Months ago I went and had a sleep study done. It was a very odd experience. As someone who is used to wireless everything, spending the night wired up to (what felt like) thousands of electrodes measuring my all, was very disconcerting. As someone who doesn't sleep well at the best of times, tangling myself up in cables does not improve the quality or quantity of my sleep.
The bottom line is that I sleep really badly. I had to do a couple more studies to ensure that the first one wasn't an aberration. Not fun. I'm lucky to get about an hour of unbroken sleep a night. As an added bonus I stop breathing approximately every 45 seconds. It's overrated. Really. On the plus side though, I have really high levels of oxygen in my blood. Painful bloodtests those ones. My specialist, who I really rate, told me that I was a freak, and that I should be falling asleep combing my hair.
Because of this, I've got a new addition to my bedroom. Unfortunately it isn't anyone from my list. At night I get to put on a very fetching headset, with the quaintly named nasal pillow. All night long this pillow pushes oxygen through my nose, stopping me from stopping breathing. Such fun.
Every night, I have fights with this machine. I haven't made it through one night with the mask staying on my face. I've found it over the other side of the room. I've managed to unplug the machine. I've managed to wrap the tube around my neck. I have no clue that I'm doing any of this until I wake up - usually somewhere between 3 and 4.30 in the morning. I don't think I'm a very nice person for an innocent machine to share a room with.
I'm noticing a difference though. Friday night I fell asleep without the machine, and woke up about 6 am. Yesterday was a complete write off. I was so tired I just wanted to sleep all day. I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, and if I'd combed my hair I would have fallen asleep.* I have to keep trying with this machine. I know what it does to me when I don't use it.
Thank goodness it shouldn't be permanent.
*I brushed it, I swear!
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep. Show all posts
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
I hear the secrets that you keep...
We had a lovely weekend away - photos to follow soon when I get my act together enough to download them. Again, it was one of those weekends with the odd dreaming and the bizarre talking in my sleep made the first conscious conversations each morning pretty peculiar.
Just after midnight Saturday night, I felt the need to tell the boy what I thought was wrong with Lindsay Lohan, and how he needed to stop being a bad influence on her. Apparently I wasn't very helpful explaining who she was or what was wrong with her. He still doesn't understand what I was talking about. Not sure that I do either.
Sunday morning we were doing that doze, read, doze thing that makes Sunday morning so lovely when you don't have to get up if you don't want to. I admit that I was doing more sleeping than reading. I got quite agitated at one point, and told him that we had to go to church. He tried to calm me down, and told me that church was over for the day. That's when I told him God was mad with him. Every church we drove past after that, he offered to stop for me. Helpful.
Sunday night in my dream I got stuck in my gmail inbox. It didn't matter what I did but whenever I spoke to someone they got a star next to them, and it was like the simpsons episode when homer disappears into the third dimension. I could move my arms and the inbox moved with them. Freaky. At least I wasn't the only one having odd dreams - he dreamt that I was yelling at him because he hadn't cleaned up his bedroom. The funniest part is that I've never met anyone with a tidier bedroom than him (and we won't talk about my messy bedroom!)
Monday morning he was trying to convince me that waking up for breakfast in bed was a good idea. Nah, wasn't interested. I did ask him to promise that we wouldn't call our children Sapphire and Kevin though. He thinks I'm nuts.
Just after midnight Saturday night, I felt the need to tell the boy what I thought was wrong with Lindsay Lohan, and how he needed to stop being a bad influence on her. Apparently I wasn't very helpful explaining who she was or what was wrong with her. He still doesn't understand what I was talking about. Not sure that I do either.
Sunday morning we were doing that doze, read, doze thing that makes Sunday morning so lovely when you don't have to get up if you don't want to. I admit that I was doing more sleeping than reading. I got quite agitated at one point, and told him that we had to go to church. He tried to calm me down, and told me that church was over for the day. That's when I told him God was mad with him. Every church we drove past after that, he offered to stop for me. Helpful.
Sunday night in my dream I got stuck in my gmail inbox. It didn't matter what I did but whenever I spoke to someone they got a star next to them, and it was like the simpsons episode when homer disappears into the third dimension. I could move my arms and the inbox moved with them. Freaky. At least I wasn't the only one having odd dreams - he dreamt that I was yelling at him because he hadn't cleaned up his bedroom. The funniest part is that I've never met anyone with a tidier bedroom than him (and we won't talk about my messy bedroom!)
Monday morning he was trying to convince me that waking up for breakfast in bed was a good idea. Nah, wasn't interested. I did ask him to promise that we wouldn't call our children Sapphire and Kevin though. He thinks I'm nuts.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Dreamin'
I'm having one of my semi regular bouts of insomnia at the moment. I'm seeing way more of the middle of the night than I want to, and I have to admit that much as I love my bed, I would love it more if I was sleeping in it, not lying in it wanting to be asleep.
When I have managed to sleep, I've been having some very bizarre dreams. While I napped this afternoon (yes, I'm having a couple of days off work all germy), I dreamt that I was travelling first class on Atlantic Airlines designing their mini golf course. I don't know why no one has thought of this earlier, I'm sure it would make long haul flights so much better. All of a sudden the cabin filled with smoke, and I was escorted to the emergency exit and got to use the slide. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! When I got to the bottom of the slide I found myself in a cupboard. I opened the cupboard door and found myself in my company's Sydney office.
Over the weekend, I dreamt that the boy and I had a pretty spectacular fight, and he managed to say all of the things that hurt me the most. And the look of scorn on his face. I woke up really upset, and it took him a bit of convincing for me to believe that he hadn't actually done all of those things.
One night last week, I woke my brother up with my screaming. I had been dreaming that gangland murderers Carl Williams and Tony Mokbel were chasing me around the inner city of Melbourne, just constantly trying to kill me and shooting at me. Whenever I found refuge from one of them, and tried to catch my breath, the other one would pop his head around something and start shooting again. Pretty bloody terrifying.
I really wish I knew what the hell was going on in my head. Roll on the sleep study.
When I have managed to sleep, I've been having some very bizarre dreams. While I napped this afternoon (yes, I'm having a couple of days off work all germy), I dreamt that I was travelling first class on Atlantic Airlines designing their mini golf course. I don't know why no one has thought of this earlier, I'm sure it would make long haul flights so much better. All of a sudden the cabin filled with smoke, and I was escorted to the emergency exit and got to use the slide. Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeee!! When I got to the bottom of the slide I found myself in a cupboard. I opened the cupboard door and found myself in my company's Sydney office.
Over the weekend, I dreamt that the boy and I had a pretty spectacular fight, and he managed to say all of the things that hurt me the most. And the look of scorn on his face. I woke up really upset, and it took him a bit of convincing for me to believe that he hadn't actually done all of those things.
One night last week, I woke my brother up with my screaming. I had been dreaming that gangland murderers Carl Williams and Tony Mokbel were chasing me around the inner city of Melbourne, just constantly trying to kill me and shooting at me. Whenever I found refuge from one of them, and tried to catch my breath, the other one would pop his head around something and start shooting again. Pretty bloody terrifying.
I really wish I knew what the hell was going on in my head. Roll on the sleep study.
Friday, May 11, 2007
He sees you when you are sleeping ....
I'm concerned. I seem to be suffering from prophecy in hindsight. Way back in December, I completed a meme about icky Christmas songs, and pointed out the creepiness of Santa watching me when you sleep.
My sleep patterns have been all over the place for the last few years. I can function for weeks on about 4 hours sleep a night, or can have horrendously broken nights sleep - pick an hour, any hour and I've seen it this week. I can also sleep really violently - when I got up the other day I had to rescue pillows and beddings from all over the room, and put the rest of the mattress back on the bad. I'm not even going into my dreams.
To cut a long story short, I've been given a referral to a sleep specialist. They will be doing a sleep study on me. I haven't been able to stop singing "Santa Clause is coming to town" since. My big concern though - what on earth do I wear to be watched sleep? I'm not your nightwear kind of girl - whenever I wear it it tends to end up on the floor, so I generally avoid it. Any suggestions?
My sleep patterns have been all over the place for the last few years. I can function for weeks on about 4 hours sleep a night, or can have horrendously broken nights sleep - pick an hour, any hour and I've seen it this week. I can also sleep really violently - when I got up the other day I had to rescue pillows and beddings from all over the room, and put the rest of the mattress back on the bad. I'm not even going into my dreams.
To cut a long story short, I've been given a referral to a sleep specialist. They will be doing a sleep study on me. I haven't been able to stop singing "Santa Clause is coming to town" since. My big concern though - what on earth do I wear to be watched sleep? I'm not your nightwear kind of girl - whenever I wear it it tends to end up on the floor, so I generally avoid it. Any suggestions?
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