zzzZZZzzz..Sleep Study..zzzZZZzzz

One week of Sleep Deprivation, Radiotracers, and Wires on the Cranium.

-Saturday Night/Sunday Morning-

This is the first night of monitored sleep in the lab.
For the first time, I feel I am earning my pay.

Before today, the worse they could do is force me into some unnatural circadian rhythms. Tonight my face bristles with wires and electric hangers-on, plastic tape, and glue. When the tech finishes the application, I cannot wait to lumber to the mirror and recall some Lovecraft - but truly, this application of machinery is more invasive than I'd imagined. Low odds on this becoming the healthy night's sleep as intended; in addition to the physical discomfort of the wiring, I rarely do well the first night in a strange place.

Which is why I am surprised when I blink my eyes open at the sudden invasion of light after lying down (I thought) to check the equipment fit at 11:30. It's after midnight, (I think) but there is no clock in here to determine the time of the night shift interruption. He (or she?) mumbles an apology and disappears before I'm awake enough to respond. One thing is certain: I am now conscious of all wires, plastic tape pieces, glue dabs and electric hangers-on clinging to me in this darkened room. I will not be able to go back to sleep in a hurry.

Ever been tempted to scratch an itch? Imagine that you itch in over a dozen different places, but can't touch any of them because to do so would signal a third shift nurse with more glue and electrodes.

How long like this? Over an hour, maybe two. They tell me there is a man living in complete isolation a few doors down, sealed in an apartment for two weeks he has no way of chronicle. If my watch is made unavailable for the duration of the study, is that so different?

Coming morning, Scientist J. arrives for breakfast. When I describe last night's interruption, he acts surprised and a bit angry, and I realize that I may have inadvertently gotten someone in trouble. Because I feel alert - the loss of sleep hasn't adversely affected me yet - I check off "magnanimous" on the mood chart and change the subject.

Because it is 7:15 on a Sunday morning, we stop in the only place serving breakfast this early: McDonald's. That ought to be as healthy as the Radiotracers, but I think one trip every few years is healthy enough.

Back at the lab, the scientists set up some tests that require concentration and reaction time. I am determined to beat these tests, even under in the deprivation period, but I'll have to think up strategy for that later. There's just enough time left on Sunday to feed the cat, check messages, and head to the ballgame with the Uncle and his family, where I will be tempted to defy the study with $6.00 beer. More dangerous than alcohol is the sunstroke, which makes me so sleepy, I listen to the Anderson Little Report for almost thirty minutes before I realize that I shouldn't be hearing this at 5:20 in the afternoon. Turns out my clock has stopped (part of the study?) and I'm running late, running to the institute for the second night.