October 7, 1996
For over 26 years my husband and I have
argued (ever so gently) about my sleeping habits, or rather my lack of them. While Bill nods off at
the drop of a hat (note the picture I have of him on his page for all the world to see), I take from
30 to 60 minutes to fall into a state of unconsciousness. I avoid hitting the sack, not because I
don't want to go to bed, but because I have difficulty falling asleep.
6-7 hours magically provide the energy I need to face another day. Once every month or two I crash, falling into a near-coma for 8-10 hours, but for the most part I find it too difficult to snooze. Only a man like Bill, whose ability to sleep anywhere anytime is matched by none, could possibly have survived more than 26 years with me, but not because I hate to come to bed. No, my problem goes deeper. Besides bouts of insomnia and tossing and turning, I snore. We're talking "wake the dead" snoring here. Bill is sweet about it. He says it's not constant. I apparently only snore when I'm falling asleep and waking up, but considering how few hours there are in-between, that isn't saying much.
I chanced to mention the differences in sleeping habits to my doctor at the last check-up, and she became intrigued. Would I be willing to go to a sleep specialist? I had visions of a small room with a two-way mirror and massive machines monitoring my every dream, and at first I felt reluctant to subject myself to such torture, but then I figured, what difference would it make? I don't sleep that well anyway.
As it turned out, my testing would last one night, and I would do it in the comfort of my own home. I use the word "comfort" loosely here, since sleep apnea tests (you know, where they try to see if you stop breathing several times during the night) involve apparatus right out of Star Trek. I gamely taped and strapped every electrode and monitor on my body and head, and by the time I maneuvered myself into bed I felt like the Bride of Frankenstein. I looked worse. How in God's name was I supposed to get the needed 5 hours of sleep which would allow a valid test?!
Surprisingly enough, I slept. And I slept normally,
which as it turns out, is not so normal. I indeed suffer from a moderate sleep disorder. I don't
always breathe at night. It doesn't really affect my health, so trying to correct the problem is up to
me. If I want to wear a gas mask-like set-up every night with tubing connecting me to what I
assume is oxygen, I can buy a lovely machine and hook up. I'll take my chances with insomnia,
thank-you very much. I'm quite content to be a night owl.
