I did it! I survived my sleep study.
It was quite intense. I think my expectations were a bit skewed. I was envisioning more like a mini retreat.
It was all business. Sleep business.
And the minute the lights went out and the door shut behind the sleep technician as she whispered, "good night", I went into full panic mode.
Luckily I was really tired. She had asked if I wanted to watch a bit of television before I fell asleep. But I declined. I knew to take advantage of the heavy lidded, dull brained feeling I had when I was really sleepy. Television might wake up my brain.
As she was attaching my electrodes, I watched a show on Animal Planet called "Lone Star Law", about Texas game wardens. I was hooked! It was fascinating. I rarely watch tv, and we don't have cable at home, thankfully. But this show drew me in. In retrospect, I should have continued to watch it until I fell asleep.
Something about being hooked up, tucked in, lights off, door closing, felt like the finality of a prison door slamming shut.
I had a few moments of panic, but settled into the pillows and breathed slowly in through my nose and mouth. And drifted off.
Suddenly, at precisely 12:00 a.m., my eyes flew open. My heart was pounding. The technician said there was a speaker by my bed. I could ask her anything. But I didn't want to bother her. She was very business like. I couldn't exactly tell her I was scared and would she come sit with me. Tell me a bedtime story! lol
So I practiced my breathing. I adjusted my position. My legs felt restless. She had them hooked up to electrodes, to monitor my leg activity. My nose itched. I went to rub it, but remembered I had a tube in my nose to monitor the air flow. I suddenly felt panicky. Trapped. Claustrophobic.
I tried counting sheep. But they turned evil in my imagination. I tried counting backward from 100. Several times. But my heart raced even faster.
I tried breathing slowly, just letting my mind go. Big mistake. All the bad things that had ever happened to me come flying through my brain. Like a bad movie.
After about an hour of thrashing about and probably moaning in distress, the technician came in. She asked if there was anything she could do to make me more comfortable.
I told her I was embarrassed, but I often had insomnia.
"Maybe I needed to use the restroom?" she suggested.
|I nodded. She came over and unplugged me. I trudged to the restroom. I almost screamed when I saw my face in the mirror. I had not seen how I looked with my electrodes attached.
I came back out. She asked if I needed anything else. I asked for another pillow.
She tossed me one, reattached my electrodes and turned off the light.
Again she whispered "Good night" before softly closing the door.
And again, my heart took off like a race horse. It was horrible. Probably the worst insomnia, anxiety and restless leg experience in my life.
It didn't help that I was worried that my sleep study would be null and void. After all, how could the doctor diagnose sleep apnea if I didn't sleep?
I finally noticed a spot of light on the ceiling. Everytime I had a negative thought, I looked at the light and I rebuked the thought. In the name of Jesus.
Suddenly, I was able to pray. I asked God to let me sleep. The light seemed to glow brighter. I kept staring at the light, as my eyelids became heavier and heavier...I must have finally slept. Because before I knew it, the door opened. It was the sleep technicion. It was 6:00 a.m.
"Good morning!" she chirped. "I know you didn't sleep well last night, but there is enough info on your sonogram for the doctor."
I asked if I could rest a bit more.
"Absolutely not", she shook her head sternly. Once I unhook you, you need to shower, eat breakfast and then leave."
Definitely not a 4 star hotel here.
I nodded and got ready. She had a tray with orange juice, green tea and a Nutri-Grain bar for me. I saved the bar for my daughter and sipped the tea.
I couldn't believe I was actually walking out, carrying on a conversation. Smiling.
My heart still thudded remembering my night of horror.
I hope I don't have to repeat it again.
But the cool morning air revived me a bit. I had Gracie duty this morning at 9:30 a.m., but that gave me plenty of time to stop for breakfast. I am trying to get back on track with grain free eating, especially gluten free.
I hopped on the Max downtown. It was interesting being downtown Portland at this hour. It was about 7:30 by the time I rolled into the Pioneer Square stop. The city was coming alive. Everyone seemed to have a purpose. So many people bustled by, holding cups of coffee, wearing sensible walking shoes, many carrying backpacks.
One woman stood out. A young Asian woman with long silky hair. Wearing a tunic, leggings and stilletto heals. And walking quite confidently in them, might add. She was heading to one of the banks. A teller, perhaps.
I remember the days when I wore high heels. What was I thinking? I looked down at my comfy walking sandles. Comfort was one of the most important things in my life now. I no longer had anything to prove. I don't know what I was trying to prove in my younger days. Memories from my visions of last night's horror threatened to start flooding back, but I shook my head.
I kept watching people. Then I noticed that there were others watching. On the benches, sat several people. Mostly looking very tired or downtrodden. Perhaps homeless. But they too were watching the working force parade by.
I suddenly felt a little more lighthearted. I survived. I may not get the prize - the CPAP machine I desperately believed I needed. But I could certainly start working harder on my health again. I'd fallen off the wagon with my eating. Yesterday before my appointment I even had a Walla Walla grilled onion cheese burger and onion rings at Burgerville. Was I thinking it was my last supper? I don't know. But perhaps my last supper produced some of my symptoms.
So instead of grabbing the bacon egg and cheese biscuit I was craving at McDonalds, I headed to Starbucks and had a bowl of oatmeal and ice water.
Then, I opened up the book I am reading by Joyce Meyer: Battlefield of the Mind. My heart almost skipped a beat when I opened to the page I had bookmarked. The beginning of chapter 12: "An Anxious and Worried Mind".
The hair on my arms stood straight up as I read the first sentence:
"Anxiety and worry are both attacks on the mind intended to distract it from seerving the Lord. The enemy also uses both of these torments to press our faith down, so it cannot rise up and live in victory"
Battlefield of the Mind: Winning the Battle in Your Mind, Joyce Meyer.
At the beginning of the chapter she also quotes Pslam 37: 8 "Fret not thyself in any wise." (KJV)
If only I had read this book last night when I was being attacked by the evil forces, even if they were only in my head.
I sat and read the whole chapter at Starbucks. Then I got on the bus and headed to Vancouver, to see my sweet granddaughter.
I was tired, yes. But we had a wonderful, sweet day. I even got a nap when my daughter returned from her meeting.
Then we headed out for an early supper. Just us girls. We found a lovely little Thai restaurant in Vancouver. With friendly, smiling servers, delicious food, quaint decorations and stellar AC!
I finished the evening with Gracie with our traditional Little House on the Prairie. This little girl is 10 months old, she has learned to crawl, and several words. She also interacts with the characters on the screen. She squeals with delight when the dog they thought had drowned returns. And she smacks her lips together loudly when Pa and Ma kiss. And when they hook up the horses to the covered wagon, she says "Hee-YA" with Pa to get them moving.
I didn't work today. I didn't even exercise.
But it was a very good day.
On that note, I am heading to bed. I am bring my Joyce Meyer book and my bible to bed with me in case my mind decides to attack again.
I am armed and ready!
Talk to you tomorrow!
Love,
Zita
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