Sleepy Time

Just got back from a long-awaited appointment at the Center for Sleep and Wake Disorders. I'm officially one of those people who jumps on the bandwagon of fictitious pharma-industry-manufactured diseases that are impossible to say out loud without employing exaggerated air quotes, like "Restless." "Leg." "Syndrome." Robitussin and Windex just don't do the trick anymore, so figured I'd get my sleep issues checked out.

What a fascinating office! As soon as I walked in, I was given an individual dvd player and told to sit quietly through a video of the wonky-eyed doctor in charge of the clinic giving a brief description of some disordered sleeping issues.

Then, based on my answers to a series of questions, the doctor hypothesized that I may be suffering from narcolepsy. Narcolepsy! A condition that ranks behind only maybe Tourette's or Foot-for-a-face syndrome (spokesperson: Sarah Jessica Parker; discovery credit: Peter Griffin) in hilarious tragic-ness among diseases.

I mean to say, narcolepsy! I call confounding variable. I can hardly be faulted, after all, for replying, when asked me if I had been having trouble staying awake during daylight hours: "yes, during your video presentation earlier."

Anyway. I have to go back for an official overnight and daytime sleep study in three weeks, during the leadup to which I have to regulate my sleep patterns and keep a sleep journal complete with drawings for sleep duration, waking time, exercise, caffeine and alcohol units.

This should be a useful task. Although I am slightly worried because I'll be attending a beer festival during the journaling period. Based on my past behavior at similar events I'm probably going to have to supplement my journal with a hand-drawn legend explaining a couple new symbols.

Like regurgitation of alcohol units, and/or non-restorative hours of sleep obtained while lying blacked-out in a ditch by the side of the road.