Last Thursday I participated in a sleep study. I haven't felt rested or refreshed upon waking for approximately a decade and a half, so upon finding out this was not normal, I informed my doctor. She suggested a sleep study, but they're expensive, so it was then a question of whether I could get it ordered, and how much I'd need to pay. I ended up getting a heart doctor to order the study, of all things, but a doctor's order is a doctor's order. I wasn't able to track down the cost of the study, as no one can or would tell me, so that's worrying. The cost of a sleep study, without any cost-sharing, is $2000. Needless to say, I'm not interested in paying for the whole thing, but it sounds like I probably won't have to.
I was sent paperwork ahead of time, which I begrudgingly filled out. The paperwork also instructed me to come tired, and to go in the Emergency area of the hospital. I did that, but it was anxiety-provoking to be near the ER and to actually walk in the ER entrance. Also the security guard, who was cleverly hidden off to the side, nearly made me jump to the ceiling when she asked me what my business was. I guess a gigantic bag and a pillow aren't necessarily an obvious sleep study tell, or maybe she wasn't allowed to act on assumptions. She wasn't, like... unfriendly, just... not really friendly either. After I was given the okay to pass into the waiting room, I was relieved to see the waiting room was devoid of bleeding, sick, or otherwise unhappy people. There was a half-deaf older man that insisted on watching "the game," though, and it turned out he was also scheduled for a sleep study.
After awhile, I was escorted up to the room and helped to settle in by a lady I didn't see again. The room itself was kinda like a medium-low quality hotel room. Clean, but not fancy. The bed was fine, at least, though I suspect Chris, who prefers a soft bed, would hate it if he had to have one. The wall on the headboard side had about a dozen hookups for oxygen, lights, electricity, and other things I'm sure. None of them were used for this sleep study, I merely had a polite little box on the bedside table, which I was informed was a basic CPAP machine. That's the kind of machine that makes it so you still get air when you forget the breathe. Since this sleep study was mainly testing for sleep apnea, it made sense.
The tech was a stocky man with a sense of humor, so we chatted as he got things set up. I got to try out the mask, because there was a chance I would be wearing it later that night. According to the rules of the lab, if I stopped breathing 15 times in a single hour, the tech would need to put the mask on me and hope I went back to sleep. It's kind of hard to describe what the mask did, besides fitting over my nose. It seemed like it both pushed and pulled air through my nasal passages. When I opened my mouth to say something, it pulled air through that, too. It was disorienting, but not terrible. The tech himself suffers from sleep apnea, so he proceeded to tell me how much of a difference these things can make. I've heard it before, I just hadn't actually tried on a mask or seen one run.
After that was all done, the tech got me mostly strapped in with all the gazillion wires and helped me take a picture of the resulting mess. And it was a mess. I had about half the wires it was possible to have, which was still at least 20 wires. Most of them in my hair. My shoulder length hair. Scratching my head was nearly impossible. Keeping my hair out of my face was also nearly impossible. I didn't dare shift my hair too much, lest I dislodge one of the electrodes. And I did manage to do that prior to going to sleep, despite the waxy, greasy, sticky adhesive. The electrodes that weren't stuck to my head were taped down, which wasn't much fun afterwards since I am not a mutant hairless human.
Once I was all settled with wires, the tech went off to the other room to get the older man settled the same way, then plugged us both into the system. Then it was bedtime. I was very conscious of all the wires, so it might've taken me a bit longer than usual to get to sleep. I did sleep, at last. Very lightly, I think. I did my usually toss-and-turn thing, going between my side and my back. I always wake up when I do that, but this time I was extra awake because I was worried about the wires. I also tended to wake up every time I needed to scratch an itch, usually after I tried and my fingers hit wire/electrode instead of itchy skin.
I also woke repeatedly to the sounds of the intercom. The room, you see, was equipped with an intercom as well as a video camera for data collection purposes. This was so the tech could speak to us if needed. The older man, as I mentioned, was half-deaf, meaning the intercom in his room needed to be up as loud as it would go. Every time the tech needed to talk to him, I woke up. I did not, however, wake up to the tech helping me put on a CPAP mask, which means I didn't stop breathing 15 times in any one hour.
Eventually, at around 5:30 am according to my tablet, my brain decided we were done sleeping. It does that sometimes, and I can't figure out why. Hence the sleep study, also. I rolled around in the bed for another half hour, before sitting up in frustration. The tech jumped on the opportunity to call it quits on the study, and so I got to lose the wires by about 6:15am. The wires, and also a lot of skin and some body hair. I felt bad for the tech and myself, because I wasn't awake enough to stifle my pained noises until the last yank.
After I was de-wired, the video camera was turned off and I was offered the chance to clean up before heading out. Since I needed to drive an hour to attend a meeting in Lansing, I took the opportunity to freshen up. It involved washing a lot of gunk out of my hair, mainly. After I was cleaned up, there was more paperwork to do and I was presented with a voucher for breakfast. I ended up with a breakfast sandwich and a big cup of hot chocolate. So that was a nice way to end the experience. I wouldn't consider the experience fun, but it was certainly interesting.
I was sent paperwork ahead of time, which I begrudgingly filled out. The paperwork also instructed me to come tired, and to go in the Emergency area of the hospital. I did that, but it was anxiety-provoking to be near the ER and to actually walk in the ER entrance. Also the security guard, who was cleverly hidden off to the side, nearly made me jump to the ceiling when she asked me what my business was. I guess a gigantic bag and a pillow aren't necessarily an obvious sleep study tell, or maybe she wasn't allowed to act on assumptions. She wasn't, like... unfriendly, just... not really friendly either. After I was given the okay to pass into the waiting room, I was relieved to see the waiting room was devoid of bleeding, sick, or otherwise unhappy people. There was a half-deaf older man that insisted on watching "the game," though, and it turned out he was also scheduled for a sleep study.
After awhile, I was escorted up to the room and helped to settle in by a lady I didn't see again. The room itself was kinda like a medium-low quality hotel room. Clean, but not fancy. The bed was fine, at least, though I suspect Chris, who prefers a soft bed, would hate it if he had to have one. The wall on the headboard side had about a dozen hookups for oxygen, lights, electricity, and other things I'm sure. None of them were used for this sleep study, I merely had a polite little box on the bedside table, which I was informed was a basic CPAP machine. That's the kind of machine that makes it so you still get air when you forget the breathe. Since this sleep study was mainly testing for sleep apnea, it made sense.
The tech was a stocky man with a sense of humor, so we chatted as he got things set up. I got to try out the mask, because there was a chance I would be wearing it later that night. According to the rules of the lab, if I stopped breathing 15 times in a single hour, the tech would need to put the mask on me and hope I went back to sleep. It's kind of hard to describe what the mask did, besides fitting over my nose. It seemed like it both pushed and pulled air through my nasal passages. When I opened my mouth to say something, it pulled air through that, too. It was disorienting, but not terrible. The tech himself suffers from sleep apnea, so he proceeded to tell me how much of a difference these things can make. I've heard it before, I just hadn't actually tried on a mask or seen one run.
After that was all done, the tech got me mostly strapped in with all the gazillion wires and helped me take a picture of the resulting mess. And it was a mess. I had about half the wires it was possible to have, which was still at least 20 wires. Most of them in my hair. My shoulder length hair. Scratching my head was nearly impossible. Keeping my hair out of my face was also nearly impossible. I didn't dare shift my hair too much, lest I dislodge one of the electrodes. And I did manage to do that prior to going to sleep, despite the waxy, greasy, sticky adhesive. The electrodes that weren't stuck to my head were taped down, which wasn't much fun afterwards since I am not a mutant hairless human.
Once I was all settled with wires, the tech went off to the other room to get the older man settled the same way, then plugged us both into the system. Then it was bedtime. I was very conscious of all the wires, so it might've taken me a bit longer than usual to get to sleep. I did sleep, at last. Very lightly, I think. I did my usually toss-and-turn thing, going between my side and my back. I always wake up when I do that, but this time I was extra awake because I was worried about the wires. I also tended to wake up every time I needed to scratch an itch, usually after I tried and my fingers hit wire/electrode instead of itchy skin.
I also woke repeatedly to the sounds of the intercom. The room, you see, was equipped with an intercom as well as a video camera for data collection purposes. This was so the tech could speak to us if needed. The older man, as I mentioned, was half-deaf, meaning the intercom in his room needed to be up as loud as it would go. Every time the tech needed to talk to him, I woke up. I did not, however, wake up to the tech helping me put on a CPAP mask, which means I didn't stop breathing 15 times in any one hour.
Eventually, at around 5:30 am according to my tablet, my brain decided we were done sleeping. It does that sometimes, and I can't figure out why. Hence the sleep study, also. I rolled around in the bed for another half hour, before sitting up in frustration. The tech jumped on the opportunity to call it quits on the study, and so I got to lose the wires by about 6:15am. The wires, and also a lot of skin and some body hair. I felt bad for the tech and myself, because I wasn't awake enough to stifle my pained noises until the last yank.
After I was de-wired, the video camera was turned off and I was offered the chance to clean up before heading out. Since I needed to drive an hour to attend a meeting in Lansing, I took the opportunity to freshen up. It involved washing a lot of gunk out of my hair, mainly. After I was cleaned up, there was more paperwork to do and I was presented with a voucher for breakfast. I ended up with a breakfast sandwich and a big cup of hot chocolate. So that was a nice way to end the experience. I wouldn't consider the experience fun, but it was certainly interesting.
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