Weird Wool Wednesday: yarns for sleeping

It’s a week ago that I cunningly used wool to convey sublime messages to the doctors.
It worked marvelously, the psychologist took me very serious and saw I was tired but not depressed.
On to the neurologist I went. With one swoop motion he opened and closed his door and left me standing outside his office with an invitation for a neurologically monitored sleep over.
So, last night I spent at the sleep clinic, wrapped in all kinds of electro-spaghetti to measure my sleep waves and other quirks.

Our lovely model Sterny Stephen here shows where about all the electro-yarn is attached during such a monitored sleep or sleep registration:
slaapspul
I didn’t get the fancy pants though.

Here’s the various things they monitor: when I fall asleep (chin pieces), brain waves in various sleep stages (head pieces), eye movements for REM sleep (eye pieces), blood oxide (finger thing), restless legs syndrome (lower leg pieces), oxygen intake (nose piece), oxygen uptake (other nose piece), snoring (neck piece) and breathing rythm and volume (horizontal bands). And heart beat (blue dot).

My personal electro yarn-fest looked a little different though because I got the updated version where all wires come together in a device strapped to my chest with one central transmitter that sends all the info to the server. No need for the black shoulder bag.
It took two people a whole 45 minutes to tape and sculpt (they use clay to attach the sensors to the head) all the things to the right places. The chin pieces were glued with regular glue, straight from a class room I think, and it itched terrible. The chest bands were a little tight. As were the white tubes to keep things in place.

I felt a little miserable after that. It’s uncomfortable, I felt vulnerable in my undies, I looked like a clown and that glue made me nauseous.
I know just what to do when I feel a little miserable.

They have yarn?
I have yarn!
I brought some woolies to comfort me, to warm me and to make me happy:

truste
From the far end: my felted forest princess fairy clogs, classy handknit socks, a handspun vest, joyful wrist warmers, sleepshirt, flannel shirt, woollen kidney warmer, cowl, sleeping socks and a little turkish spindle.
Everything that’s needed for a good nights’ sleep!

But not too good a sleep because I need my regular insomnia to show up and be recorded by the devices!
I was really worried I would sleep through the night, as I do about six times a year. Please, let it not be this night!

On the wall it says “Good night” in various languages. And only in Dutch it says: “Sleep Well”.

Well… you want to see the clown eh?
This is me before I went to bed, still safely wrapped in my yellow cardigan and with no nose pieces attached yet:
ik-in-slaapspaghetti
I was told to wash my hair before hand but not to put any product in. It shows!

Luckily I can tell you that I did lay awake at night, had my usual insomnia and it’s recorded by all the devices. On August 6 the neurologist will tell me what it all means. I’m bringing an USB stick because I love to have a recording of the notable moments.
Like the exact moment when I woke up: what’s happening in my brain? Or when the night nurse hit me on the jaw, by accident: does the brain recordings match the infrared camera data? Or when I was dancing through the room with the empty glass and a piece of paper, trying to catch a large moth. I’m not kidding! At six this morning I had opened my curtains a bit and just when I stepped back into bed a large butterfly left the safety of the curtains.
It was one of those “House Mothers” again!
The Large Yellow Underwing.
Yes, it seems yellow works well in sleep studies.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s