Sleep Study

I usually don't talk about this with anyone but my family, but I have a severe fatigue problem. For me it all started when I got mono in 2001. Since then I have not felt rested or refreshed once. I require at least 12 hours of sleep a day, sometimes much more. If I don't get the rest, I can't function and often get sick.

I've been to several doctors who like to pass it off as a side effect from my antidepressant, but I was taking an antidepressant before mono happened and never felt like this. I've researched everything from thyroid and adrenal dysfunction to fibromyalgia and Epstein Barr. The only diagnosis that is a (near) perfect fit is chronic fatigue syndrome, but all the doctors I've been to just scoff at that idea.

Fortunately I found a doctor at the end of last year that doesn't treat me like a hypochondriac and takes me seriously. She has done everything from testing my hormone levels to trying B-12 shots.

Celiac? No.
Hypothyroidism? No.
Adrenals? No.
Etc.? No.
Etc, etc.? No.

The only abnormal result of blood tests so far is my extremely high number of antibodies for the Epstein Barr virus. (I think I said that right...). Does this suggest my body is still battling the devil?

The next test on the list was a sleep study to see if there is something interfering with my sleep (other than a snoring husband). I went in on Wednesday night for the first polysomnogram, then had to remain at the clinic the next day for a nap study.

The room that I had to stay in was nicely furnished, much like a nice hotel room. The only difference was the amount of electronic equipment on the night stand. Well, and the intercom and video camera. At least that's different from the hotels that I stay in...

The bed was a Sleep Number bed (yay!) and they had down pillows (yay!) and soft sheets. There was a lovely matelasse coverlet in case I got cold. I filled out a questionnaire and then changed into my pajamas.

Then the "fun" began.

First was the scrubbing. This part seriously sucked. Can you say, OW?! The tech used what was, essentially, liquid sandpaper to scrub the areas where the electrodes would go. This included my legs, chest, neck, and face.

Next was the goo. He dipped the electrodes into this viscous, waxy substance and then stuck them on my skin. To keep them in place, each was secured with medical tape.

Measuring of the head. Red grease pencil marked the important points on my scalp. Smoosh went the electrodes, still with tape. Yuck.

Now we stand up and have the leads from our legs strapped to our body with elastic bands. One across the chest, and one across the tummy. These bands also monitor our breathing.

Eventually I looked like this:

Only without the beard and farmer tan.

Photo from Wikimedia Commons

They pull all the leads over your shoulders and tie them together behind your back. You are plugged into a small device that has a travel strap (you know, for potty breaks). I almost felt like a Navi from Avatar with my electric ponytail. (That makes me a nerd, doesn't it?)

I thought this was all pretty bad until the tech brought out the oxygen tube. He stuck it in my nose and taped it to my face then wrapped it behind my ears.

That was when I knew I was never going to fall asleep.

Goo and the evil nose hose.
Photo from I Do Things So You Don't Have To

Walking me to the bed and plugging me into Hal's little brother, the tech instructed me to lie down and relax (ha, ha). Then he left the room. A minute later I heard him on the intercom. He asked me to do a series of exercises to test the leeches.

"Close your eyes. Open your eyes. Blink. Look left then right. Look up then down. Clench your jaw. Grind your teeth. Take a big breath and hold it. Let it out. Take a big breath and hold it and move your stomach muscles in and out. Let it out. Move your right foot up and down. Now the left foot." Et cetera!

Finally he turned out the lights and suggested I try to sleep.

Sure.

I adjusted the bed. I started with 55. I turned on my side (I always sleep on my side) and was promptly poked in the nose with the oxygen tube. The cord for the pulse/ox on my right index finger kept getting jammed on the night stand.

This is when colorful words started to form in my head. Colorful, four-lettered words.

I try lying on my other side. Again with a jab to the nose.

I try lying on my stomach. The tube tries to take up residence in my nostrils.

Finally I give up and lie on my back.

And lay there.

And lay there.

And lay there.

I estimate that I lay there, awake, for the better part of 4 hours.

Eventually I decide to adjust the bed, this time to 35.

And lay there.

And lay there.

And... I'm getting up to make some soup in a crockpot. I'm nervous that the tech will notice that I am no longer in bed, but searching my panty for chili powder. Then I am at my mom's house. My sister reminds me that her baby shower is that morning. Oh crap! I can't make it because I'm doing a sleep study! I have to get back before...

The tech wakes me up, "Your eight hours are up! How'd you sleep?"

Seriously.

And guess what?

It was 5 AM.

And for the rest of the day, every two hours they would have me lay down in a darkened room and try to nap for 20 minutes.

And every time I would finally fall asleep after 19 minutes.

One minute later the lights are up and I'm asked how I feel.

Seriously.

But I don't tell them the truth.

Because colorful words are not so pretty.

Instead I say, "Even more tired than when I first laid down."

Duh.

So now I wait until the 18th to go to the doctor and hear the results.


Oh, and I went to bed right after my 6-year-old that night: 8 PM on the dot.

And I only woke up at 7 AM because my alarm went off.

Stupid school.