Sleepy Time - September 2009

Have you ever had one of those days when you can’t keep your eyes open and you are overcome with that “I can’t wait to go to bed” feeling? Unfortunately, these days for me have turned into “I dread going to bed.” I am in one of those cycles where I can neither fall asleep or stay asleep, despite the comfort of my hotel-named “Heavenly Bed,” the presence of sleep-inducing (daytime only) recliners (one in the bedroom, one parked in front of the TV in the family room), open windows, ceiling fan or air conditioning and enough activity to keep me tired and longing for a good night’s sleep.

Oh, I can sleep. If I am in front of the TV and there is a great game or program on, chances are that I will fall asleep (conversely, if nothing I want to watch is on, I’ll be wide awake; go figure). Put me in a movie theater and I’ll fall asleep just as Meryl Streep accuses Father Philip Seymour Hoffman of molesting a student in “Doubt.” I fell asleep in the opening credits of “The Aviator,” the movie about Howard Hughes. I completely missed Cate Blanchett’s Oscar-nominated performance as Katherine Hepburn. I fell asleep watching “Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon,” and “Il Postino,” and let me tell you that you should never sleep during a movie with subtitles. You can at least kind of hear the movie while you are sleeping, but reading subtitles is impossible with your eyes closed. I even once fell asleep in an airplane before we took off. And since I retired, I have enjoyed countless cat naps, so it isn’t like I can’t sleep. I just can’t sleep when and where I am supposed to sleep.

Just about everyone I know gets up at least once during the night for a visit to the bathroom. My problem is that instead of just going, I debate the merits of the trip: Did I wake up because I have to go or should I go because I am awake? Thankfully, I live alone, because no human could take being subjected to the tossing and turning that follows, or the continuous loop of “SportsCenter” playing in the background while I try to dull my senses back to sleep. Further debate ensues: Should I stay in bed or move to the recliner? Do I need a blanket? I wonder what the weather will be today. Should I turn off the alarm and skip aqua aerobics? Should I just get up and get my day started? How many words can I name that end in “ment?” What’s on?

Given all of this internal conversation, it is no wonder I wake myself up. One morning I was up well before 6 a.m., a time I could never arise when I needed to for work. By 7 a.m., I was dressed, went downstairs and out the front door in search of the Sunday paper, for which I found myself too early. I tried the downstairs recliner and then the couch. I must have slept, because for a moment, I opened my eyes and didn’t know where I was.

The doctor wants to know if I snore or have sleep apnea. Good question. I don’t think so for the latter, but snoring is possible. It’s just that no one is here to confirm or deny any potential physical problem. I have thought of putting a tape recorder on the nightstand, but the thought of having to listen to myself sleep – or not – is enough to, well, bore me to sleep. Vicious cycle, huh? So I don’t know whether I snore or have sleep apnea, and, after reading this, I doubt there will be a line of volunteers willing to help me find out.

I know the drill: Get up and go to bed at the same time each day, relax and do nothing strenuous right before bed (check), don’t drink coffee after dinner (since I don’t drink tea or coffee, that’s not an issue for me), don’t take naps during the day (let’s not be unreasonable, OK?) and, as my mother used to tell me when I couldn’t sleep as a kid, think pleasant thoughts.

Perhaps some of this problem is caused by the many steps it takes to get me to bed. There is literally a last step: My bed is so high I have to use a stool to climb into it. That’s after the moisturizing, washing my face (which always wakes me up), brushing my teeth (ditto), using the hand cream, putting on the wrist splints to combat carpal tunnel problems in both wrists and strapping the dorsal night splint on my right foot and shin for my plantar fasciitis. No wonder I am so wide awake by the time I turn in.

I know that eventually I will get into a better routine and enjoy sleep again. But when you wake up and your first thought is, “When can I take a nap today?” you know it will be a long day’s journey into night.