SLEEP APNEA TEST

My doctor asked for a sleep apnea test which I had done in mid January of this year. Here’s what I wrote about the experience:

In all respects, the sleep apnea test was a nightmare. I arrived at the hospital at 9.00 p.m. and they started “preparing” me for a sleepless night. First they measured my head and drew lines on my scalp to which they stuck on electrodes to measure my brain waves while I “slept” (ha ha). There must’ve been at least 50 of them plastered all over my body: on my chin (to see if I grind my teeth in my sleep -I told them I do but they wanted to hear it for themselves) on my throat (a microphone to record my dulcet, musical snores), on both legs, right next to my eyes (to determine whether they were open or shut – very important that) on my temples (have no idea what that was supposed to measure) and all over the back of my head and well as behind my ears (don’t ask why the back of my ears were so important, because I just don’t know and frankly, at this point I didn’t care). By the time they finished sticking these things on me (with water soluble paste) I looked like I had suddenly started growing my very own spaghetti which was
erupting out of my body, all over the place!

But this wasn’t all – oh dear me no! They strapped a belt around my hips (to monitor if my stomach was going up and down which would tell them when and if I was breathing), another strap right under my armpits (to monitor my heart), a clamp attached to one finger (to determine my oxygen intake) and worst of all, a thing resembling an oxygen tube,(but not an oxygen tube), up my nose to monitor the quality of my breathing. Then the nurse wished me a good night (yeah – in her dreams, not mine) and turned off the light.

I lay there desperately trying to persuade myself that hey, so what if that thing up my nose was bothersome to the extreme and was driving me nuts, so what if no matter what position I lay I felt those electrodes pushing into my skull, so what if my feet were like blocks of ice, so what if I had to keep switching the clamp gizmo from finger to finger, because the imprisoned digit sweated profusely and ached after a while?

I tried thinking beautiful thoughts. “I am now lying on a sunny beach under a palm tree,” (I tell my inner self) “With gleaming blue water slapping on the shore, inviting me to plunge into it and bask in a warm, tropical sea.”

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” my inner self screamed, “YOU’RE LYING HERE INHOSPITAL, PLUGGED UP LIKE A SUNDAY ROAST CHICKEN WITH WIRES STICKING UPALL OVER YOU AND A THING UP YOUR NOSE!”

“Well yes, that’s true,” (I say to my inner self) “But can’t you at least PRETEND I’m basking in a tropical paradise?”

“PRETEND? PRETEND? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR COTTON PICKING MIND?” my inner self yelled. ” NO, NO, NO!”

So I lay there, hour after hour, and then my inner self kicked in again.

“No,” I tell it, “I DON’T need to pee!”

“OH YES YOU DOOO!”

“No, I don’t … ”

“YES YOU DOOO…”

Oh RATS, I have to summon a nurse to unplug me so I can toddle over to the toilet. Now I remember her telling me that there was a button on the wall behind my head that I was to press should I need assistance A pox on it, I can’t reach it. So my inner self came up with a good suggestion. “PULL THAT PLUG OUT OF YOUR NOSE AND TAKE THE CLAMP OFFYOUR FINGER – THAT’LL BRING HER RUNNING HERE IN NO TIME FLAT!” Well, for once, my inner self was helpful. I did just that, and sure enough, the nurse came rushing in and unplugged me, tucking a central box under my chest torture belt and so I was able to make my way to the toilet.

This went on from 9.00 p.m. until 5.30 a.m., at which point (may Heaven be praised) she came in and pulled off all those horrible electrodes off my body and told me to get washed – she handed me a face cloth. Never have I been happier to comply. I told her I hadn’t slept a wink, and she said “Oh yes you did – not much nor for very long, but you did sleep – and what is more, you SNORED!” Well now, isn’t that nice? My snores are now recorded in a machine for posterity.

I was presented with a questionnaire which I dutifully filled in. How did I find my experience in their laboratory? LOUSY! Did I 1) sleep much better than at home? (THEY MUST’VE BEEN JOKING) or 2) as well as I sleep at home? (NO WAY) or 3) much less than I sleep at home? (BINGO!).

What steps can we take to make your experience more pleasant?”

“HUH? FIND ANOTHER WAY OF MEASURING MY BREATHING WITHOUT STICKING A THING UP MY NOSE, FOR ONE, AND FIND ANOTHER WAY TO MEASURE MY OXYGENINTAKE OTHER THAN PUTTING A CLAMP ON MY FINGER. FIND ONE SPOT ON MY BODY TO MEASURE EVERYTHING THAT NEEDS TO BE MEASURED, AND USE JUST ONE ELECTRODE! AND FINALLY, A NICE HOT TODDY AT BEDTIME WOULD’VE BEEN NICE.
Right – I can just see them rushing to implement these suggestions – can’t you?

At the bottom of this questionnaire I was thanked for putting my suggestions and told how deeply they appreciated it. For my part, I deeply appreciated that the test was over and done with!

I got dressed, picked up my pillows (I’d brought my own pillows with me- all three of them) which I managed to toddle down the looong corridors to the entrance hall, where I waited to be picked up at 6.30.

There were two other sleep apnea patients there waiting for their rides. One was a little old lady, who was muttering to herself about not being too sure if she’d slept as well as she’d slept at home, or better than she’d slept at home. The other was a little old man in a motorized wheelchair who kept saying (much to my annoyance) how he’d never slept better in his entire life! HOW WAS THATPOSSIBLE? I screamed inwardly, feeling very envious. There was this old geyser, sitting in his chair (he hadn’t had to walk down miles of corridor like I did), looking disgustingly perky and fresh as a daisy, while I was plastered with water soluble paste all over my body, hair sticking up all over the place, eyes feeling like sandpaper due to extreme lack of sleep, and all around feeling like crap?

My ride walked in at 6.30 sharp and growled “It’s hell out there.” (This took place in the middle of winter, and everyone knows what Canadian winters are like)

Oh dear. I might’ve known.

“Why?” I asked.

“We had 3 inches of snow overnight that hasn’t been ploughed or salted, so it’s a skating rink everywhere. Of course, there are those silly a–es out there who drive like it’s mid summer. Getting you home is NOT going to be easy.”

He was right – it was quite frankly, terrifying. He drove very carefully, very slowly, but even so I could feel the car slipping and sliding all over the icy roads. It took us an hour to drive 5 miles! When we pulled into the garage, I felt like I should leap out of the car and kiss the ground!

Well, wouldn’t you know it? Three inches of snow to cap off a sleepless night (I don’t care WHAT the nurse said – I did NOT sleep) and a drive home in pitch dark, on ice, that was the scariest I’ve ever experienced? Isn’t that just PEACHY?

The results of this test eventually came in and they were: INCONCLUSIVE, PATIENT DIDN’T SLEEP. Ha! That’s what I said all along – that nurse who said I had was full of you know what.

My doctor asked me if I wanted to have it done again.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

P.S. I must reluctantly admit that the hospital had provided a very nice double bed, much to my surprise! Not that a nice double bed made a blind bit of difference, but still! – at least the old geyser enjoyed it!