![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
To Sleep, Perchance to Cream
Mar. 8th, 2021 03:49 pmI've been meaning to get around to scheduling a sleep schedule for years. I often sleep like ass, and for the past five years or so, I am frequently exhausted during the day. So this past weekend, I finally did get that sleep study done. I had a few folks asking me to do a write-up, so here you go! Of course, your experience may vary, as each place likely has its own protocols in place.
I was sent an email listing the following requirements:
- arrive in my pyjamas, ready for bed. Sleepwear must include tops and bottoms, irrespective of gender.
- bring a list of my medications
- bring my own water to drink
- shower and wash hair beforehand. No lotions should be on skin.
- brush teeth beforehand. It's not permitted onsite due to COVID safety measures
- arrive wearing a mask
When I arrived, one other person in PJs was waiting to be let in. Someone came down to greet us, give us COVID screening questions, and take our temperatures.
Then the COVID screening questions began, and I answered affirmatively to the first one: Have you had any headaches?
Upon seeing the sharp look aimed my way by the attendant, I explained that the headaches are one of the reasons I was having a sleep study done.
Here is where I make an aside about COVID screening questions. If someone has chronic health issues, these screening questions forces them to lie if they want to receive medical attention. As someone with a history of chronic IBS, migraines, post-nasal drip, and asthma who is menopausal, I have to lie for almost every question regarding symptoms. I regularly have hot flashes, nausea, headaches, lightheadedness, a runny nose, exhaustion, or a cough. That's just my life. My life reads like COVID symptoms. I would not misrepresent any sort of exposure I may have had to someone with COVID, though. And considering I am pretty much always inside my house and am not around anyone aside from my chosen family, my chances of contracting the disease are small.
After passing the COVID screening questions, we we admitted into the facility. It's an antiseptic-looking place all in shades of beige lit by fluorescent lighting fixtures. Long, narrow, labyrinthine corridors spiraled their way through the building. Doors lined both sides of the hallway. Most were closed, but through the open ones, I saw unadorned rooms with double beds. I was reminded of the time I applied for a receptionist position at a brothel, years ago. Long halls. Spartan, institutional design. Bad lighting. Bedrooms devoid of personality.
I worried that I might not be able to find the bathroom in the middle of the night. I worried more that I wouldn't be able to find my own bed again afterwards. I dropped my coat and water bottle on the chair by my bed, and decided to use the bathroom ahead of time, just in case. I was disturbed to realize that in spite of all the COVID precautions, and in spite of there being two soap dispensers, there was no soap to be had in the bathroom. I went back to my room and used hand sanitizer.
My room contained one double bed, one chair, a wastepaper basket, a head-height mirror, and a bunch of wires and tubes hanging from the wall. Directly over the bed was a domed camera, to monitor me while I slept (or tried to sleep). Two technicians came into the room. Both were wearing masks. They introduced themselves to me, and that's when I learned that I was going to be a training model. One of the people was a trainee, and I think we were still in their first few days of the job.
I was given some more paperwork to fill out, and they left me alone to fill it out. The questionnaire is flawed. It asks for specifics, like precisely how long you slept the night before, how many times you woke up during the night, what dosages of what medicines you take and at what time, etc. I only brought the names of my meds, not their dosages. I only knew how long I slept the last night because I was lucky enough to have received an Apple Watch as a Christmas present, and it tracks that stuff for me.
I brought a list of all the supplements and non-prescription medications I take, but there was nowhere on the paper where this could be recorded. Although it asked about caffeine and alcohol, and whether or not you've napped, it did not ask about cannabis, or about any controlled substances. I suspect that if someone is coked up to the eyeballs, their sleep is going to be affected by that. Considering medical records are supposed to be private, and since patients would like to know what is wrong with them, I think there should be a place to write any information along those lines.
The technicians came back after a while. I apologized for not knowing the precise times of the medications I had taken that day, and was told the dosages and times didn't matter.
I have questions about why this doesn't matter.
The senior attendant talked his way through how to attach all the various sensors, all for the benefit of his mentee. Thick gobbets of gloppy goo were applied to all the contact points on my head. I felt a little bit like I was being set up for motion capture or something, only with electrodes instead of itty bitty balls. I also felt a bit like Pinhead from Hellraiser, but when I got a chance to see myself in the mirror, I was disappointed to see I did not actually resemble a Cenobite, after all.
Pro tip: If you have long hair, wear it in braids so that it doesn't get tangled in the wires.
Most of the terms used were jargon and not especially comprehensible to a layperson. They were trying to be as symmetrical as possible with the distribution of electrodes, except when it came to my jaw. They only attached them to one side of my jaw, running down to the chin. They also attached sensors to each of my shins. Two more sensors were attached on my chest, about midway between collar bone and nipple.
(The gender essentialist explanation for this was weird. Apparently, women require a different placement than men because of breasts, and obese women may need to have the sensors instead placed on their back. I don't see why this had to be explained in a gendered context. It would make much more sense to treat each body on a case by case basis. There are lots of men with breasts, lots of women without, and plenty of obese people of any gender who would require the sensor to be placed on their backs. But yeah....)
Next came a breathing monitor which rested on my top lip and inside my nostrils. The piece de resistance was a blood oxygen monitor which clipped onto my right forefinger. I was helped to lie down on my back, and told to hold very still. Then they left the room.
Pro tip: You cannot sleep on your belly during a sleep study. You can roll from side to side, but not on your belly or everything will be a tangled mess.
I held very still and meditated with my eyes closed, because they left the lights on. I have a lot of practice with meditation, which is an extremely useful skill to have when it comes to medical procedures and testing. I recommend learning to meditate to everyone. It's a very useful skill at keeping yourself calm and relaxed. With these skills, I was able to ignore the discomfort of all the equipment attached to me.
I don't know how long I remained in that position. I didn't know if they'd forgotten about me, or if this is just the way my night was going to go. After what might have been an hour or so, I dozed off in that position.
BZZZZZLAAAATT went the intercom on the wall, and I yelped and damned near leapt out of my skin. An apologetic voice came through. Yes, they had forgotten about me.
They came back, asked me a few more questions about my usual sleep, then finally let me get to sleep for real. Kinda.
After a while, I could hear people talking loudly somewhere else in the building. It kept going. And going. And going. Finally I said, in my normal speaking voice, "You're not going to get any sleep data out of me if I can't sleep because of all the noise."
They apologized again through the intercom and said it would be over soon, and it was.
I managed to sleep through the night, being woken up once by the senior technician to correct the breathing monitor which had come out of my nose.
I was woken up around 5:30 am, and was out the door before 6. Kyle was nice enough to scrub all the glop off my head for me when we got home, and then I went back to bed and slept in until after 11.
I won't be getting any results from the test for a few weeks.
Pro tip: If you have an Only Fans account, maybe you can make some extra money with photos of yourself covered in the gloppy stuff. I called it Gluekakke. It rather looks like that, too. HA!
I was sent an email listing the following requirements:
- arrive in my pyjamas, ready for bed. Sleepwear must include tops and bottoms, irrespective of gender.
- bring a list of my medications
- bring my own water to drink
- shower and wash hair beforehand. No lotions should be on skin.
- brush teeth beforehand. It's not permitted onsite due to COVID safety measures
- arrive wearing a mask
When I arrived, one other person in PJs was waiting to be let in. Someone came down to greet us, give us COVID screening questions, and take our temperatures.
Then the COVID screening questions began, and I answered affirmatively to the first one: Have you had any headaches?
Upon seeing the sharp look aimed my way by the attendant, I explained that the headaches are one of the reasons I was having a sleep study done.
Here is where I make an aside about COVID screening questions. If someone has chronic health issues, these screening questions forces them to lie if they want to receive medical attention. As someone with a history of chronic IBS, migraines, post-nasal drip, and asthma who is menopausal, I have to lie for almost every question regarding symptoms. I regularly have hot flashes, nausea, headaches, lightheadedness, a runny nose, exhaustion, or a cough. That's just my life. My life reads like COVID symptoms. I would not misrepresent any sort of exposure I may have had to someone with COVID, though. And considering I am pretty much always inside my house and am not around anyone aside from my chosen family, my chances of contracting the disease are small.
After passing the COVID screening questions, we we admitted into the facility. It's an antiseptic-looking place all in shades of beige lit by fluorescent lighting fixtures. Long, narrow, labyrinthine corridors spiraled their way through the building. Doors lined both sides of the hallway. Most were closed, but through the open ones, I saw unadorned rooms with double beds. I was reminded of the time I applied for a receptionist position at a brothel, years ago. Long halls. Spartan, institutional design. Bad lighting. Bedrooms devoid of personality.
I worried that I might not be able to find the bathroom in the middle of the night. I worried more that I wouldn't be able to find my own bed again afterwards. I dropped my coat and water bottle on the chair by my bed, and decided to use the bathroom ahead of time, just in case. I was disturbed to realize that in spite of all the COVID precautions, and in spite of there being two soap dispensers, there was no soap to be had in the bathroom. I went back to my room and used hand sanitizer.
My room contained one double bed, one chair, a wastepaper basket, a head-height mirror, and a bunch of wires and tubes hanging from the wall. Directly over the bed was a domed camera, to monitor me while I slept (or tried to sleep). Two technicians came into the room. Both were wearing masks. They introduced themselves to me, and that's when I learned that I was going to be a training model. One of the people was a trainee, and I think we were still in their first few days of the job.
I was given some more paperwork to fill out, and they left me alone to fill it out. The questionnaire is flawed. It asks for specifics, like precisely how long you slept the night before, how many times you woke up during the night, what dosages of what medicines you take and at what time, etc. I only brought the names of my meds, not their dosages. I only knew how long I slept the last night because I was lucky enough to have received an Apple Watch as a Christmas present, and it tracks that stuff for me.
I brought a list of all the supplements and non-prescription medications I take, but there was nowhere on the paper where this could be recorded. Although it asked about caffeine and alcohol, and whether or not you've napped, it did not ask about cannabis, or about any controlled substances. I suspect that if someone is coked up to the eyeballs, their sleep is going to be affected by that. Considering medical records are supposed to be private, and since patients would like to know what is wrong with them, I think there should be a place to write any information along those lines.
The technicians came back after a while. I apologized for not knowing the precise times of the medications I had taken that day, and was told the dosages and times didn't matter.
I have questions about why this doesn't matter.
The senior attendant talked his way through how to attach all the various sensors, all for the benefit of his mentee. Thick gobbets of gloppy goo were applied to all the contact points on my head. I felt a little bit like I was being set up for motion capture or something, only with electrodes instead of itty bitty balls. I also felt a bit like Pinhead from Hellraiser, but when I got a chance to see myself in the mirror, I was disappointed to see I did not actually resemble a Cenobite, after all.
Pro tip: If you have long hair, wear it in braids so that it doesn't get tangled in the wires.
Most of the terms used were jargon and not especially comprehensible to a layperson. They were trying to be as symmetrical as possible with the distribution of electrodes, except when it came to my jaw. They only attached them to one side of my jaw, running down to the chin. They also attached sensors to each of my shins. Two more sensors were attached on my chest, about midway between collar bone and nipple.
(The gender essentialist explanation for this was weird. Apparently, women require a different placement than men because of breasts, and obese women may need to have the sensors instead placed on their back. I don't see why this had to be explained in a gendered context. It would make much more sense to treat each body on a case by case basis. There are lots of men with breasts, lots of women without, and plenty of obese people of any gender who would require the sensor to be placed on their backs. But yeah....)
Next came a breathing monitor which rested on my top lip and inside my nostrils. The piece de resistance was a blood oxygen monitor which clipped onto my right forefinger. I was helped to lie down on my back, and told to hold very still. Then they left the room.
Pro tip: You cannot sleep on your belly during a sleep study. You can roll from side to side, but not on your belly or everything will be a tangled mess.
I held very still and meditated with my eyes closed, because they left the lights on. I have a lot of practice with meditation, which is an extremely useful skill to have when it comes to medical procedures and testing. I recommend learning to meditate to everyone. It's a very useful skill at keeping yourself calm and relaxed. With these skills, I was able to ignore the discomfort of all the equipment attached to me.
I don't know how long I remained in that position. I didn't know if they'd forgotten about me, or if this is just the way my night was going to go. After what might have been an hour or so, I dozed off in that position.
BZZZZZLAAAATT went the intercom on the wall, and I yelped and damned near leapt out of my skin. An apologetic voice came through. Yes, they had forgotten about me.
They came back, asked me a few more questions about my usual sleep, then finally let me get to sleep for real. Kinda.
After a while, I could hear people talking loudly somewhere else in the building. It kept going. And going. And going. Finally I said, in my normal speaking voice, "You're not going to get any sleep data out of me if I can't sleep because of all the noise."
They apologized again through the intercom and said it would be over soon, and it was.
I managed to sleep through the night, being woken up once by the senior technician to correct the breathing monitor which had come out of my nose.
I was woken up around 5:30 am, and was out the door before 6. Kyle was nice enough to scrub all the glop off my head for me when we got home, and then I went back to bed and slept in until after 11.
I won't be getting any results from the test for a few weeks.
Pro tip: If you have an Only Fans account, maybe you can make some extra money with photos of yourself covered in the gloppy stuff. I called it Gluekakke. It rather looks like that, too. HA!
