February is a month out of the year that people tend to enjoy, loathe or hate.
People who enjoy it are usually happily in love and able to celebrate the festivities that accompany Valentine's Day. Chocolates, flowers, and all the other commercialized nonsense associated with February 14, as it were. Conversely, people who hate it tend to be in the opposite scenario. Maybe they've had a bad break-up or gotten divorced and haven't yet been able to make peace and move on to whatever comes next for them. In the middle are those folks who just plain loathe the month of February which, at least this year, is where I find myself. Not for any kind of marital issues, mind you - rather issues of the sort that come from dealing with the Internal Revenue Service and hospitals/medical insurance providers.
My wife & I are pretty good at handling our personal finances. That's something I'm proud of seeing as how it seems like you hear of just as many, if not more, young couples splitting up as a result of stress over financial matters as you do matters of infidelity. We make more good decisions than we do bad ones, I would say, as neither of us are particularly prone to going off on spending sprees that would put us out of whack. We both have good jobs and we make sure our bills get paid; we sometimes have to juggle with more running chainsaws in the air than we'd like, but who doesn't these days?
Filing taxes has never been a particularly rosy endeavor for me. As far back as I can remember, it was always the case that I would wind up getting a little bit of money back from the state of South Carolina only to then have Uncle Sam turn around and say "Wait, I need that too, sorry - maybe next year?" (while snickering under his breath, no less). It was a frustrating cycle when I was single because I would see all these other folks out enjoying their suddenly bloated wallets, meanwhile I'm eating bologna sandwiches and drinking tap water.
Things have improved only somewhat since my wife & I have been married. If I remember correctly I believe we may have looked into the prospect of filing separately our first year of marriage. That idea got squashed quickly when it developed that I would've had to fork over a substantial amount of money to the IRS. Suffice to say that things got much better when we combined our information into a joint filing, but be that as it may I felt bad then and I have ever since because it seemed as though I (through no real fault of my own other than trying to earn a living, I guess) was damaging our potential for getting back a decent a return.
Since Jill and I have been married, we have always taken what we got back on our taxes and put it towards our annual trip to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. We've been lucky in that we've gotten back enough to pay for the rental of the house we stay in; this year we were particularly fortunate in that we were able to handle that expense plus pay off the majority of what we had left over on the amount due for our next Walt Disney World adventure (which is coming up in May for the 2014 edition of Star Wars Weekends).
Those were monies which were returned to us by the state of South Carolina, for which I am thankful. We aren't getting any money back from the federal government, however. Nope, not one cent. As a matter of fact, we owe the Internal Revenue Service $190. Yes, you read that correctly - one hundred and ninety dollars.
When my wife informed me of that (yes, she does our taxes - because she's awesome, that's why), I couldn't help but laugh. $190? Really? I'm not begging for punishment here but what is $190 to the United States government? If you look at the nation's debt, we rack up roughly $50,000 PER SECOND in expenditures that, as a nation, we can't actually afford. How is our measly $190 going to help matters, given the state of things?
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we don't owe more. It just seems like a futile amount in the grand scheme of things, is all. That's not enough money to hire a decent plumber, for crying out loud. What are they going to do with it, pay the guy who shines some senator's shoes? That gives me a great idea, actually. I think every tax paying citizen of the United States should receive an itemized list of where every single penny of their taxes are spent. I think we deserve that level of transparency seeing as how they, on some level, apparently know about every phone call, email, text message, etc. that we generate.
Actually, I take that back. I don't want to know what they're doing with our money. It's bad enough that our government takes from us as much as it does, knowing how it's being spent might only make the situation that much more frustrating. "My money contributed to a study on whether or not cocaine makes Japanese quail engage in sexually risky behavior? (Yes, it happened.) Well isn't that lovely..."
Adding to this frustration is the fact that during the month of February I received an unexpected medical bill related to the sleep study I had done last year (click here to read about that experience, if you haven't already). This is on top of what I'm already paying the hospital in monthly
intervals, mind you; from what I've been able to gather it's an adjusted sum that my insurance didn't cover. (Insurance being another deduction that gets sucked out of my paycheck which goes towards a service that rarely gets used then doesn't seem to help much when I need it.) Fortunately it wasn't an absurd amount of money (it's in the area of $60) but when you consider I had that procedure almost a year ago and I'm just now getting this bill, it left me wondering if there's not a statute of limitations on this kind of thing. Am I going to be 40 and get another bill related to this thing or what?
I hate to complain via my blog because I know people don't necessarily enjoy reading this kind of trite, but the simple fact of the matter is that this arena is one of the better opportunities I have to vent. Getting out your frustrations is healthy, and it's even better if you can do so in a constructive manner. (In my mind, it was either this or I go knock over a gas station; I think I chose wisely.) Trust me when I say that I would sooner write about a dozen different things than this - even so, this blog is about my life and February 2014 has been affected by these issues. It's one of those deals where you have to take the good with the bad, the uplifting moments with the frustrating ones, and try to look forward to whatever comes next. We shouldn't expect defeat, after all, because that only makes things worse.
Showing posts with label sleep study. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sleep study. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Friday, June 14, 2013
My Check-Up & Sleep Study Results
UPDATE - 6/24/2013: My wife & I were on vacation in Myrtle Beach last week and while we were gone we had our mail held. Suffice to say we had a full box when we returned on Saturday. One piece of said mail was a statement from my insurance provider as to how much my sleep study cost and how much they were going to pay. The total bill from Lexington Medical Center and Lexington Sleep Solutions was $5,280. All I'll say is that than God I have some form of insurance because that's an insane amount of money for a medical procedure that involved no surgery or extended care.
Last month, I posted a blog entry wherein I went into great detail regarding the ordeal that was my sleep study experience. I'm not going to rehash any of that seeing as how pretty much everything relevant to my take on what happened that fateful evening has already been documented there, however I will take the opportunity to reiterate the fact that unless it is absolutely medically necessary I would never recommend someone willingly go through that. (It's a wretched thing and the technology behind it seems incredibly archaic compared to what's out there these days.) It's been a couple weeks since then and I've had a chance to revisit my physician in order to talk about the results of the sleep study as well as the blood work I had done during my initial consultation.
The short version of this is for me to say that I'm apparently mostly healthy, except for when it comes to how I sleep. Here's the long version.
Lexington Sleep Solutions called me roughly a week ago to let me know that the doctors there had been able to interpret the data from my sleep study and that they wanted me to come back in to discuss the results. This was news to me as I had been under the impression that I'd be able to return to my physician in order to see what the next steps would be as I'd asked that the results be sent to her office. I continued the conversation with the person I spoke to from LSS and they said the results had been sent to my physician; she went on to answer some of my questions about the study, particularly whether or not it looked as if I would need to begin using a CPAP machine.
I asked the question even though I already knew the answer. "Yes, they are recommending that you begin treatment with CPAP." My next biggest question was did I actually stop breathing during the study? (That's what I've been concerned about since I got put on this path, whether or not I'm potentially in respiratory distress while I'm sleeping.) She told me that I did not stop breathing (this echoed what the technician who oversaw my sleep study said when I asked him the same question) however my oxygen levels weren't as high as they should be - mine were around 88% at certain points and nominal is between 98-90%. The LSS representative went on to say that they would be referring me to a medical equipment vendor that would be able to go about assisting me in obtaining a machine. I wasn't ready to go down that road yet as I wanted to see the results of the study myself. I told her as much and said that I'd look into scheduling a follow-up with my physician.
A few things to keep in mind from this initial conversation:
1) They want me to come back, several times - repeat business, in other words
2) They recommended me for a machine - this was a foregone conclusion in my mind
3) I've been told by 2 individuals employed by LSS that I did not stop breathing - 2, count 'em, TWO
4) They were going to send me to a specific vendor for the CPAP machine - keeping the money all in the family, as it were
I point those things out because if you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you know how I am - I'm not bashful about admitting that I constantly look for ulterior motives in everything that I encounter. I've been around enough hustlers in my day to know that they're there, even though nowadays they've gotten exceedingly skilled at operating as legitimate entities. Bankers, doctors, lawyers, politicians, etc. To quote Harry Dresden (from author Jim Butcher's excellent series, The Dresden Files), one of my favorite literary protagonists, "Paranoid? Probably. But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that there isn't an invisible demon about to eat your face."
That said, I went in Wednesday (June 12) for a follow-up with my physician. (Remember how I mentioned that LSS told me my sleep study results had been sent to my doctor? Turns out they hadn't been when I set up my appointment; a nurse had to request them on my behalf.) I have to say that going into my appointment I was more nervous about the results of my blood work than I was about that of my sleep study seeing as how I thought I had a good grasp of what was going on there. I suffer from White Coat Syndrome, that being an automatic sense of anxiety related to doctors, doctor's offices, and everything therein. I probably have high hypertension anyway (runs in the family, just like the red hair and freckles) but the WCS doesn't help matters as I know they're going to tell me I'm fat and that my blood pressure is elevated. I guess it comes from never having had many positive or reenforcing experiences in that kind of setting.
My appointment was for 10 AM and we (as in my wife & I - yes, she came with me) got to the office just in time as we encountered some unexpected construction on the way there. It's not logical that I think this way but I've always believed that if you have an appointment for a certain event, said event should happen at that specific moment in time or at least in a reasonable approximate time frame. You can probably guess where I'm going with this; I wasn't taken into an examination room until almost 10:30. The optimist in me was thinking we'd be out of there by 10:45 but that wound up being an unrealistic expectation.
Sure enough, the nurse taking my vital information confirmed that I'm still fat and my blood pressure is high.
My physician went over the results of my sleep study. She caught us completely off guard by telling us that I did, in fact, have several apneas during the test. This was in stark contrast to what both the technician and the other representative from LSS had told me. Suffice to say that my wife and I were shocked - neither of us are particularly good at hiding our emotions in terms of our expression and I gather we did an especially poor job of that in this moment seeing as how my physician seemed set aback by our reactions. It's not quite like being told you're cancer free by one doctor only to then be told you have a terminal case by another, but be that as it may the shock was real.
From there we talked about my blood work. Like I mentioned earlier in this entry, my blood work was what I was truly concerned about. For one, the sample had been drawn without my knowing of it in advance so I naturally assumed my having not fasted prior to the test would have affected its outcome. I was surprised again, this time by some good news. My blood work came back spotless - no issues of any kind. No signs of diabetes, cholesterol issues, or anything else for that matter. I was half expecting her to tell me I had 8 weeks to live by that point in time. In the grand scheme of things, I'm very happy that my levels were good as that's a real sense of your overall health. I'm grateful to know that all this clean living I've been doing for years - other than my gravy addiction, that is - has paid off in that regard.
My physician wrote me a prescription for a CPAP/BiPAP machine, a sleep aid, and something for my blood pressure. (She also said I should take a cruise as my vitamin D levels were lower than they should've been - if only I could turn in a booking confirmation from Carnival to my insurance company without them laughing at me...) We discussed my having been generally uncomfortable wearing the CPAP mask, which is where the recommendation for the sleeping pill came from. I don't like that idea, seeing as how I've never wanted to get on a medication that might possibly lead to a dependence, but she's assured me that it's mild and that it will help me to relax while wearing the mask. I have an appointment to she her again in 3 months, so we'll see where I stand then with these changes to my lifestyle.
I was given a copy of the report from my sleep study to take with me. It goes without saying that this has made for interesting reading seeing as how there are a whole slew of $25 medical terms used within it, the meanings of which I didn't know. ("Titration", for example, which is an analysis of a component's concentration - oxygen, in this case - in a given sample.) I spent some time going over them, as well as the report as a whole. While I'm not a doctor I am kind of smart, I'm rather fond of numbers, and this document is filled with them. Here's a breakdown of the statistics.
Length of sleep study - 411.5 minutes (approximately 7 hours)
Actual time spent asleep - 338.5 minutes (around 5.5 hours)
Time to sleep onset - 27 minutes
Time to REM sleep onset - 198 minutes (3 hours, 18 minutes)
Apnea-hypopnea ratio prior to CPAP treatment - 0/95
Apnea-hypopnea ratio after CPAP treatment 6/21
Two things stick out to me immediately:
1) The reported length of time I was asleep
I'm splitting hairs with this but I really don't believe that I slept that much during the sleep study. Here again is a reason why it would've been great to have had a visible clock in that room I was cooped up inside of as it would've served as a point of reference for my documentation purposes, if nothing else. I'm sure there's a brainwave pattern they're looking for from the data being collected by way of the wires that were on my head which indicated I was "asleep", so I probably don't have a leg to stand on here in trying to argue my point. (How do they know my brainwaves are like everyone else's? It's conceivable what signifies sleep in the minds of others might mean I want a steak burrito with extra guacamole in mine.) It did not seem like I received the amount of sleep that the report states. (Are you asleep if you're conscious enough to be able to have an internal dialogue about how you wish the walls were thicker so that you wouldn't be bothered by the guy in the next room sawing down redwoods?) I certainly didn't feel rested the next morning, and I'm sure that could be used against me seeing as how it would be fodder for the diagnosis that I don't sleep all that well anyway because of the apneas and hypopneas.
2) The comparison of my apnea/hypopnea ratio with and without CPAP treatment
I don't believe I've taken the time to define either of these terms. An apnea is a suspension of external breathing, whereas a hypopnea is an episode of overly shallow breathing. With that in mind, see if you can follow along with my logic here and why I don't see how CPAP helped me.
Again, I'm not a doctor but the fact that I didn't have any apneas initially then had apneas during the period of sleep where I was receiving CPAP treatment doesn't give me a shred of confidence that this machine is beneficial to me. It's supposed to prevent apneas from happening, not cause them.
I did a bit of research (you know what that means - I Googled something!) and I found a study published in 2007 by the Journal of Clinical Sleep Medicine (which is the official publication of the American Academy of Sleep Medicine) titled Central Sleep Apnea on Commencement of Continuous Positive Airway Pressure in Patients with a Primary Diagnosis of Obstructive Sleep Apnea-Hypopnea (you can see the report for yourself here). There's a lot of medical jargon to it, as you might expect, which is why I won't bore you with a synopsis. Here's the important part, the conclusion.
So where am I going from here? I am pleased that my blood work was in good standing. That shows me that the exercise I'm getting and the things I'm eating are sufficient to keeping me in good health. I'm planning on checking around to see if I can rent a CPAP machine, although if it turns out that my insurance will pay for the whole thing I may wind up going ahead and purchasing one. I'm willing to try it for the sake of satiating my wife and my physician, even though I don't believe it's going to help me in the long run. Of course, I'm going to start taking the medication for my blood pressure immediately. I guess I'm lucky that that's all I have to concern myself with as of right now. We'll see where we stand in September as that's when I'm scheduled to see my physician again.
Last month, I posted a blog entry wherein I went into great detail regarding the ordeal that was my sleep study experience. I'm not going to rehash any of that seeing as how pretty much everything relevant to my take on what happened that fateful evening has already been documented there, however I will take the opportunity to reiterate the fact that unless it is absolutely medically necessary I would never recommend someone willingly go through that. (It's a wretched thing and the technology behind it seems incredibly archaic compared to what's out there these days.) It's been a couple weeks since then and I've had a chance to revisit my physician in order to talk about the results of the sleep study as well as the blood work I had done during my initial consultation.
The short version of this is for me to say that I'm apparently mostly healthy, except for when it comes to how I sleep. Here's the long version.
Lexington Sleep Solutions called me roughly a week ago to let me know that the doctors there had been able to interpret the data from my sleep study and that they wanted me to come back in to discuss the results. This was news to me as I had been under the impression that I'd be able to return to my physician in order to see what the next steps would be as I'd asked that the results be sent to her office. I continued the conversation with the person I spoke to from LSS and they said the results had been sent to my physician; she went on to answer some of my questions about the study, particularly whether or not it looked as if I would need to begin using a CPAP machine.
I asked the question even though I already knew the answer. "Yes, they are recommending that you begin treatment with CPAP." My next biggest question was did I actually stop breathing during the study? (That's what I've been concerned about since I got put on this path, whether or not I'm potentially in respiratory distress while I'm sleeping.) She told me that I did not stop breathing (this echoed what the technician who oversaw my sleep study said when I asked him the same question) however my oxygen levels weren't as high as they should be - mine were around 88% at certain points and nominal is between 98-90%. The LSS representative went on to say that they would be referring me to a medical equipment vendor that would be able to go about assisting me in obtaining a machine. I wasn't ready to go down that road yet as I wanted to see the results of the study myself. I told her as much and said that I'd look into scheduling a follow-up with my physician.
A few things to keep in mind from this initial conversation:
1) They want me to come back, several times - repeat business, in other words
2) They recommended me for a machine - this was a foregone conclusion in my mind
3) I've been told by 2 individuals employed by LSS that I did not stop breathing - 2, count 'em, TWO
4) They were going to send me to a specific vendor for the CPAP machine - keeping the money all in the family, as it were
I point those things out because if you've been reading my blog for any length of time, you know how I am - I'm not bashful about admitting that I constantly look for ulterior motives in everything that I encounter. I've been around enough hustlers in my day to know that they're there, even though nowadays they've gotten exceedingly skilled at operating as legitimate entities. Bankers, doctors, lawyers, politicians, etc. To quote Harry Dresden (from author Jim Butcher's excellent series, The Dresden Files), one of my favorite literary protagonists, "Paranoid? Probably. But just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that there isn't an invisible demon about to eat your face."
That said, I went in Wednesday (June 12) for a follow-up with my physician. (Remember how I mentioned that LSS told me my sleep study results had been sent to my doctor? Turns out they hadn't been when I set up my appointment; a nurse had to request them on my behalf.) I have to say that going into my appointment I was more nervous about the results of my blood work than I was about that of my sleep study seeing as how I thought I had a good grasp of what was going on there. I suffer from White Coat Syndrome, that being an automatic sense of anxiety related to doctors, doctor's offices, and everything therein. I probably have high hypertension anyway (runs in the family, just like the red hair and freckles) but the WCS doesn't help matters as I know they're going to tell me I'm fat and that my blood pressure is elevated. I guess it comes from never having had many positive or reenforcing experiences in that kind of setting.
My appointment was for 10 AM and we (as in my wife & I - yes, she came with me) got to the office just in time as we encountered some unexpected construction on the way there. It's not logical that I think this way but I've always believed that if you have an appointment for a certain event, said event should happen at that specific moment in time or at least in a reasonable approximate time frame. You can probably guess where I'm going with this; I wasn't taken into an examination room until almost 10:30. The optimist in me was thinking we'd be out of there by 10:45 but that wound up being an unrealistic expectation.
Sure enough, the nurse taking my vital information confirmed that I'm still fat and my blood pressure is high.
My physician went over the results of my sleep study. She caught us completely off guard by telling us that I did, in fact, have several apneas during the test. This was in stark contrast to what both the technician and the other representative from LSS had told me. Suffice to say that my wife and I were shocked - neither of us are particularly good at hiding our emotions in terms of our expression and I gather we did an especially poor job of that in this moment seeing as how my physician seemed set aback by our reactions. It's not quite like being told you're cancer free by one doctor only to then be told you have a terminal case by another, but be that as it may the shock was real.
From there we talked about my blood work. Like I mentioned earlier in this entry, my blood work was what I was truly concerned about. For one, the sample had been drawn without my knowing of it in advance so I naturally assumed my having not fasted prior to the test would have affected its outcome. I was surprised again, this time by some good news. My blood work came back spotless - no issues of any kind. No signs of diabetes, cholesterol issues, or anything else for that matter. I was half expecting her to tell me I had 8 weeks to live by that point in time. In the grand scheme of things, I'm very happy that my levels were good as that's a real sense of your overall health. I'm grateful to know that all this clean living I've been doing for years - other than my gravy addiction, that is - has paid off in that regard.
My physician wrote me a prescription for a CPAP/BiPAP machine, a sleep aid, and something for my blood pressure. (She also said I should take a cruise as my vitamin D levels were lower than they should've been - if only I could turn in a booking confirmation from Carnival to my insurance company without them laughing at me...) We discussed my having been generally uncomfortable wearing the CPAP mask, which is where the recommendation for the sleeping pill came from. I don't like that idea, seeing as how I've never wanted to get on a medication that might possibly lead to a dependence, but she's assured me that it's mild and that it will help me to relax while wearing the mask. I have an appointment to she her again in 3 months, so we'll see where I stand then with these changes to my lifestyle.
I was given a copy of the report from my sleep study to take with me. It goes without saying that this has made for interesting reading seeing as how there are a whole slew of $25 medical terms used within it, the meanings of which I didn't know. ("Titration", for example, which is an analysis of a component's concentration - oxygen, in this case - in a given sample.) I spent some time going over them, as well as the report as a whole. While I'm not a doctor I am kind of smart, I'm rather fond of numbers, and this document is filled with them. Here's a breakdown of the statistics.
Length of sleep study - 411.5 minutes (approximately 7 hours)
Actual time spent asleep - 338.5 minutes (around 5.5 hours)
Time to sleep onset - 27 minutes
Time to REM sleep onset - 198 minutes (3 hours, 18 minutes)
Apnea-hypopnea ratio prior to CPAP treatment - 0/95
Apnea-hypopnea ratio after CPAP treatment 6/21
Two things stick out to me immediately:
1) The reported length of time I was asleep
I'm splitting hairs with this but I really don't believe that I slept that much during the sleep study. Here again is a reason why it would've been great to have had a visible clock in that room I was cooped up inside of as it would've served as a point of reference for my documentation purposes, if nothing else. I'm sure there's a brainwave pattern they're looking for from the data being collected by way of the wires that were on my head which indicated I was "asleep", so I probably don't have a leg to stand on here in trying to argue my point. (How do they know my brainwaves are like everyone else's? It's conceivable what signifies sleep in the minds of others might mean I want a steak burrito with extra guacamole in mine.) It did not seem like I received the amount of sleep that the report states. (Are you asleep if you're conscious enough to be able to have an internal dialogue about how you wish the walls were thicker so that you wouldn't be bothered by the guy in the next room sawing down redwoods?) I certainly didn't feel rested the next morning, and I'm sure that could be used against me seeing as how it would be fodder for the diagnosis that I don't sleep all that well anyway because of the apneas and hypopneas.
2) The comparison of my apnea/hypopnea ratio with and without CPAP treatment
I don't believe I've taken the time to define either of these terms. An apnea is a suspension of external breathing, whereas a hypopnea is an episode of overly shallow breathing. With that in mind, see if you can follow along with my logic here and why I don't see how CPAP helped me.
Prior to CPAP treatment
0 apneas, 95 hypopneas
With CPAP treatment
6 apneas, 21 hypopneas
Again, I'm not a doctor but the fact that I didn't have any apneas initially then had apneas during the period of sleep where I was receiving CPAP treatment doesn't give me a shred of confidence that this machine is beneficial to me. It's supposed to prevent apneas from happening, not cause them.
I did a bit of research (you know what that means - I Googled something!) and I found a study published in 2007 by the Journal of Clinical Sleep Medicine (which is the official publication of the American Academy of Sleep Medicine) titled Central Sleep Apnea on Commencement of Continuous Positive Airway Pressure in Patients with a Primary Diagnosis of Obstructive Sleep Apnea-Hypopnea (you can see the report for yourself here). There's a lot of medical jargon to it, as you might expect, which is why I won't bore you with a synopsis. Here's the important part, the conclusion.
"CSA (central sleep apnea) on commencing CPAP amongst patients with a primary diagnosis of OSAH (obstructive sleep apnea-hypopnea)
appears to be relatively common. Male sex and past history of cardiac
disease are potential risk factors. These patients seem to have more
disturbed sleep on their baseline studies, are prescribed somewhat
higher CPAP pressures and may become long-term CPAP failures."
So where am I going from here? I am pleased that my blood work was in good standing. That shows me that the exercise I'm getting and the things I'm eating are sufficient to keeping me in good health. I'm planning on checking around to see if I can rent a CPAP machine, although if it turns out that my insurance will pay for the whole thing I may wind up going ahead and purchasing one. I'm willing to try it for the sake of satiating my wife and my physician, even though I don't believe it's going to help me in the long run. Of course, I'm going to start taking the medication for my blood pressure immediately. I guess I'm lucky that that's all I have to concern myself with as of right now. We'll see where we stand in September as that's when I'm scheduled to see my physician again.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
My Sleep Study Experience
I've decided to depict my sleep study experience via something that resembles a "live blog" as I hope to chronicle the occasion in stages as events occur. I don't know what to expect but like everything else I add to this journal of mine, what's contained herein will be my version of history told from my unique point of view. Expect plenty of sarcasm and jokes only one or two people will get, in other words.
May 22, 2013
8:47 PM - I'm having my sleep study done at Lexington Sleep Solutions, which is part of the Lexington Medical Center in Lexington, SC. (With this blog entry, I think I'll meet my lifetime quota for usage of the word "Lexington".) They sent me a patient information packet and questionnaire in the mail a week or so ago and I'm just now getting around to filling it all out. It's fairly basic stuff - medical history, family data, next of kin, insurance providers, that sort of thing. One question caught my attention as being too absurd not to single out.
"Do you suffer from memory loss issues?" with the possible answers being "Yes", "No", and "I Don't Know".
This might just be me, but wouldn't a response of "I Don't Know" to that question equate with a "Yes"? I believe it would, although it might also indicate some other form of psychosis.
May 23, 2013
7:56 PM - Packing my bag, it's like I'm 8 years old and getting ready for a sleep over except I'm not going to stay with a friend, I'm going to sleep in a strange room on a bed that God only knows who has occupied previously. I have a change of clothes, pajamas, toiletries, my camera (You didn't think I was going to go through something like this and not document it, did you?), cell phone charger, and my tablet. I have my tablet because I'm assuming they have WiFi - I'm going to be a bit disappointed if they don't. Gas stations have WiFi, why wouldn't a medical office like this? How am I supposed to get by without Facebook, Twitter and YouTube? This isn't the Dark Ages, for crying out loud.
I mention my pajamas. This is getting into "too much information" territory, but I usually don't sleep fully clothed. I'm not naked but I'm not too far from it (go ahead and feel free to savor that mental image). I don't think I can get away with that for this test, lest I lose what tiny piece of modesty I have left, so I'm hoping the extra clothing doesn't throw me off too badly in terms of getting to sleep.
May 24, 2013
5:50 AM - I did not sleep well last night. Go figure, right?
I usually have to get up to use the restroom 2 or 3 times and last night was a 3-tripper. I've read that going to the bathroom at night for men is supposed to be some kind of a sign of prostate issues but for me I think it's natural seeing as how I drink a good bit of water before I go to bed. What can I say, I like a cool beverage in the evening and water's certainly better for me than soda, alcohol or anything else. That fluid's got to go somewhere and the urge to relieve myself is something I can only hold off for so long.
Enough about my nocturnal urination habits; I'm sure that's probably more than you ever wanted to know about my nightly pee-pee dances.
Aside from the bathroom trips, I was generally restless last night. My wife & I laid down around 11 PM, which is slightly later than usual for us, but we wound up talking and kidding with one another for almost an hour. I'd tickle her, she'd tickle me, I'd tickle her some more, she'd pitch a fit for me to stop and I never do because I'm her husband - it's my job to make her giggle uncomfortably until she snorts while laughing. We really are like a couple of children when we're together in moments like that. Consequently, I had a burst of energy come on around midnight and I don't think I truly got to sleep until near 12:30 AM only to be woken up with my first need to go to the bathroom around 1:45 AM.
My wife didn't sleep well either. When I woke up for good this morning I realized I was in bed by myself. I hate to think that I could cause her to suffer in any way.
Concern about the sleep study never entered my mind. In the realm of medical testing this isn't something that's all that involved, or so it seems to me. I'm (hopefully) going to get a good night's rest and come out of this thing knowing more about myself. I would be lying if I said I don't just want to be done with this, though. I'm not looking forward to it, not because it could reveal potential health issues but because of my own hang-ups that I've chronicled previously about stuff like this possibly being unnecessary or even unhelpful. It is what it is at this point; I'm going to get it done then tomorrow I'm going to Shoney's for breakfast.
9:58 AM - I received an email from a real good buddy of mine (who has had a sleep study) wherein he reminds me to bring cash with me tonight because if I pay extra the nurses will snuggle up next to me so I can sleep. I'm resisting the urge to make a joke and remind him that his wife happens to be a nurse at Lexington Medical Center...
I have had my normal cup of coffee this morning (Millstone's Hazelnut Cream) which I take with my breakfast each day, but I am feeling the urge to brew a pot here at my office or otherwise go get myself a Monster Import. I started drinking those things a while back and the Import has become my favorite; something about the flavor, odd as it is, and the uniqueness of the can draws me to it. I have no pep right now and I'm wondering why I bothered to come into work today at all seeing as how it's the Friday before a 3-day weekend (Memorial Day - thank you to all the veterans out there, by the way).
I'm not supposed to have any beverages with caffeine after noon today, per instructions in the information packet that was mailed to me, so if I'm going to get my fix I need to get on with it. Funnily enough, the packet did not mention abstaining from alcohol, so I'm wondering if it would be bad form should a fifth of Southern Comfort somehow wind up in my bag.
2:11 PM - While on my lunch break I went to get some gas in my truck. After I'd swiped my debit card and put in my PIN, I went to pull the hose out of the holster and insert it into my tank. (Why does the second half of that sentence sound like innuendo?) I hadn't picked which grade of fuel I wanted yet. When I pulled the hose (bow-chicka-bow-wow) the slack accidentally slapped against the button to select "Ultimate". I think a lot of my truck but not enough to pay $3.41 a gallon willingly, which is why my bank statement is going to show a transaction for $0.00 since I had to put the nozzle away in order to select a different fuel grade.
I missed my window for partaking in a caffeinated beverage. That's the trouble of being at work during the day, people catch you and expect you to do something that resembles productivity. So instead of a Monster or coffee I had to settle for a Sprite to wash down my deli meat sandwich and Doritos. I don't dislike Sprite by any means, it's just that on a day like today I could use a little pick-me-up. That's kind of sad in a way because I'm acknowledging a dependence on a substance. I guess soda is better than crystal meth, although I'm sure there's a nutritionist out there somewhere who would tell you otherwise.
5:25 PM - I had thought of taking my overnight bag with me when I left for work this morning but I didn't because I wanted to see my wife & our dog again before I took off on my adventure into Dreamland. I think I gave Jill the impression that I wasn't too thrilled about what I am about to experience. I never have been good at hiding my emotions, especially not when I'm feeling anxious about a given situation - I guess that hasn't changed.
6:30 PM - Moe's Southwest Grill is one of my favorite places to eat because they make burritos that are the size of small children and their guacamole is quite awesome. For these reasons, I decided to stop by a Moe's for supper since I was already going to be passing it on my way into Lexington. I had my usual Homewrecker burrito with steak, chips, and guacamole but the real star of this meal was the beverage. Coca-Cola's Freestyle machines have started to pop up in various locations but Moe's has always had them. (If you've never seen one, the Freestyle is a soda fountain that allows you to mix various flavors with the base syrup of a wide variety of Coca-Cola products.) I'll admit to having kept to the well-traveled roads when it comes to things I've tried from the Freestyle fountain but this evening I branched out and tried a cherry Sprite. I used to love cherry 7-Up but that's become nearly impossible to find and the version that's in stores now, to me, doesn't really taste like what I had grown to love as a kid. The cherry Sprite was very close to the cherry 7-Up that I remember; I probably could've drank about a gallon of it but I intentionally limited myself to one cup seeing as how I didn't want to overload my bladder for fear of having to get up multiple times during my sleep study.
7:45 PM - I've checked in to Lexington Sleep Solutions and I've been shown to my room, which is actually the second room I was put into. Apparently the technician who checked me in isn't the technician who'll be overseeing my study; my actual tech showed me to my actual room, which is the same as the other room except this one has a window. It's a decent amount of space, kind of like a low-end hotel room only with a way nicer bathroom. The shower is especially spacious but it is so because of care being taken to accommodate folks in wheelchairs or who may be otherwise handicapped. There's a TV, WiFi, a recliner, the bed (a full-sze; I guess my request for a king went on deaf ears) and a few other basic pieces of furniture, one of which is similar to a dresser with shelves that's holding a battery of equipment. A surveillance camera is situated just above the TV (so that you have to second guess yourself every time you go to pick your nose or adjust your naughty parts) and an intercom is on the dresser.
The first tech I encountered offered me a bottle of water, Sprite or ginger ale. Here I am trying to strangle my bladder and they're trying to fill it up. I accept the water, only because I know I'm going to get thirsty at some point.
My technician, whose name is John, brings me some paperwork to fill out while I watch a video about sleep apnea, sleep studies, and treatment options for people with sleep apnea. I gather that the people in the video are sufferers of sleep apnea. The main participant in the video has a particularly sad sack story behind his issues - clearly he wasn't hired for this gig because of his acting chops. I watch the video then promptly turn the TV to the NHL playoffs.
8:30 PM - John fits me with a full-face CPAP mask as he feels this will serve me best since I have allergies and deal with nasal congestion quite often. (He tells me we're doing this now so that I won't have to worry about being woken up for a lengthy period of time during the night when they'll have me wear it while I sleep.) Most CPAP masks are intended to force air through the nose and into a person's airway thereby keeping it open and preventing the closure or restriction that leads to snoring and other problems. Hard to do that when there's a wall of snot in the way, hence why I'll need one that affords the opportunity to breathe through the mouth.
After fitting me for the mask, John says that I can kick back in bed and try to get acclimated to wearing it. I have a feeling that this is actually part of the sleep study, as in they want to see if I pass out just from lying down while wearing the mask. No dice - I'm awake and anxious. John comes back in about 15-20 minutes later to take the mask off before instructing me to be ready to get wired up around 9:45.
I bring up to John the fact that I'm a side-sleeper, which is something that's pointed out in the video as being a potential remedy to sleep apnea. He's quick to state that for the purposes of the sleep study, they need me to sleep on my back. Wrong thing to say, Johnny - you just made someone prone to suffering paranoia very paranoid. Why force someone out of their nightly habit for the sake of this test? How can this be a valid study if nothing about it is similar to what I actually do when I'm sleeping? That defies the concept of the scientific method, thereby making me question why I'm doing this.
I don't want to be here.
I don't think this is going to help me.
9:40 PM - True to his word, John shows up with the rigging that will soon be all over my body. John's a pretty tall guy, in good shape, muscular but not beefy which goes along with what he tells me about having been in the military when he was younger. He has a shaved head and a goatee, making him something of a skinny Stone Cold Steve Austin.
He's telling me about the various wires that are being applied to my body as he's configuring them. There are at least 10 leads on my scalp, which he applied with a dollop of some kind of grease - it has the consistency of petroleum jelly, only slightly more viscous. I imagine this is for the sake of connectivity as these sensors are to pick up my brainwaves. I have to say John wasn't exactly gentle in putting these things on my head. I'm not sure if he was trying to push them through what hair I have left up there or if I said something to piss him off. Regardless, the application process was rather painful.
In addition to the wires on my head, I have several on my chest, an oxygen sensor on the middle finger of my left hand, and one sensor on each of my calves. These are to monitor my leg movements in order to see if I have a condition like restless leg syndrome. There are two sets of apparatus going just inside my nostrils, one of which has something hanging off of it that's near my mouth. On top of all this, I also have a microphone taped to my throat so that my snoring can be heard loud and clear.
All totaled, it takes about 20-25 minutes to get everything connected. I go to the bathroom with a lanyard around my neck to hold the panel in which all the leads on my head are plugged into. I send my wife a joking text message saying that I look like a suicide bomber because of all the wires.
10:15 PM - I'm in bed. The TV is still on (SyFy, some episode of Merlin is on - a show I do not watch but this is the channel it's left on seeing as how I was watching WWE Smackdown prior to this) as John set it on the sleep timer for me before he left the room. This is the same thing Jill & I usually do every night, so at least this is a consistent with what I'd be doing if I were at home.
11 PM - The TV turns off. I am still awake. I can hear things in and around the building - other patients snoring, the staff talking, cars driving by. It's all distracting but none of it is as distracting as my own thoughts. Why can't I go to sleep? Because I'm not comfortable. Why am I not comfortable? Because I'm tied to a bed by a bunch of wires and I can't get into my normal position.
I try getting onto my side and it's just as uncomfortable. The wires are pushing into my face and I'm getting warm from the fact that I'm wearing way more clothing than I typically would be while sleeping.
May 25, 2013
12:21 AM - I still haven't gone to sleep. I've only been in bed for 2 hours but the urge to urinate has struck me. I have to call John, who's on the other end of the intercom, to come unhook me before I can get out of bed. It's a bit demoralizing to have to have assistance to go to the bathroom but in this scenario it's unavoidable. I guess whoever develops the technology for these sleep studies hasn't had the wherewithal to incorporate WiFi or Bluetooth.
There's no clock in this room so the only way I know what time it is is by looking at my wristwatch on my way back from the bathroom. I can't wait for this to be over so I can go home.
I roll over onto my right side once I'm back in the bed (not an easy thing to do, what with all the wires) in an attempt to get comfortable and apparently I went to sleep deeply enough that John was able to hear me snoring. "You definitely snore...Loudly.", he says to me as he comes into the room to put the CPAP mask on me. Forgive my crassness here, but his bedside manner is the drizzling shits. He removes the apparatus around my nose in order to put the mask on me. I don't know if it's the fact that my head is now covered with wires or what but the mask is very uncomfortable, specifically the straps, compared to how it felt when I put it on earlier.
I wish I knew what time it was, at least then I'd be able to know how much longer I have to be here.
I don't think I got back to sleep the rest of the night, not fully anyway. Between the discomfort of the mask, the noise of the machine, and my anxiety about the whole thing I more or less laid there with my eyes closed but I was not asleep.
5:50 AM - I have to go to the bathroom again. I call John (it was hard to talk at first as my mouth was dry as a bone) and he says for me to hold tight for a few minutes because he's about to begin disconnecting another patient and it's almost time to get me up anyway. To that all I can say is thank God because I'm beyond ready to be out of this place.
John disconnects all the leads from my body and brings in my breakfast - a fruit cup, a serving of peach yogurt, and a blueberry muffin. No beverage; some coffee or a Coke would've been great as my mouth is dry from having air pumped into it by way of the CPAP. I guess it's a good thing I didn't drink all my water from the night before else I'd have had to choke down this meal of sadness with my own spit.
John tells me that I have some form of obstructive sleep apnea and that the doctors will probably recommend I get on a CPAP machine. Does anyone come to this place and not get told you need a machine? Isn't that how this works? One doctor passes a patient on to another doctor so that they both can then go to the country club in their BMWs to enjoy an evening in the luxury of high society? I can't help but be pessimistic, given what I've just been through.
After I've finished my breakfast and filled out a patient survey ("How would you rate the sleep you had during your study?" You don't want me to answer that truthfully.), I go to take a shower. Looking in the mirror, I see a dob of the axle grease John put onto my forehead. The finger that had the O2 sensor on it feels like there's a needle sticking into it but there's nothing there. Pulling off my shirt, I realize John left the pads on my chest to which the leads had been connected. I notice a burning sensation on my neck near my throat and it's tender to the touch. Apparently when John pulled off the tape that had been holding the microphone in place he pulled off a good chunk of skin with it. Did I mention his bedside manner was the drizzling shits?
6:45 AM - I shower, get dressed, pack up my stuff and head for the door. I assume I'll be getting a bill for whatever my insurance doesn't cover for this procedure as there wasn't anything else asked of my before I left.
7:35 AM - Shoney's breakfast buffet is amazing and it is exactly what I needed this morning. I engorge myself on two plates of scrambled eggs, liver pudding, sausage, steak, and grits then head home.
Conclusion
I'm not sure what kind of useful information is going to be gleaned from this test, however I will say that I question its validity. You can't tell me that forcing someone into an unusual (not to mention uncomfortable) set of circumstances when you're trying to measure their typical behaviors constitutes a valid test. This was already my impression of the test before I had it done and having had it didn't change anything about my opinion.
I know I can be a fairly cynical person, and I usually am such because of the fact that it affords me the opportunity to be humorous in one way or another (the armchair psychologist in me says that's probably a defense mechanism of some sort), but quite frankly this was a horrible ordeal. The room became like a sensory deprivation chamber as the night went on; I never realized how much not having something as simple as a clock nearby would mess with my ability to perceive what's going on around me. I would not recommend anyone be put through this unless it is deemed absolutely necessary and even then I would caution you against it as I could see how someone like myself might suffer an anxiety or panic attack as a result of being subjected to this. If you do go through with a sleep study, I hope you have a technician who's more kind in handling their patients than mine was.
The results of my test should be ready in 4-7 days, depending on how long it takes the doctors to interpret all of it. After that, the results will be sent to my physician as I'm supposed to go back to her anyway for a follow-up appointment regarding my blood work. We'll see how it goes.
May 22, 2013
8:47 PM - I'm having my sleep study done at Lexington Sleep Solutions, which is part of the Lexington Medical Center in Lexington, SC. (With this blog entry, I think I'll meet my lifetime quota for usage of the word "Lexington".) They sent me a patient information packet and questionnaire in the mail a week or so ago and I'm just now getting around to filling it all out. It's fairly basic stuff - medical history, family data, next of kin, insurance providers, that sort of thing. One question caught my attention as being too absurd not to single out.
"Do you suffer from memory loss issues?" with the possible answers being "Yes", "No", and "I Don't Know".
This might just be me, but wouldn't a response of "I Don't Know" to that question equate with a "Yes"? I believe it would, although it might also indicate some other form of psychosis.
May 23, 2013
7:56 PM - Packing my bag, it's like I'm 8 years old and getting ready for a sleep over except I'm not going to stay with a friend, I'm going to sleep in a strange room on a bed that God only knows who has occupied previously. I have a change of clothes, pajamas, toiletries, my camera (You didn't think I was going to go through something like this and not document it, did you?), cell phone charger, and my tablet. I have my tablet because I'm assuming they have WiFi - I'm going to be a bit disappointed if they don't. Gas stations have WiFi, why wouldn't a medical office like this? How am I supposed to get by without Facebook, Twitter and YouTube? This isn't the Dark Ages, for crying out loud.
I mention my pajamas. This is getting into "too much information" territory, but I usually don't sleep fully clothed. I'm not naked but I'm not too far from it (go ahead and feel free to savor that mental image). I don't think I can get away with that for this test, lest I lose what tiny piece of modesty I have left, so I'm hoping the extra clothing doesn't throw me off too badly in terms of getting to sleep.
May 24, 2013
5:50 AM - I did not sleep well last night. Go figure, right?
I usually have to get up to use the restroom 2 or 3 times and last night was a 3-tripper. I've read that going to the bathroom at night for men is supposed to be some kind of a sign of prostate issues but for me I think it's natural seeing as how I drink a good bit of water before I go to bed. What can I say, I like a cool beverage in the evening and water's certainly better for me than soda, alcohol or anything else. That fluid's got to go somewhere and the urge to relieve myself is something I can only hold off for so long.
Enough about my nocturnal urination habits; I'm sure that's probably more than you ever wanted to know about my nightly pee-pee dances.
Aside from the bathroom trips, I was generally restless last night. My wife & I laid down around 11 PM, which is slightly later than usual for us, but we wound up talking and kidding with one another for almost an hour. I'd tickle her, she'd tickle me, I'd tickle her some more, she'd pitch a fit for me to stop and I never do because I'm her husband - it's my job to make her giggle uncomfortably until she snorts while laughing. We really are like a couple of children when we're together in moments like that. Consequently, I had a burst of energy come on around midnight and I don't think I truly got to sleep until near 12:30 AM only to be woken up with my first need to go to the bathroom around 1:45 AM.
My wife didn't sleep well either. When I woke up for good this morning I realized I was in bed by myself. I hate to think that I could cause her to suffer in any way.
Concern about the sleep study never entered my mind. In the realm of medical testing this isn't something that's all that involved, or so it seems to me. I'm (hopefully) going to get a good night's rest and come out of this thing knowing more about myself. I would be lying if I said I don't just want to be done with this, though. I'm not looking forward to it, not because it could reveal potential health issues but because of my own hang-ups that I've chronicled previously about stuff like this possibly being unnecessary or even unhelpful. It is what it is at this point; I'm going to get it done then tomorrow I'm going to Shoney's for breakfast.
9:58 AM - I received an email from a real good buddy of mine (who has had a sleep study) wherein he reminds me to bring cash with me tonight because if I pay extra the nurses will snuggle up next to me so I can sleep. I'm resisting the urge to make a joke and remind him that his wife happens to be a nurse at Lexington Medical Center...
I have had my normal cup of coffee this morning (Millstone's Hazelnut Cream) which I take with my breakfast each day, but I am feeling the urge to brew a pot here at my office or otherwise go get myself a Monster Import. I started drinking those things a while back and the Import has become my favorite; something about the flavor, odd as it is, and the uniqueness of the can draws me to it. I have no pep right now and I'm wondering why I bothered to come into work today at all seeing as how it's the Friday before a 3-day weekend (Memorial Day - thank you to all the veterans out there, by the way).
I'm not supposed to have any beverages with caffeine after noon today, per instructions in the information packet that was mailed to me, so if I'm going to get my fix I need to get on with it. Funnily enough, the packet did not mention abstaining from alcohol, so I'm wondering if it would be bad form should a fifth of Southern Comfort somehow wind up in my bag.
2:11 PM - While on my lunch break I went to get some gas in my truck. After I'd swiped my debit card and put in my PIN, I went to pull the hose out of the holster and insert it into my tank. (Why does the second half of that sentence sound like innuendo?) I hadn't picked which grade of fuel I wanted yet. When I pulled the hose (bow-chicka-bow-wow) the slack accidentally slapped against the button to select "Ultimate". I think a lot of my truck but not enough to pay $3.41 a gallon willingly, which is why my bank statement is going to show a transaction for $0.00 since I had to put the nozzle away in order to select a different fuel grade.
I missed my window for partaking in a caffeinated beverage. That's the trouble of being at work during the day, people catch you and expect you to do something that resembles productivity. So instead of a Monster or coffee I had to settle for a Sprite to wash down my deli meat sandwich and Doritos. I don't dislike Sprite by any means, it's just that on a day like today I could use a little pick-me-up. That's kind of sad in a way because I'm acknowledging a dependence on a substance. I guess soda is better than crystal meth, although I'm sure there's a nutritionist out there somewhere who would tell you otherwise.
5:25 PM - I had thought of taking my overnight bag with me when I left for work this morning but I didn't because I wanted to see my wife & our dog again before I took off on my adventure into Dreamland. I think I gave Jill the impression that I wasn't too thrilled about what I am about to experience. I never have been good at hiding my emotions, especially not when I'm feeling anxious about a given situation - I guess that hasn't changed.
6:30 PM - Moe's Southwest Grill is one of my favorite places to eat because they make burritos that are the size of small children and their guacamole is quite awesome. For these reasons, I decided to stop by a Moe's for supper since I was already going to be passing it on my way into Lexington. I had my usual Homewrecker burrito with steak, chips, and guacamole but the real star of this meal was the beverage. Coca-Cola's Freestyle machines have started to pop up in various locations but Moe's has always had them. (If you've never seen one, the Freestyle is a soda fountain that allows you to mix various flavors with the base syrup of a wide variety of Coca-Cola products.) I'll admit to having kept to the well-traveled roads when it comes to things I've tried from the Freestyle fountain but this evening I branched out and tried a cherry Sprite. I used to love cherry 7-Up but that's become nearly impossible to find and the version that's in stores now, to me, doesn't really taste like what I had grown to love as a kid. The cherry Sprite was very close to the cherry 7-Up that I remember; I probably could've drank about a gallon of it but I intentionally limited myself to one cup seeing as how I didn't want to overload my bladder for fear of having to get up multiple times during my sleep study.
7:45 PM - I've checked in to Lexington Sleep Solutions and I've been shown to my room, which is actually the second room I was put into. Apparently the technician who checked me in isn't the technician who'll be overseeing my study; my actual tech showed me to my actual room, which is the same as the other room except this one has a window. It's a decent amount of space, kind of like a low-end hotel room only with a way nicer bathroom. The shower is especially spacious but it is so because of care being taken to accommodate folks in wheelchairs or who may be otherwise handicapped. There's a TV, WiFi, a recliner, the bed (a full-sze; I guess my request for a king went on deaf ears) and a few other basic pieces of furniture, one of which is similar to a dresser with shelves that's holding a battery of equipment. A surveillance camera is situated just above the TV (so that you have to second guess yourself every time you go to pick your nose or adjust your naughty parts) and an intercom is on the dresser.
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| My "home away from home" for the evening |
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| For some reason, the Metallica lyric "...tied to machines that make me be..." comes to mind |
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| The shower, probably the best part of the whole room in terms of features |
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| The TV and surveillance equipment in my room |
The first tech I encountered offered me a bottle of water, Sprite or ginger ale. Here I am trying to strangle my bladder and they're trying to fill it up. I accept the water, only because I know I'm going to get thirsty at some point.
My technician, whose name is John, brings me some paperwork to fill out while I watch a video about sleep apnea, sleep studies, and treatment options for people with sleep apnea. I gather that the people in the video are sufferers of sleep apnea. The main participant in the video has a particularly sad sack story behind his issues - clearly he wasn't hired for this gig because of his acting chops. I watch the video then promptly turn the TV to the NHL playoffs.
8:30 PM - John fits me with a full-face CPAP mask as he feels this will serve me best since I have allergies and deal with nasal congestion quite often. (He tells me we're doing this now so that I won't have to worry about being woken up for a lengthy period of time during the night when they'll have me wear it while I sleep.) Most CPAP masks are intended to force air through the nose and into a person's airway thereby keeping it open and preventing the closure or restriction that leads to snoring and other problems. Hard to do that when there's a wall of snot in the way, hence why I'll need one that affords the opportunity to breathe through the mouth.
After fitting me for the mask, John says that I can kick back in bed and try to get acclimated to wearing it. I have a feeling that this is actually part of the sleep study, as in they want to see if I pass out just from lying down while wearing the mask. No dice - I'm awake and anxious. John comes back in about 15-20 minutes later to take the mask off before instructing me to be ready to get wired up around 9:45.
I bring up to John the fact that I'm a side-sleeper, which is something that's pointed out in the video as being a potential remedy to sleep apnea. He's quick to state that for the purposes of the sleep study, they need me to sleep on my back. Wrong thing to say, Johnny - you just made someone prone to suffering paranoia very paranoid. Why force someone out of their nightly habit for the sake of this test? How can this be a valid study if nothing about it is similar to what I actually do when I'm sleeping? That defies the concept of the scientific method, thereby making me question why I'm doing this.
I don't want to be here.
I don't think this is going to help me.
9:40 PM - True to his word, John shows up with the rigging that will soon be all over my body. John's a pretty tall guy, in good shape, muscular but not beefy which goes along with what he tells me about having been in the military when he was younger. He has a shaved head and a goatee, making him something of a skinny Stone Cold Steve Austin.
He's telling me about the various wires that are being applied to my body as he's configuring them. There are at least 10 leads on my scalp, which he applied with a dollop of some kind of grease - it has the consistency of petroleum jelly, only slightly more viscous. I imagine this is for the sake of connectivity as these sensors are to pick up my brainwaves. I have to say John wasn't exactly gentle in putting these things on my head. I'm not sure if he was trying to push them through what hair I have left up there or if I said something to piss him off. Regardless, the application process was rather painful.
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| If it looks like I'm thrilled, it's because I am... |
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| The leads attached to my legs - these are to check for signs of restless leg syndrome |
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| The panel of wires that would collect brainwave data while I slept |
11 PM - The TV turns off. I am still awake. I can hear things in and around the building - other patients snoring, the staff talking, cars driving by. It's all distracting but none of it is as distracting as my own thoughts. Why can't I go to sleep? Because I'm not comfortable. Why am I not comfortable? Because I'm tied to a bed by a bunch of wires and I can't get into my normal position.
I try getting onto my side and it's just as uncomfortable. The wires are pushing into my face and I'm getting warm from the fact that I'm wearing way more clothing than I typically would be while sleeping.
May 25, 2013
12:21 AM - I still haven't gone to sleep. I've only been in bed for 2 hours but the urge to urinate has struck me. I have to call John, who's on the other end of the intercom, to come unhook me before I can get out of bed. It's a bit demoralizing to have to have assistance to go to the bathroom but in this scenario it's unavoidable. I guess whoever develops the technology for these sleep studies hasn't had the wherewithal to incorporate WiFi or Bluetooth.
There's no clock in this room so the only way I know what time it is is by looking at my wristwatch on my way back from the bathroom. I can't wait for this to be over so I can go home.
I roll over onto my right side once I'm back in the bed (not an easy thing to do, what with all the wires) in an attempt to get comfortable and apparently I went to sleep deeply enough that John was able to hear me snoring. "You definitely snore...Loudly.", he says to me as he comes into the room to put the CPAP mask on me. Forgive my crassness here, but his bedside manner is the drizzling shits. He removes the apparatus around my nose in order to put the mask on me. I don't know if it's the fact that my head is now covered with wires or what but the mask is very uncomfortable, specifically the straps, compared to how it felt when I put it on earlier.
I wish I knew what time it was, at least then I'd be able to know how much longer I have to be here.
I don't think I got back to sleep the rest of the night, not fully anyway. Between the discomfort of the mask, the noise of the machine, and my anxiety about the whole thing I more or less laid there with my eyes closed but I was not asleep.
5:50 AM - I have to go to the bathroom again. I call John (it was hard to talk at first as my mouth was dry as a bone) and he says for me to hold tight for a few minutes because he's about to begin disconnecting another patient and it's almost time to get me up anyway. To that all I can say is thank God because I'm beyond ready to be out of this place.
John disconnects all the leads from my body and brings in my breakfast - a fruit cup, a serving of peach yogurt, and a blueberry muffin. No beverage; some coffee or a Coke would've been great as my mouth is dry from having air pumped into it by way of the CPAP. I guess it's a good thing I didn't drink all my water from the night before else I'd have had to choke down this meal of sadness with my own spit.
 |
| My breakfast - I had the option of not getting any breakfast but I knew I'd want something first thing in the morning |
After I've finished my breakfast and filled out a patient survey ("How would you rate the sleep you had during your study?" You don't want me to answer that truthfully.), I go to take a shower. Looking in the mirror, I see a dob of the axle grease John put onto my forehead. The finger that had the O2 sensor on it feels like there's a needle sticking into it but there's nothing there. Pulling off my shirt, I realize John left the pads on my chest to which the leads had been connected. I notice a burning sensation on my neck near my throat and it's tender to the touch. Apparently when John pulled off the tape that had been holding the microphone in place he pulled off a good chunk of skin with it. Did I mention his bedside manner was the drizzling shits?
 |
| The wounds left on my throat thanks to John yanking off a piece of tape that had been holding a microphone in place |
7:35 AM - Shoney's breakfast buffet is amazing and it is exactly what I needed this morning. I engorge myself on two plates of scrambled eggs, liver pudding, sausage, steak, and grits then head home.
Conclusion
I'm not sure what kind of useful information is going to be gleaned from this test, however I will say that I question its validity. You can't tell me that forcing someone into an unusual (not to mention uncomfortable) set of circumstances when you're trying to measure their typical behaviors constitutes a valid test. This was already my impression of the test before I had it done and having had it didn't change anything about my opinion.
I know I can be a fairly cynical person, and I usually am such because of the fact that it affords me the opportunity to be humorous in one way or another (the armchair psychologist in me says that's probably a defense mechanism of some sort), but quite frankly this was a horrible ordeal. The room became like a sensory deprivation chamber as the night went on; I never realized how much not having something as simple as a clock nearby would mess with my ability to perceive what's going on around me. I would not recommend anyone be put through this unless it is deemed absolutely necessary and even then I would caution you against it as I could see how someone like myself might suffer an anxiety or panic attack as a result of being subjected to this. If you do go through with a sleep study, I hope you have a technician who's more kind in handling their patients than mine was.
The results of my test should be ready in 4-7 days, depending on how long it takes the doctors to interpret all of it. After that, the results will be sent to my physician as I'm supposed to go back to her anyway for a follow-up appointment regarding my blood work. We'll see how it goes.
Tuesday, May 21, 2013
You May Feel a Slight Pinch...
A couple of entries ago, wherein I detailed some psychological and physical issues I've been dealing with here lately, I brought up the fact that I had agreed to see a doctor at the behest of my wife. I am here to say that I didn't back out of the arrangement and that I did, in fact, make a visit to a physician.
But am I all that better off for having done so? That remains to be seen.
This particular practitioner is one that my wife has been going to for quite some time, which is why I went with that office as opposed to somewhere else. Doctors are one of those sort of things in life where you seldom hear of a person simply thumbing through the phone book and saying "Okay, this guy doesn't seem like too much of a quack, I'll take him..." They usually go to a given clinic because of familial ties or some other bond that indicates having received a certain quality of service that makes returning worthwhile. The relationship that exists between a doctor and their client is one born out of trust, obviously, or so I would hope.
One of the issues I have with doctors is a perception of mine that practicing medicine nowadays isn't so much about providing care as it is about maintaining business and the high standard of living afforded by being a member of the monetarily elite in this country. This state of mind actually comes from the days of my childhood when I was regularly seeing a dentist (yes, you can infer from that statement that I don't go regularly anymore). The dentist I'd been seeing diagnosed me as having an abnormality with my molars which could be corrected through the application of a set of plastic caps. I don't remember a whole lot about the procedure itself. I went along with it, but what else was I supposed to do? I was a child and this guy had convinced my parents that it was necessary. Even at my young age I questioned the notion of it being something I truly needed, especially when I was told of how the caps could come off rather easily. What happens when they come off? Will I have to have this done regularly? If it's not a permanent fix, why bother? Is this actually a medical condition worth treating or did my Mom get made as a mark who's willing to fork over her money for the sake of her baby boy?
In my own mind, I ultimately settled on the latter. I went back to that dentist a few more times for cleanings but I drew the line when he began pushing for me to wear braces. That wasn't a process I was willing to endure. I told my Mom as much and she didn't go against my decision. Consequently, I never went back to that dentist. I imagine those caps he put on my teeth lasted a couple months seeing as how my Big League Chew addiction took precedence over them. The concept of patient care existing as a money-maker more so than a matter of genuine concern for a person's well-being has been with me ever since.
I've never been one to immediately seek medical assistance when I notice something going on with my body. For example, when I was a senior in high school I began feeling pain in my left foot that was bad enough to where I couldn't get around all that well. I kept walking on it for about a week because I assumed I'd somehow twisted my ankle, which I've always been somewhat prone to doing ever since my days as a stand-out local recreational league basketball player (it helped that I was one of the biggest 9 year-olds in the league). The pain became so bad that I finally succumb to it and got an x-ray which revealed I had a hairline fracture in one of the bones of my foot. I wore a cast on that leg for around 6 weeks - trust me when I say that you should consider yourself fortunate if you've never had to take showers with a trash bag taped around your knee.
By contrast to my state of mind, it seems like people these days will rush off to a doctor for just about any given reason. Can't kick that stubborn cough? Lets pay a visit to the ENT. Noticed an odd pimple on your forehead? Time to see the dermatologist. Having a bad day? No problem, get worked in and have a prescription for some Xanax and a muscle relaxer. My point is to say that I believe the human body has the capacity to service itself, to an extent, if we will allow it. Obviously there are some things that don't just get better by way of our immune systems, broken bones being one of them, and those are perfectly valid situations where a person should seek out medical aid. I don't think we should be going to the doctor over every sniffle, stubbed toe, and scraped elbow is what I'm getting at.
I also realize that I'm unfairly demonizing doctors, dentists, nurses, and everyone in between with these comments. I don't mean to say that you're an evil person if your occupation puts you into one of those categories because I know plenty of folks who wear scrubs to the office every day. Rather, I mean to say that you work for a business which is no different than any other in that the ultimate goal is to make money, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do, however, contend that some doctors see dollar signs when they look into a crowded waiting room instead of opportunities to legitimately improve lives. (I'd like to think that when someone signs up to go to medical school they do so with the intention of taking that knowledge and using it to help people instead of simply for the paycheck that comes with having earned the right to put "MD" at the end of your name.) The issue, for me, is that we're not talking about customers who are buying a car and are being told the benefits of upgrading to a model with a better package than the vehicle they'd been interested in. We're talking about people, their bodies, and ultimately the quality of their existence. Doctors have to realize the power of their influence; what they do with that realization in either using it to help or to harm is the larger issue.
There's that darn soap box again, always getting underneath me when I'm trying to write these blog entries...
All that having been said, Jill accompanied me for my visit. I kidded with her that her only reasons for going with me were to make sure I actually went and to get a free lunch out of it as we'd be passing by several of our favorite haunts during the drive to & from the office. The waiting room was empty when we arrived which was comforting to me; the last thing I wanted to do was go see a doctor when I'm not sick and wind up coming home with a bug received by having been in the proximity of someone who's not well. I didn't have to fill out any paperwork as I'd given them all of my insurance and personal information in advance. Within a few minutes I - well, we were called to the back and my examination began.
I wasn't surprised to find out that things haven't changed all that much when it comes to normal procedure for a doctor's visit in the years since I'd been seen. I was asked to stand on a scale so that the nurse could get my height and weight, neither of which is necessarily an easy process seeing as how the scales don't usually have the capacity to account for people my size. I'm a big guy but I'm not delusional because I know I've eaten way more than my share of cheeseburgers and chicken wings. In other words, I know I'm fat and I don't need a scale to remind me of this. When I was younger I got a tiny bit of amusement from watching the slide on the scale max out once I stepped on it, and that nor the results of an attempt to weigh me haven't changed. It's not as if it would be an accurate measurement anyway seeing as how I was wearing shoes, fully clothed and carrying my keys, wallet and cell phone. I am happy to report, though, that I'm apparently 6'3.5" - or so I am according to the nurse who was taking my vitals.
Next we went into the examination room, which of course is where all the magic happens. I sat down with the nurse and she began plugging in the data she'd collected on me thus far into an application on a PC in the exam room. I was intrigued by the software, naturally, and when she walked out of the room for a moment I had to fight an urge to have a look at the system for myself. This is another reason why it's good that my wife was with me; I have the same impulses but because she's there I have to consider the repercussions of embarrassing the both of us by way of my actions instead of just myself.
The nurse took my blood pressure and my heart rate, neither of which were all that superlative but this wasn't a surprise. "Do you have high blood pressure?", the nurse asked. The best response I could give was something of a shrug. Again, I'm fat, out of shape and I stress myself out over everything; it would've been a pleasant surprise if my BP had wound up being within a normal range but I knew that that wasn't going to happen.
Having done her job, the nurse left in order to make way for the headliner of the day - my new best friend, the doctor who'd be presiding over my care from this point forward. She and I talked about my concerns and issues I've been having, and she was very receptive in listening to me which I found to be right in line with everything Jill had told me about her. Based on our conversation, the doctor recommended that I have a sleep study done. That caught me off guard, to be totally honest with you. I knew I was in for some poking and prodding when I agreed to go down this path but I didn't think the process would go quite as quickly as it was.
The sleep study wasn't the only surprise Doc had for me that day. I had it in mind when I made this appointment that I may have to have blood drawn as that's a surefire way to know everything about what's going on inside a person, however nothing was said to me in advance about it. I assumed I was in the clear because I thought a patient was required to fast for 12 or more hours prior to having blood drawn so that a "clean" sample can be taken. Imagine my amazement when Doc sent the nurse back in to shove a needle in my arm! Good thing I hadn't had lunch yet, I guess, although in hindsight having a stack of pancakes with a half pound of bacon that morning might not have been such a good idea (I kid, I would never eat a half pound of bacon - it was fatback). To the credit of the nurse, she was very thorough in locating a vein and when she jabbed me I didn't feel much of anything. It became more noticeable after about the second vial of blood had been drawn, though, as the notion of a needle hanging out of my arm started to set into my mind. After she was done draining me, the nurse put a little wad of cotton on the injection site along with a piece of tape to hold it in place - not the gently removable kind of tape, this was the kind that takes every bit of hair with it when you inevitably yank it off.
At that point, there wasn't much left to do but pay the piper. Having been a member of the public sector for going on 6 years now, I can tell you that no one works these jobs for the fortune although the benefits package is quite nice. That said, I guess it's about time I got to use this medical insurance I've been paying for for so long now without ever really using it. Thanks to my coverage, a bill that would've cost me in excess of $100 wound up being around $20. I guess that's not too bad, all things considered, even though I left the office with less blood and money than I came in with.
I haven't returned to see Doc again as I'm waiting to have my sleep study completed before doing so, that way I can conserve some of my sick leave. Speaking of the sleep study, I'll be going in for it this Friday night. I'm a little concerned about it because I've done some research pertaining to what this type of procedure involves and quite frankly I don't know how comfortable I'm going to be with the wiring harness they put on you in order to record data while you're in Dreamland. Seriously, do a Google Images search for "sleep study" and look at the jumble of wires you have to wear - it's like they hand you a spool of random cables and Christmas lights then roll you down a hill, for crying out loud. I'm a side-sleeper, and not a particularly mobile one, so I imagine I'm going to wake up with a lot of interesting lines on my face from having laid on the wires all night.
I truly hope this test is useful, as in the people in charge of my care will be able to look at the results and tell me something other than "You snored while you were asleep...Don't do that.", because my wife does that for me right now. Likewise, I hope this whole process is beneficial in the sort of way that I'm able to learn about aspects of my life I can change to improve my health as that's what this is all about.
But am I all that better off for having done so? That remains to be seen.
This particular practitioner is one that my wife has been going to for quite some time, which is why I went with that office as opposed to somewhere else. Doctors are one of those sort of things in life where you seldom hear of a person simply thumbing through the phone book and saying "Okay, this guy doesn't seem like too much of a quack, I'll take him..." They usually go to a given clinic because of familial ties or some other bond that indicates having received a certain quality of service that makes returning worthwhile. The relationship that exists between a doctor and their client is one born out of trust, obviously, or so I would hope.
One of the issues I have with doctors is a perception of mine that practicing medicine nowadays isn't so much about providing care as it is about maintaining business and the high standard of living afforded by being a member of the monetarily elite in this country. This state of mind actually comes from the days of my childhood when I was regularly seeing a dentist (yes, you can infer from that statement that I don't go regularly anymore). The dentist I'd been seeing diagnosed me as having an abnormality with my molars which could be corrected through the application of a set of plastic caps. I don't remember a whole lot about the procedure itself. I went along with it, but what else was I supposed to do? I was a child and this guy had convinced my parents that it was necessary. Even at my young age I questioned the notion of it being something I truly needed, especially when I was told of how the caps could come off rather easily. What happens when they come off? Will I have to have this done regularly? If it's not a permanent fix, why bother? Is this actually a medical condition worth treating or did my Mom get made as a mark who's willing to fork over her money for the sake of her baby boy?
In my own mind, I ultimately settled on the latter. I went back to that dentist a few more times for cleanings but I drew the line when he began pushing for me to wear braces. That wasn't a process I was willing to endure. I told my Mom as much and she didn't go against my decision. Consequently, I never went back to that dentist. I imagine those caps he put on my teeth lasted a couple months seeing as how my Big League Chew addiction took precedence over them. The concept of patient care existing as a money-maker more so than a matter of genuine concern for a person's well-being has been with me ever since.
I've never been one to immediately seek medical assistance when I notice something going on with my body. For example, when I was a senior in high school I began feeling pain in my left foot that was bad enough to where I couldn't get around all that well. I kept walking on it for about a week because I assumed I'd somehow twisted my ankle, which I've always been somewhat prone to doing ever since my days as a stand-out local recreational league basketball player (it helped that I was one of the biggest 9 year-olds in the league). The pain became so bad that I finally succumb to it and got an x-ray which revealed I had a hairline fracture in one of the bones of my foot. I wore a cast on that leg for around 6 weeks - trust me when I say that you should consider yourself fortunate if you've never had to take showers with a trash bag taped around your knee.
By contrast to my state of mind, it seems like people these days will rush off to a doctor for just about any given reason. Can't kick that stubborn cough? Lets pay a visit to the ENT. Noticed an odd pimple on your forehead? Time to see the dermatologist. Having a bad day? No problem, get worked in and have a prescription for some Xanax and a muscle relaxer. My point is to say that I believe the human body has the capacity to service itself, to an extent, if we will allow it. Obviously there are some things that don't just get better by way of our immune systems, broken bones being one of them, and those are perfectly valid situations where a person should seek out medical aid. I don't think we should be going to the doctor over every sniffle, stubbed toe, and scraped elbow is what I'm getting at.
I also realize that I'm unfairly demonizing doctors, dentists, nurses, and everyone in between with these comments. I don't mean to say that you're an evil person if your occupation puts you into one of those categories because I know plenty of folks who wear scrubs to the office every day. Rather, I mean to say that you work for a business which is no different than any other in that the ultimate goal is to make money, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. I do, however, contend that some doctors see dollar signs when they look into a crowded waiting room instead of opportunities to legitimately improve lives. (I'd like to think that when someone signs up to go to medical school they do so with the intention of taking that knowledge and using it to help people instead of simply for the paycheck that comes with having earned the right to put "MD" at the end of your name.) The issue, for me, is that we're not talking about customers who are buying a car and are being told the benefits of upgrading to a model with a better package than the vehicle they'd been interested in. We're talking about people, their bodies, and ultimately the quality of their existence. Doctors have to realize the power of their influence; what they do with that realization in either using it to help or to harm is the larger issue.
There's that darn soap box again, always getting underneath me when I'm trying to write these blog entries...
All that having been said, Jill accompanied me for my visit. I kidded with her that her only reasons for going with me were to make sure I actually went and to get a free lunch out of it as we'd be passing by several of our favorite haunts during the drive to & from the office. The waiting room was empty when we arrived which was comforting to me; the last thing I wanted to do was go see a doctor when I'm not sick and wind up coming home with a bug received by having been in the proximity of someone who's not well. I didn't have to fill out any paperwork as I'd given them all of my insurance and personal information in advance. Within a few minutes I - well, we were called to the back and my examination began.
I wasn't surprised to find out that things haven't changed all that much when it comes to normal procedure for a doctor's visit in the years since I'd been seen. I was asked to stand on a scale so that the nurse could get my height and weight, neither of which is necessarily an easy process seeing as how the scales don't usually have the capacity to account for people my size. I'm a big guy but I'm not delusional because I know I've eaten way more than my share of cheeseburgers and chicken wings. In other words, I know I'm fat and I don't need a scale to remind me of this. When I was younger I got a tiny bit of amusement from watching the slide on the scale max out once I stepped on it, and that nor the results of an attempt to weigh me haven't changed. It's not as if it would be an accurate measurement anyway seeing as how I was wearing shoes, fully clothed and carrying my keys, wallet and cell phone. I am happy to report, though, that I'm apparently 6'3.5" - or so I am according to the nurse who was taking my vitals.
Next we went into the examination room, which of course is where all the magic happens. I sat down with the nurse and she began plugging in the data she'd collected on me thus far into an application on a PC in the exam room. I was intrigued by the software, naturally, and when she walked out of the room for a moment I had to fight an urge to have a look at the system for myself. This is another reason why it's good that my wife was with me; I have the same impulses but because she's there I have to consider the repercussions of embarrassing the both of us by way of my actions instead of just myself.
The nurse took my blood pressure and my heart rate, neither of which were all that superlative but this wasn't a surprise. "Do you have high blood pressure?", the nurse asked. The best response I could give was something of a shrug. Again, I'm fat, out of shape and I stress myself out over everything; it would've been a pleasant surprise if my BP had wound up being within a normal range but I knew that that wasn't going to happen.
Having done her job, the nurse left in order to make way for the headliner of the day - my new best friend, the doctor who'd be presiding over my care from this point forward. She and I talked about my concerns and issues I've been having, and she was very receptive in listening to me which I found to be right in line with everything Jill had told me about her. Based on our conversation, the doctor recommended that I have a sleep study done. That caught me off guard, to be totally honest with you. I knew I was in for some poking and prodding when I agreed to go down this path but I didn't think the process would go quite as quickly as it was.
The sleep study wasn't the only surprise Doc had for me that day. I had it in mind when I made this appointment that I may have to have blood drawn as that's a surefire way to know everything about what's going on inside a person, however nothing was said to me in advance about it. I assumed I was in the clear because I thought a patient was required to fast for 12 or more hours prior to having blood drawn so that a "clean" sample can be taken. Imagine my amazement when Doc sent the nurse back in to shove a needle in my arm! Good thing I hadn't had lunch yet, I guess, although in hindsight having a stack of pancakes with a half pound of bacon that morning might not have been such a good idea (I kid, I would never eat a half pound of bacon - it was fatback). To the credit of the nurse, she was very thorough in locating a vein and when she jabbed me I didn't feel much of anything. It became more noticeable after about the second vial of blood had been drawn, though, as the notion of a needle hanging out of my arm started to set into my mind. After she was done draining me, the nurse put a little wad of cotton on the injection site along with a piece of tape to hold it in place - not the gently removable kind of tape, this was the kind that takes every bit of hair with it when you inevitably yank it off.
At that point, there wasn't much left to do but pay the piper. Having been a member of the public sector for going on 6 years now, I can tell you that no one works these jobs for the fortune although the benefits package is quite nice. That said, I guess it's about time I got to use this medical insurance I've been paying for for so long now without ever really using it. Thanks to my coverage, a bill that would've cost me in excess of $100 wound up being around $20. I guess that's not too bad, all things considered, even though I left the office with less blood and money than I came in with.
I haven't returned to see Doc again as I'm waiting to have my sleep study completed before doing so, that way I can conserve some of my sick leave. Speaking of the sleep study, I'll be going in for it this Friday night. I'm a little concerned about it because I've done some research pertaining to what this type of procedure involves and quite frankly I don't know how comfortable I'm going to be with the wiring harness they put on you in order to record data while you're in Dreamland. Seriously, do a Google Images search for "sleep study" and look at the jumble of wires you have to wear - it's like they hand you a spool of random cables and Christmas lights then roll you down a hill, for crying out loud. I'm a side-sleeper, and not a particularly mobile one, so I imagine I'm going to wake up with a lot of interesting lines on my face from having laid on the wires all night.
I truly hope this test is useful, as in the people in charge of my care will be able to look at the results and tell me something other than "You snored while you were asleep...Don't do that.", because my wife does that for me right now. Likewise, I hope this whole process is beneficial in the sort of way that I'm able to learn about aspects of my life I can change to improve my health as that's what this is all about.
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