trying to fall asleep while I was more wired than a meth
addict. A few trips to the bathroom
later I managed to get unconscious around midnight without the aid of beer.
After about three hours I woke up,
which is very typical of me (and one of the reasons I endured the sleep study
to begin with). I hit the call button
for the sleep technician, who disconnected the wires and hoses from the machine
so I could go pee. You haven’t lived
until you’ve held eighteen miles of wire while aiming at a toilet bowl at 3
a.m.
When I returned she plugged me in
again. I lay in bed for a while and
eventually fell asleep for a little while and did some dreaming. I forget what I dreamt about, but I remember
something about a national healthcare scheme that not only didn’t work, but
actually caused some people’s health premiums to go up. Thank God that didn’t really happen.
At about 5:30 the tech announced, “Good
morning, Mr. Schwalb” over the speaker, which didn’t wake me because I had
already been awake for an hour and a half.
She removed the hoses and tore the electrodes off my shins. To say that this felt like a Band-Aid being
removed would be like saying that Bill O’Reilly is a little bit conservative.
The rest of the wires were still
attached to me, and they were plugged into a little blue box that hung from my
neck like pimp bling. Why were they
still attached? Because the study wasn’t
over. They wanted to keep me all day for
a nap study. This sort of activity
involves sitting around reading, eating, pooping, watching television, and napping,
which pretty much describes a typical Sunday for me, minus the hangover. Every two hours they give the patient an
opportunity to nap. If he or she dozes
off within twenty minutes, they let him or her sleep for fifteen minutes.
The first thing I did was have
breakfast, which my insurance company gets billed for, so you know I took
advantage of that. I had some orange
juice, a few granola bars, and a Rice Krispies knockoff called Rice Crunchins,
which were square and did not go “snap, crackle, pop.” My usual breakfast cereal is Raisin Bran,
which cleans me out like Drano. That
cereal’s slogan should be “snap, crackle, poop.”
I brushed and flossed in order to get
the sugar out of my teeth. Which reminds
me: why do some folks brush their teeth in the morning and then eat? Doesn’t that undo the cleaning they just
did? It’s like wiping and then taking a
dump.
After a bit of texting, e-mail, and
seeing what derisive comments people had made about me on Facebook, I was informed
that they would not do a nap study because I had only slept 3.5 hours during the
night. Well, I had already told them that I
only sleep 3 to 5 hours per night. It
was right there in my sleep log. A nap
study is supposed to find things like narcolepsy and hypersomnia, but with so
little nighttime sleep, dozing off during the day is expected and not
necessarily an indication of a deeper problem.
Well, duh.
So the sleep tech ripped the rest of
the electrodes off, causing blinding pain and leaving white goopy stuff in my
hair and on my face. I felt like I had
just been in a porn film.
Now it’s up to my doctor to
determine why I don’t sleep well at night.
They told me that it will take a week.
In the meantime I’ll keep nodding off at social events, and my friends
will be there to support me, Sharpies in hand.