during a sleep study. The hours-long hesitant highway to slumber is littered with random thoughts of increasing peculiarity. Come. Stroll with me down the laborious path to dreamland.
Breathe in. Breathe out. This sucks. Breathe in. Breathe out. This totally sucks.
I should have probably tried reading. Reading would have made me sleepier. Because I’m not sleepy. The straps on this damn thing are itching my neck. And the mask feels like a slo-mo punch in the face. Gawd, how do people DO this? When I open my mouth air shoots out of it. Like a dragon spitting fire. Breathe in. Breathe out.
Am I comfortable on my right side? I think so. I don’t think I need to turn over yet. I need to cough. Good thing I’m wearing the nose-only mask, so the nurse won’t have to come clean the damn thing every time I cough. That would be gross. What would you call someone who has to do that, a “phlegmologist”? Gaahh.
Wonder what the sensors look like when I cough. I bet I could spell something with coughs. Nothing more complex than NIN or MIMI, but I bet I could do it.
My nose is whistling. And it’s not like I can blow it. Sniff? Okay, jet-propelled sniffing sucks. How do people DO THIS?
I think I need to roll over. Crap. Okay, finger sensor out of the way, shift chest band, belly band…is that thingie coming off my leg? Crap, it is. Hope she doesn’t have to come in and redo that. I told them I don’t have restless leg. Hell, maybe I’m a rockette in my sleep. You’d think my thighs would be more toned, though…
Okay, turning over… hair out of the way… how many sensors ARE there? This thing is pinching my ear. Miss Fishback in first grade used to pinch our ears. That woman had a grip. Bet she could actually lift a kid that way. Wonder how much weight your ear could actually hold before it let go…
Okay, turning over… ow. What the hell did I pull? Okay, pillow… dammit, the finger sensor cord is under the pillow. Hope the sensors don’t actually record thoughts. I’d have a page full of pungent and poignant profanity. Ha! Pungent, poignant, perfidious, primordial profanity. P P P P P.
Crap. I have to pee.
Do I really? Bladder check without preconceived notions: crap, I really do have to pee. Okay, the nurse said to just say her name. Nancy? Was it Nancy? I had two friends named Nancy in college who were inseparable, and when people found out that both their names were Nancy they would always ask if they were sisters. Like their mom had no imagination.
Teresa. That’s her name… Teresa. Not Nancy at all.