After three weeks of waiting, I finally got the results of my sleep study yesterday afternoon. I arrived at the Sleep Disorder Clinic around three o'clock and joined three other people in the waiting room, all of which happened to be middle-aged, heavy set, men. I just kept thinking to myself how out of place I felt in there. They all brought their CPAP machines with them, stored tightly in their handy-dandy carrying cases and I began to panic over the fact that I was soon to be issued one of those same machines, in a boring, boyish, blue case.
True to form in the medical field, I was made to wait about twenty-five minutes to see the doctor. It was all I could do to fight from laying my head back on that chair and going to sleep. Anyone who is around me a lot, you know how often I say, "I could go to sleep right here". That's really how I feel all the time. It doesn't matter when or where. So needless to say, I was ready for the results.
They finally came out and called my name and I followed Dr. Sokhandan to her office. I was a little nervous when I sat down across from her because all I could see were these CPAP, Darth Vadar, elephant breathing machines on the shelf in front of me. She pulled out this manilla folder with my name on it, and started glancing over the results from my sleep study. I held my breath. Then I heard her say that my evening study did not show any signs of my having sleep apnea at all. In fact, all of those results looked relatively normal. Then she moved on to the day study results, which is when I had taken all those naps. The red flag to her was the fact that at twenty-eight years old, I was able to fall asleep within 5-10 minutes every time and sleep soundly enough to reach a dream state. In her words, "that's not a good thing" and "from these results, I would diagnose you with a mild case of narcolepsy".
Narcolepsy, people. Beka has narcolepsy! It's not the severe kind where I fall asleep mid-conversation or behind the wheel, but it is mild enough to cause me to suffer from Extreme Drowsiness Syndrome (EDS). And no, I did not make that up. That's legit. I'm still not one hundred percent sure of everything, but here's what I know. I sleep at night, without being restless or without gasping for air. The problem is a chemical imbalance in my brain with the protein that regulates sleep and awake cycles. I'm already researching the protein itself and also the meds she gave me to try and regulate it. I don't really want to be on a prescription med for the rest of my life, but I do want to feel awake. Who knows.
All this to say, I DO NOT have sleep apnea.
I DO have narcolepsy.
I've seen Deuce Bigalow. Let the jokes and taunting begin. :)
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Holding On
Maybe it's my extreme exhaustion. Maybe it's my hormones, which tend to be thrown off by my exhaustion. Maybe it's just the fact that time is passing, against my will.
Whatever the reason, I find myself desperate today.
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I'm desperate for God to really show up in my life.
I'm desperate for Him to show me what to do.
I'm desperate for change.
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And He knows that.
He sees me where I am.
He hears my heart's cry.
He cares about all of it.
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And so I cling to His promise, once again.
*******
"But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you.
He's gathering strength to show mercy to you.
God takes time to do everything right - everything.
Those who wait around for Him are the lucky ones."
(Isaiah 30:18)
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Fingers Crossed
Sunday night I checked myself into the Southeast Regional Sleep Disorder Center for my much-anticipated sleep study. I was really excited about getting it over with, but was just as nervous about what I could expect from the experience. I've been so ready to find out what is keeping me from ever feeling really rested. Although I wasn't given any "results", I was told that they "got a good study and the doctor shouldn't have any problem making a diagnosis". Somehow that didn't ease the anxiety of it all, but I guess we'll find out in two weeks.
Allow me to tell the story....
I drove up to the building, and parked my Explorer among the 4 others in the parking lot. I belive there were 2 other studies going on at the same time, plus the night-shift technicians working. Anyway, so I walked in the door and was greeted by a sweet, Southern, white-haired woman named, Ann. She was responsible for "taking care of me" that night. She walked me down the hallway to my room, which somewhat resembled a hotel room. She showed me where the bathroom and the kitchen were and then gave me time to get ready for "bed" so she could get me ready for the study. Little did I know how I was to be prepared! I washed my face and brushed my teeth and then went back to my room, #4 (I shall never forget it), and then Ann came in and proceeded to hook me up. She attached 4 electrodes to my legs, 1 to my side, 2 on my chest, 7 on my head/scalp, 4 on my face, a snore mic on my throat, and an oxygen monitor to my nose. Needless to say, I was a sight. Just ask the two people I was brave enough to send the picture to. They know and were quick to tell me how ridiculous I looked. See for yourself.
After she attached on the wires and electrodes to me, she had me get into the bed (the bed was actually really really comfy, which was a pleasant surprise). Had I not been wired up like a nuclear weapon, I may have slept more soundly. Maybe that's the point though. Anyway, she ushered me off to dreamland, but not before talking to me through the intercom. I failed to mention that there was an intercom and a video camera in #4 with me, wherewith my every word and action could be monitored. Creepy. She spoke to me through the speaker and had me shift my eyes, blink, grind my teeth, cough, move my legs, and all this other stuff that I'm not sure what the purpose was. After sending quite a few text messages, I was able to doze off. I did wake up sometime in the night to Ann standing over my bed with a replacement oxygen monitor thingy (official name) because I had somehow removed mine from my face. Joy! I had no problem going right back to sleep, but was awakened once again by Ann saying, "You're almost at 8 hours, so it's time to wake up". Seriously, Ann? I was not happy with her, despite her precious dimeanor the night before. She informed me that the day shift technician would be in my room in about 30 minutes to get me ready for my first nap. A nap? I just woke up. The kicker was that when you weren't sleeping you had to be out of the bed. So, I dragged my squinty self over the the recliner and turned on the tv to try and stay awake. There's really nothing on that early except informercials, which I reluctantly zoned out to. I think it was something about teaching babies to read. It looked legit.
Thirty minutes later, Kelly comes in to get me ready for my first nap. I never saw Ann again. Too bad. I liked her. Kelly explained to me that I would have twenty minutes to fall asleep and fifteen minutes to sleep. So, if I was able to fall asleep immediately then I could technically sleep for 35 minutes. At that point I would have taken 5 minutes. She hooked me back up the monitors, talked to me briefly through the intercom and then said something that I thought was hilarious. She said, "Go ahead and get comfortable and don't resist the urge to fall asleep". As if I would even want to resist the urge to fall asleep. I didn't resist in the slightest and was asleep in minutes only to be awakened minutes later, in the middle of my REM cycle, to be told my nap was over. BAH!!!! There was and hour and a half until my next nap, so I was forced to try and stay awake in my chair. I succeeded and then proceeded to take 4 more naps, each lasting 15 minutes. By the end of the day, I was pretty annoyed with Kelly for jerking me out of all my naps, even if that was her job. I finished the whole thing about 4:30pm on Monday evening and made a beeline for the backdoor. I was ready to be done with it. I needed a shower. I needed to eat. And I needed to sleep for more than 20 minutes.
So that's the gist of it. It was an experience that I'm hoping proves fruitful and worthwhile. I'm hoping that when I go back in two weeks, the kind doctor will be able to provide some answers for my constant state of exhaustion and some solution for the problem. Fingers crossed, everyone!!!!
Monday, February 2, 2009
wasted
Q: Why did the boy throw the clock out the window?
A: Because he wanted to see time fly.
That's the kind of joke my friend, Sara, would tell with a childlike giggle in her throat. That's one of the things I love about her, is her ability to make me laugh at something so not funny. As not funny as that joke is, the whole idea about time flying has had me thinking a lot lately. I've really begun to think about, and be conscious of, how I spend my time. Maybe it's because I'm getting older. I don't know. Whatever the reason though, I'm aware.
I don't feel like I waste time, although some could qualify the several hours a week I spend watching smutty tv as wasteful. I try to keep myself pretty busy every day. I've tried to involve myself in activities from sunrise to sunset, partly because I don't like going home to spend too much time in an empty apartment. Whatever the reason, I'm not home all that much. So, I've started to question how I'm spending my days.
I work. I coach. I work out. I have Bible studies. I hang out with friends. None of those are bad things. But am I making a difference? Outside of work, there really isn't that much time left in each day and I want to make sure I'm actually using the time I've been given for something that will last longer than me. I have no doubt that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be at this point in my life, but I don't want to simply be satisfied with being here. A lot of times I feel like I'm just hanging out and taking up space, but I know that's not true. I want to use this time I've been given to make a difference, whatever that looks like. I guess I'm just trying to figure that out and I guess my point in writing all this is to say that I want to be sure I'm not missing opportunities because I'm wasting the time I'm given.
A: Because he wanted to see time fly.
That's the kind of joke my friend, Sara, would tell with a childlike giggle in her throat. That's one of the things I love about her, is her ability to make me laugh at something so not funny. As not funny as that joke is, the whole idea about time flying has had me thinking a lot lately. I've really begun to think about, and be conscious of, how I spend my time. Maybe it's because I'm getting older. I don't know. Whatever the reason though, I'm aware.
I don't feel like I waste time, although some could qualify the several hours a week I spend watching smutty tv as wasteful. I try to keep myself pretty busy every day. I've tried to involve myself in activities from sunrise to sunset, partly because I don't like going home to spend too much time in an empty apartment. Whatever the reason, I'm not home all that much. So, I've started to question how I'm spending my days.
I work. I coach. I work out. I have Bible studies. I hang out with friends. None of those are bad things. But am I making a difference? Outside of work, there really isn't that much time left in each day and I want to make sure I'm actually using the time I've been given for something that will last longer than me. I have no doubt that I am exactly where I'm supposed to be at this point in my life, but I don't want to simply be satisfied with being here. A lot of times I feel like I'm just hanging out and taking up space, but I know that's not true. I want to use this time I've been given to make a difference, whatever that looks like. I guess I'm just trying to figure that out and I guess my point in writing all this is to say that I want to be sure I'm not missing opportunities because I'm wasting the time I'm given.
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