It was straight out of a '70s sci-fi flick: sterile hallway, a young man in beige scrubs with his hair tied back, my "sleep tech" Kayne. Over twenty "Sleep Suites" yet it seemed we were the only ones in the building. Suite 17, my room, full of wires, gear and a remote-controlled video camera. Just relax and watch TV for a couple of hours, with electrodes glued to my legs, chest and head, as the drugs kick in. Am I going to wake up as a programmed zombie?
It was difficult to sleep with the wires everywhere. I woke up cold and had to pee. "Hey" I say. "Be right there" Kayne replies over the intercom. He comes in and helps me up, disconnects the wires and I go to the bathroom. He brings another blanket. I fall asleep and dream that he pushes my bed outside because he double-booked the room. Then he comes in and tells me I'm done. It's 4:10am. He had not attached a C-PAP, but that doesn't mean I won't need one. He of course can't tell me the results. That's up to the doctor in a month.
Time to shower and then get some breakfast and go to work early, as opposed to driving home and turning around and driving to work. They told me ahead of time that it would be a "normal" night's rest, but that was way wrong. As Kayne said, it was a medical test, they needed to get good data, it was not supposed to be a comfortable night's sleep! So I fought through the fog in my brain from a bad, weird-night's sleep all day. And I'll have to go back if they decide I need a C-PAP so it can be set properly.
I can't wait - but then, I might just be programmed to say that!
7 years ago