Showing posts with label lack of sleep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lack of sleep. Show all posts

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Attack of the Sleepless Zombies.

A couple days ago, I was talking to my buddy from Columbus about being a parent.

'It's great, Blah, blah, blah.' 'It's awesome blah, blah, blah.' All that stuff.

Then we got on the subject of sleep.

"Man," he said. "Those first two years are something else, aren't they?"

"Yeah," I said. "You get no sleep at all.

"It's like you're walking in a fog," he said.

"It's like your a zombie," I added.

"Sometimes I felt like I was a robot, too" he said.

"Me too," I said. "Like Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still?"

"Exactly like Gort from The Day the Earth Stood Still," he said.

The we started to talk about porn.

Looking over DrudgeReport today, I came across an article from This is London talking about sleep deprivation. (See full article below)

I totally agree with the article. I've wrote about it before and normally I don't bitch about this type of stuff. But, these past four days, I've been a walking zombie due to our eight-month old waking up at night and screaming for a bottle.

My wife-to-be and I have worked out a plan, of sorts, where I feed him when he wakes up the firt half of the night. Then she takes over around 5:30 a.m. or 6 a.m. Then, I can sleep until 7:30 a.m.

Trust me, neither option is great.

But, what's exciting is the fact that he's only waking up once (or twice) a night now. (Our two-year old daughter, by the way, sleeps like a rock.)

A couple more months and, hopefully, he'll be sleeping through the night.

But that doesn't help me right now. Now does it?

The study suggests that 'being deprived of sleep even for one night makes the brain unstable and prone to sudden shutdowns akin to a power failure - brief lapses that hover between sleep and wakefulness.'

The findings also state 'that people who are sleep-deprived alternate between periods of near-normal brain function and dramatic lapses in attention and visual processing.'

This is totally me. I work as a copywriter and when I come into work after one of those sleep-deprivated nights, I have a hard time finding the right words for the simplest things.

TRUE STORY: We were at the park the other day and our daughter ran up to an object and pointed to it.

I couldn't think of the word for the life of me.

I looked over to my wife-to-be and said, "What is that?"

She looked at me strange.

"That...," she said pointing to the bench like I was a little bit special. "...is a bench."

Just like in the Tom and Jerry cartoons, my face turned into a big jackass face.

Which begs the question, maybe it's not sleep deprivation at all? Maybe it's early onset Alzheimer's?

Great. Yet another sleepless night worrying about that.

FULL This is London ARTICLE:
Losing just one night sleep can cause the brain to experience 'power failures' according to research

Being deprived of sleep even for one night makes the brain unstable and prone to sudden shutdowns akin to a power failure - brief lapses that hover between sleep and wakefulness, according to researchers.

"It's as though it is both asleep and awake and they are switching between each other very rapidly," said David Dinges of the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, whose study appears in the Journal of Neuroscience.

"Imagine you are sitting in a room watching a movie with the lights on. In a stable brain, the lights stay on all the time. In a sleepy brain, the lights suddenly go off," Dinges said.

The findings suggest that people who are sleep-deprived alternate between periods of near-normal brain function and dramatic lapses in attention and visual processing.

"This involves more structures changing than we've ever seen before, but changing just during these lapses," Dinges said.

He and colleagues did brain imaging studies on 24 adults who performed simple tasks involving visual attention when they were well rested and when they had missed a night's sleep.

The researchers used a type of brain imaging known as functional magnetic resonance imaging, or fMRI, which measures blood flow in the brain.

They found significant, momentary lapses in several areas of the brain, which seemed to frequently falter when the people were deprived of sleep, but not when these same people were well rested.

"These people are not lying in bed. They are sitting up doing a task they learned and they are working very hard at doing their best," Dinges said.

He said the lapses seem to suggest that loss of sleep renders the brain incapable of fully fending off the involuntary drive to sleep.

He said the study makes it clear how dangerous sleep deprivation can be while driving on the highway, when even a four-second lapse could lead to a major accident.

"These are not just academic interests," he said.

Friday, February 29, 2008

An Open Letter To The Sandman.

Dear Sandman,

Hey there. It's me. Eimer. Do you remember me? If not, let me refresh your memory.

When I was a kid in Martins Ferry, Ohio, almost every night I would see you creep into my room with that purple Crown Royal bag filled with sleeping sand.

But, before I could open my eyes and say "Gotcha", you would do your magic and dump a couple loads onto my eyelids. I would be in la-la land for eight to ten hours every single night.

Not a care in the world.

I'm not sure if you remember or not but, on Christmas Eve night in 1979, I left some cookies and milk right next to Santa Claus' dish for you to eat. Remember that?

Yeah, that was me. I'm not sure how many other kids would've go the extra mile for you like I did. Huh?

Then came high school and college. Man, you must have been working overtime with the sand. I remember logging, on average, 12-hour sleeps almost every night. I even missed some classes because of your work.

It was around this time Metallica sang a song praising your work. I really enjoyed that song. No. No, really. I did. Sometimes I hear it on the radio and think about the good ol' days between us.

They were pretty crazy times weren't they?

Then, after college, you would continue to dump the fairy dust. Thanks to my good-old alarm clock, I was able to wake-up, rub the sand from my eyes and get to work on time. And I never did thank-you for helping me out on those drug- and alcohol- fueled weekends. I really needed to get some sleep and you came through in the clutch.

Good times. Good times. It reminds me of the lyrics to the song Oh La La by The Faces.

"I wish that I knew what I know now, When I was younger."

Sigh.

Which brings me to the reason I'm writing you. It's been a couple years since I've seen you around at night on a consistent basis.

Oh sure, maybe you've stopped by to sprinkle a couple specks on my eyelids now and again. But not like you used to.

Now, it seems like I'm waking up every two or three hours.

I guess what I'm saying is I'm missing the sand, man. I'm missing the sand.

And don't think I haven't seen you tip-toeing around the house dropping sand on my two-year old daughter's eyes. I've even seen you drop a couple specks on my wife-to-be's as well.

But not mine. And, for some strange reason, you've been missing my 5-month old son too. What's up with that?

Did I do something to upset you? Are you running out of magic sand? Do you need some help? I can pay you. Seriously, it's not much. But, I can pay you.

I guess I'm just asking that when you fly through Bath, Ohio, tonight; could you please make sure to bring a couple extra bags of that special magic sand. Because I'm in dire need of a good night's rest.

Oh, and just a reminder to drop a couple extra loads on my son's eyes as well? He really needs it.

Well that's about it. Thanks for all your hard work thus far.

Anxiously awaiting your visit and thanking you in advance,

Eimer

P.S. Down the line, if you need a break I would be willing to help you out on a couple midnight sleep runs. Pro bono, of course. For all the great work you've done for me (remember Spring Break 1993?), I could never bring it upon myself to send you an invoice.