My night away with 5 middle-aged men

Many of you have offered ideas, shared your sleepless stories and asked questions about the LiamLicks blog "Sleepless in Rhinebeck" dated May 7, 2009. I now know there are many sleep deprived folks out there, like me. One suggestion was a sleep center. I did take part in a sleep study a few years ago and would like to relate the story of my stay. There were two stays but I will combine the highlights into one story. Why did I go? Recommendation of a wonderful doctor. He figured it would be beneficial to know what might be going on when I was not sleeping. If I in fact did fall asleep, someone would be there watching, observing and recording what kind of sleep I was having: restless, twitchy, REM non-REM. sleep apnea, snoring and all that.
The sleep clinic is sort of a college dorm with single rooms and a master control center out of sight of the dorm. I arrived with my pillow, PJ's, eyeglasses, (I usually wear contacts). I drove Sassy (Saturn) to the Center Paul followed me there in his car, Sam Adams Saturn, Sammy. I was not sure why. Did he want to make sure that I got there and was strapped in place? As the other guests arrived, I noticed that I was the only woman, all my other dorm mates were men; all were being delivered by their wives or woman friends. None seemed to have been followed in an unmarked spouse's car as I had been. Paul left after he dispatched me, as did the other women delivery persons. We were processed. I was then led to my sleep room Quite nice. Better than a mid level hotel room; except no mini bar. One cannot eat or drink while this sleep study is going on. The attaching of electrodes begins. Quite an involved process-head, body, legs If you are interested in a complete description try this site-www.talkaboutsleep.com or you know, just Google-sleep, lack of, help...
I peeked out to see my dorm mates. Five middle-aged men in pajamas. I have not slept with a group of strange men since the Hampton's beach houses in the late 60's and early 70's. Chaste sleep, just sleeping off a wild night out. During those nights I learned to sleep on top of a bureau, never moving. Paul has always marveled that, back in the day, when I slept, I was like a stone, once in place, no movement. I always explained that in the Hampton's houses, all shared a house and I tried not to fall off the bureaus onto those beneath. Being small I got the lusted bureau top consistently. At least I was successful at sleeping then. But that was then, this was now. This time we all had electrodes, masks lots of equipment and were being watched by technicians. I liked the idea of being watched. My sleepless nights at home usually involve me watching Paul, Liam and the parakeets sleep-this time someone would be watching me.

In each room, there is a wide screen TV, bolted way up on the wall that you can keep on all night. You can read. You cannot drink lattes, sip wine, devour middle of the night snacks-so no comforting bread and butter eaten in the dark, no sleep meds and no Gabriel Byrne's "In Treatment" -which had not yet begun its run on on HBO This was scary. All these items are part of my sleep ritual. I was strapped, taped, and settled in with my five guy mates. I asked the tech if anyone ever goes crazy, rips off their electrodes and runs out. "Oh, people do go crazy. Only men, so far, they run out, call a cab and vow never to return. Most often their wives have forced them to come to the study." Interesting. I asked to be here.

I had placed my eyeglasses on the table. Now that I was strapped in they were not reachable as they were on the opposite side of the bed. So I could not see the TV very well. I am very farsighted and all the images were too big. I needed to back up 20 feet and that was not possible. I tried to inch towards my glasses but felt my attached wires moving. So there I was . No eyeglasses to read or watch TV. What was I to do, listen to the TV? I started thinking about the bathroom. I had not drunk anything for hours prior to my admission in order to avoid having to go to the bathroom. The technician had shown me how to detach my wiring with minimum disruption and then suit myself back up. My obsession with the bathroom grew and I had to go. I got up, unplugged myself, passed another dorm mate on the way "Sweet Dreams," he said: we both smiled knowing neither of us had a chance of that. Had he been one of those strangers sleeping beneath me, in one of those Hampton houses 40 years ago? Maybe. This made me smile.
I arrive at the bathroom; false alarm. I return to bed. I try to make sense of the wires, but need my eyeglasses. Before I can get them, the sleep technician comes in the room and announces "You got up." "Yes, I did. How do you know?" "We know everything. We are watching. Suddenly you went off radar." Oooh, my Leo self loves this. I am being watched all the time. They like me. My reattachment is not right. Something is now wrong with my wiring (my fault for getting up) and I have to move to another room. This new room is like a Manhattan studio, a closet. I am so sad. I had a suite, now I am being punished; I have to sleep in a closet. The tech insists this is not a punishment. There are no more available rooms-full house tonight (Just like the Hampton's). I say nothing; next offering might be the top of a bureau. I settle in and start the countdown. It is now 12:30 AM, I watch the clock 'till 3:30 AM. I cannot move, I am trapped in wires, face beneath a mask. I do not sleep.

Wait, a light is on, A new tech arrives, "Good morning, test over." Did I sleep?" No answer

The official test results show that I had 50 leg movements an hour-(restless leg syndrome confirmed), 150 body movements (insomnia confirmed) Gasping, snoring, pauses in breathing (Sleep apnea confirmed ) and top that off with no REM stage sleep, not once. REM is that deep sleep so necessary to feel rested. The tech says I can get dressed in my day clothes. I do. I see my dorm mates getting their stuff. Their wives/ female friends coming to get them. No patients ran away. This group stayed in place all night. Me and my five middle-aged men. Sassy Saturn is waiting in the parking lot.

I passed all tests. I am a sleep-deprived mess. I have earned the right to the much-coveted CPAP machine I will be given an in-home lesson. After that I will begin using it immediately. My life will change. I will sleep soundly forever more. My eyes will open up like my baby eyes no longer at half-mast like my grownup middle-aged eyes Yay! My future looks bright. The study was worth it.

I get in Sassy Saturn, drive home. It is 6:30 AM, daylight already. It is late summer. I pull into our driveway, go to the side door. I ring the bell, knowing Paul is getting ready for work. Paul- Who is it? Me-Whom do you think would be at the side door, at 6:30 AM with a pillow. Let me in. He does.

I shower. I change into my work costume ( that would be one of my power suits, which I have since given away to more powerful women) and we go to work; we work in the same place. Beyond cute, that.

I never used the CPAP

I am now retired from work, but not from life.

I have not worn a suit in 17 months.

I have not had a good night's sleep in 72 months.

I have a dog for 17 months; he sleeps. See below.

After a good night's sleep, Liam plays in the sun


Woof, woof, and Sweet Dreams to those who sleep.

Followed , Flagged and Flogged

I was on my way to my monthly hair appointment, 4 minutes away by car. I usually "nuse" it, meaning do the hypotenuse, angling through instead of doing the right angle turn at New Hyde Park Road and Hillside Avenue. The hypotenuse is the side opposite the right angle. It is a shorter distance.-so it should really be a shortcut. Add in the traffic light at Hillside Avenue and NHP road, "nusing it" is almost always quicker.

However, not this time.

When the green left turn arrow invited me to do so; I made my left turn from New Hyde Park Road onto Hillside Avenue. Light traffic. It was Friday, May 8, at 9:55 AM so the school and work traffic were done. I proceeded down Hillside and made every light, not on yellow either; legit green. As I neared my hair salon, I noticed a black car behind me, lights flashing. I thought, Wow, some of these cars whizzing by me are in for a speeding ticket today. I continued to the corner, made a left and pulled to the side to park This black car with flashing lights followed, pulling up behind me. What! This car is following me! At this exact moment my friend, the hair salon owner, pulls in opposite me and waves. I motion with my head to the car behind me. She nods, sizing up the situation immediately. A police officer emerges from the flashing black car and strides up to my car's left side. I attempt to roll down the window, but Sassy (my Saturn's name) is not cooperating, the window is stuck. I open the door, Police Officer (seems to be real, not a impostor, we have had impostors in Nassau) says, "Do not get out."No, I am not. Just cannot get the window down."P.O.-"Did you know I was following you since you turned at New Hyde Park Road? Me-"No. I never noticed." Why would I? I did nothing to merit being followed. I am thinking I am on the TV show "Lost" as this guy looks like Richard from the Dharma initiative. Perhaps I have traveled back in time just like the characters on the show as this cannot be happening in this current enlightened time. P.O.- "License and registration please." You have to be kidding! Police officer-"You went over markings on NHP Park Road." Markings? What is he talking about? I mention that I have a hair appointment right now. I add "and that is why I am waving to the person on the other side of the street." P.O.-I will get you in there soon "My appt. is at 10 AM. I hate to be late. The police officer from "Lost" takes my info. My friend goes to him to see why I am being detained and what, if anything, can be done. She gets nowhere.
Obviously, he is indeed from the Dharma initiative and I am now starring in "Lost." My crime is a mystery to me. I have a ticket for something not even listed on the ticket form and the range is $180-230. His parting admonition of "Drive safely the rest of the day" just seems cruel.

I enter the salon to much sympathy and anger as well as confusion over my offense.

After I am done , I drive to the NHP Road and the Hillside intersection to take some shots of the "markings" I have violated. As I am shooting, a tow truck ( not pictured) comes by and its driver lets loose a bunch of curses. " F_ _ _ Y_ _ B_ _ _ _ Stop taking my picture. You have no right." Great. Now I am abused by a driver, full of road rage who thinks I am photographing him. He must be guilty of something and I bet he knows what it is. I envy his knowledge of his crime. Where is my unmarked police car when someone is really misbehaving?

I do not understand my offense recorded as "drove over markings at NHP Road and Oak Drive. When Paul comes home we drive down to the street, to revisit the "scene of the crime." Paul decides the crime is that I went into the left turn lane too early for my turn and drove over the grid markings. Hmm.

Of course, I intend to go to court to plead innocent. No court in session that day. The following Monday I am booked all day. My first free time is Tuesday afternoon, May 12th. I set out for the Hempstead Court House that afternoon. I am very lost for a while. This always happens to me in Hempstead, as so many streets intersect and end up in different places after they cross each other. I finally arrive. The court officers are very nice. I am informed that I am too early. I am told that my ticket has not yet arrived, maybe by the end of May. For some reason, one of the officers asks my age, and for an even stranger reason, I tell him. "I am 58." No reaction. I say, "Your mouth is supposed to drop. You then say. You look so young." He says, "I am 61, do I look young?" Oh, yes," I reply obsequiously. Another question from this court officer-"Are you married? Me-"Yes." Officer-"Too bad, I am looking."
They suggest I call in a few weeks to see if my ticket has arrived. One of the group jokes, "Of course by the time we answer the phone, you will be 59." I reply "By then maybe I will be single." Only kidding.

No resolution.

Liam waits at home patiently

By the way, I arrived in the salon at 10:07 AM. Late. However, the ticket was written at 10:00 AM on the dot. I was there timely. Whew! I am NOT GUILTY.

NOT GUILTY of being late for my hair appointment, that is.

Woof, woof

Sleepless in Rhinebeck

I have sleep issues. It all started about 6 years ago with the onset of the big "M". Before young people and men start squirming, no, I am not going there-hot flashes and all the other symptoms are for the Oprah show, she does all that much better than my blog ever could.

We set out for vacation in Rhinebeck on Monday, April 27, 2009. This was a vacation trip in celebration of our 27th wedding anniversary, the Friday before. Liam also was going on vacation, to his place, Best In Show, same venue of his weekly Obedience Training sessions. I did bring items I use at home to combat my sleepless nights- two books, DVD player with the entire first season of HBO's "In Treatment," three newspapers, a notebook for jotting down ideas, my blackberry natural sleeping remedies: black cohosh, magnesium, some new vitamin called Myocalm, and several bottles of wine. Missing though were Liam, parakeets, Klonopin (my restless leg drug) headphones for the DVD (very important when in one room with a sleeping husband). An added change was that we were two people in one room, no rooms to roam. I have admitted that at home I sleep in the den with the birds and Liam I am equipped with a TV, blackberry, DVD player, books, magazines a lamp that I can read by. I can visit the fridge for nocturnal food comfort Even with Liam leaping for my snack ( he can leap 6 to 7 feet high) I still am able to get a bite most times.

We stayed in Rhinebeck three nights. I'll tell you of Tuesday, April 28 since it rivaled others as the worst sleepless night of my entire life. I should have had nights like this when cramming for exams in college, or partying till dawn-these were nights I wanted to be awake forever. However, sleepless nights are wasted on the old. Too bad.

We went out to a fabulous dinner at Terrapin just a short walk from The Beekman Arms Inn where we were staying. Terrapin restaurant was originally a church and still has that feel-the organ balcony was still visible. Nothing more sacrilegious than two Catholic school kids drinking wine in a church. We were done by 8:30 and headed back to the room for some TV watching. For me though it was a countdown to the dreaded time when Paul announces "lights out" and my misery of sleeplessness begins.

11:30 PM Paul announces "lights out." Cute, but not funny. My ordeal begins. Silence, then snoring. How can he have fallen asleep in 17 minutes? I am not used to this snoring, bed-hogging human. I sleep with Liam and the parakeets at home. Liam has no problem sleeping either, but at least he occasionally opens one eye to look at me Not Paul, he turns his back to me. Rude. I check the clock-11:47 PM. I take out my blackberry spending the next hour, reading and replying to messages. Then I access Facebook- I look at everyone's photo albums.

12:51 AM. I get up, look out the window-we have three windows in the room. Our Saturn (named Sam Adams) is the only car in the parking lot-Sammy looks as lonely as I feel. I go in the bathroom to see if I can somehow scrunch in the window and read. Good idea but not enough light.

1:33 AM- I start thinking about John McCain. He was in a box for 5 years. I should be able to stand a few hours of loneliness, darkness, and silence in this room.I decide to go over my life decade by decade, reviewing for regrets, triumphs and just happy memories. Since I am now 58, I have 6 decades to go through. This should bring me to daylight.

2:47 AM. I am very quick, did my whole life in one hour. I think of John McCain again.
I also entertain the idea of going to the hall or the lobby to read as this is an Inn and has some cozy spots. I don't do it.

3:30AM The birds start chirping. I would have thought they did not start till daylight. Nice to have someone else up with me. Paul has been thrashing about. Almost knocking me out of the bed a few times. I swat him and he stops. I write this LiamLicks in my head.

3:45 AM Someone on our floor has opened and closed a door. Someone else is up!!! three more times. I am not alone.
4:32 AM I get up to go to the bathroomon the way I hit my left arm into the bedpost. I decide that I will tell Paul he hit me in his sleep. This will be a wicked bruise later. I check the blackberry again. No new messages.

5:44 AM Paul awakens. He asks a series of questions: Did you sleep? No. Did you go to the lobby? No. Did you read in the bathroom? No. I show him the huge bruise, accusing him of bad bed behavior, He does not fall for it. He declares that I must have walked into something. He then returns to his sleep, unsympathetic; apparently convinced I am not a self starter, more like a pathetic creature unable to resolve this sleep issue on my own.

6:30 AM Sounds of life on Route 9. This is a workday and the workers are starting to move about. I check the parking lot. Our Sammy Saturn has company-another car. Another day has begun. Yay!

7:54 AM, That is it, I am up. There is light. The song "It's a Beautiful Morning" pops in my head, pushing away "There's got to be a Morning After" (Poseidon Adventure) which had taken up residence in my head all night.
There's got to be a morning after
If we can hold on thru the night
We have a chance to find the sunshine
If we keep looking for the light

I made it through the night. Did I crash later? No. Did I ever feel tired that day? No.
What did I learn?
1-I can get through a sleepness night.
2-I need klonopin
3-I need a laptop to occupy myself and connect to the world.
4-I need to know I can escape from one room and be safe somewhere.
5-That thinking of John McCain while in bed is comforting. Who would have thought that?
6 That watching a spouse sleep for 7 hours is a recipe for a "48 hours murder story."

I checked at the desk that morning. They assured me that I could have come down and cozied up in one of the sitting rooms on the ground floor The desk clerk looked at me with such pity. "I am sorry your stay has been so uncomfortable." I smiled and said , "that is okay." I knew I had another Liam Licks story.

We had one more night. I had plans to put a chair in the bathroom and/or to encamp in the lobby sitting room. A dear friend, also often sleepless, planned to keep me company during the night for as long as she could supplying me with stories and messages via e mail. However, I decided to drink a bottle of wine to medicate myself. By 11:30 I was sleeping or in a stupor.. When I awoke the next morning, our departure day, I saw all her messages on my blackberry. How thoughtful, sweet and funny. The last one said:
Where are you? Did you fall asleep in the bathroom?

And Paul's in person question? Did you sleep in the lobby? In the bathroom? No. Where were you? In the bed next to you. Thanks for not noticing.

Liam notices

Woof, woof

It's not you, it's me

A famous breakup line used on George Costanza (Jason Alexander) in one of the Seinfeld episodes entitled "Lip Reader" is "It's not you, it's me." His date, Marlene uses it on George and that leaves him quite annoyed as that is "his" line. Sorry, George but I have to steal it also as I have found another situation in which to use it and that is in Liam's obedience class. After 4 sessions, I am starting to arrive at the conclusion that I must communicate to Liam "it's not you, it's me."
The Basic Canine Obedience Training involves verbal cues, hand signals and body movements all at the same time. I cannot seem to put them all together. The simplest commands "sit," "come," " leave it, " involve body movements, hand gestures, clucking of the tongue, offering of treats and verbal praise all in one motion. Doing all these motions at once seems to be beyond my capabilities. My feeble attempts have left poor Liam sitting when he should be coming, laying down when he should be sitting or just staring at me with an expression of confusion and pity from the top of the stairs being able to put many motions together is what makes Derek Jeter a great shortstop-he can think, move and communicate at the same time. Or think of Tiger Woods looking, assessing, processing and swinging while being watched and cheered by hundreds. These icons possess hand eye coordination of a sort that is way above what I can produce. I am now convinced that Basic Canine Obedience Training requires the same skill set as a Star Shortstop, A Golf Master, or an accomplished Dancer

Lesson #4 from Basic Canine Obedience Class

SIT STAY-Hold lead and treat in left hand up along side dog's right ear (make sure the dog has slack). Give stay hand signal with right hand (hand held flat, palm up facing dog, fingers pointed to the ground). Say "STAY", put food in right hand, leave on right foot, go arms distance away. Hold treat out at the dog's head level. Gradually increase time, give food and praise.

THE SALSA-Ballroom Dance comparison
Salsa steps: The salsa starts with tap left on the first beat, a step forward on the same foot, a rock back onto the right foot. And the sequence is finished by stepping back left to close.

THE SALSA seems much easier than SITSTAY. There are no treats to transfer. And no verbal praise to remember. No barking.

I keep trying, with no success.

Albert Einstein is quoted as saying "Insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results."

Liam, It's not you, it's me

Woof, Woof