After a delay caused by the Rangers, I am finally taking the sleep study/lab thingy. I checked in at 9:30 PM and found a depressing room, much like the one in the previous post. Actually identical, I think. Truth in advertising! What a concept! The lab tech dude that checked me in said it will be an hour and a half until he gets to me. So now, I can enjoy my free time. In this room. The room that is making me itch. Seriously. I have the heebies AND the jeebies.
And yes, that IS a fake Ficus tree.
To counter the decor (which I would refer to as “early yuck,”) I brought along some DVDs. I was forewarned I might need entertainment when I read on my the pamphlet: “Bedrooms include queen-sized beds and TV/DVD combos with standard antenna broadcasting.”
That’s right. ANTENNA broadcasting. Eat your hearts out.
What does a girl watch to get her mind off non-prettiness, itchiness, the worst bedspread ever, and a sense of impending doom? The Dick Van Dyke Show. I’ll check back in after they plug me into all the sensors and electrode type things. Meanwhile, enjoy the view. I know I am.
And yes, that light to the right of the TV is a camera. Monitoring my every move.
THE FOLLOWING MORNING:
I did not continue this post after being connected to the gear. Why? Because I couldn’t possibly move without disconnecting something. I had electrodes attached to my head and in my hair, on my legs, my arms, you name it. Plus, there was a sensor like they take your heart rate with taped to my Iphone typing finger, “Gus.”
– Seen here minus accoutrements.
So with Gus out of commission, (and also noticeably in need of a mani), I cautiously maneuvered under the so-called “sheets” and closed my eyes. It is not easy to sleep connected to over a dozen little wires. I tried for a pleasant dream, but to add insult to injury, I ended up dreaming I was in a Sleep Lab. The Sleep Lab in my dream was WAY nicer than the one I was actually in, so that was good.
The bad part was the difficulty breathing. (Although semi-consciously I thought, “Good. I am cooperating. I am not like my car that refuses to repeat the same noise for a mechanic that it delights me with on a daily basis.”) The OTHER bad part was that I don’t know if I actually slept. There was a lot of tossing and turning, or readjusting, as the wires kept waking me up as they tugged this way or that. I must have slept at some point, despite evidence to the contrary. I look like I belong in that drab, sad room today.
I was awakened by lab tech dude at 6:00 AM and handed paperwork. He’s lucky he didn’t get punched. He wanted answers to questions like, “How many hours did you sleep last night?” “Did you wake up during the night?” “For how long?”
Wait… Isn’t that what YOU are supposed to tell ME?
If you think I can judge time when I am asleep you are wrong. I went camping once and would have sworn I had been asleep for at least 2 hours, only to find, in reality, ten minutes had passed. I am NOT a good judge of time when uncomfortable and yet unconscious.
Results are back in about a week. I don’t care what they tell me, as long as I never have to be in that room again.
And if you are interested in what I looked like with all those sensors stuck to my head, it was something like this. Only Pin Head is much more stoic than I.
Diary of Ann Franks 