My sleeping problems reached a point where waking up was truly hell on earth. Imagine being physically exhausted, finally being able to sleep after hours of tossing and turning, and then having someone wake you up ten minutes into that blissful sleep, telling you that it is time to start your day. That was my every night, every day experience. I would just lay in the bed and cry. My mom would lay there and cry with me. We had no idea what to do. I was literally living in a nightmare.
On top of all of this, I was still in middle school. I was experiencing that horrid period in life where everyone is jockeying to establish themselves in the best social positions possible. This point in a student's life can make or break their high school experience. And here I was, that weird kid that came in late every day. I relished the thought of having everyone stare at me as I walked into the middle of a class. I hated being judged for something I didn't even understand. Sometimes I would hide in the bathroom at school and just wait until everyone was changing classes so I could slip in unnoticed. All I wanted to be was invisible.
At our collective wits end, my mom and I went to the pediatrician begging for answers. I was prescribed Ambien at the age of 13. The first time I took that pill, I was sitting on our kitchen counter. Not twenty minutes after I had swallowed that chemical concoction, the kitchen floor began spinning and pitching. I thought I would fall. Luckily my mother was there and she walked me to my room so I wouldn't hurt myself. However, I decided that it would be a grand idea to see if I could walk in a straight line. I found the sensation to be hilarious. Admittedly, I did fall asleep easily once the novelty of the drug wore off. The next morning, however, was an entirely different story. I was an emotional wreck. While I had cried over my lack of sleep before, this was entirely different. I was in a hysterical state, just sobbing. Nothing made sense and I was emotionally disturbed by Ambien, apparently.
Once we had determined that Ambien was clearly not the answer to my problems, my pediatrician made the life changing decision to refer me to our local sleep clinic.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Sleeping Patterns: A History
To say that I was a normal child is a stretch.
Scenario 1:
Imagine a house on Christmas morning with a five-year-old little girl inside. What would the average child be doing at, lets say, 9 a.m.? Foaming at the mouth to open her presents to see what wonderful things Santa had left? Or would she be fast asleep in bed? I, of course, don't know the true answer to that question as I was always fast asleep. The first clue to my parents that something might be slightly off with their child should have been the fact that I had to be wrenched out of bed around noon to open those coveted presents.
Scenario 2:
As a child, I adored everything Disney. I was fortunate enough to go to Disney World just about every year from the time I was old enough to appreciate it until I was a pre-teen. As much as I wanted to absorb every aspect of those magical parks, and stick to our itinerary in order to fit everything in during our trip, I would absolutely beg to be allowed to sleep. I recall one trip with another family that has a girl my age and twins two years younger than us. I was about nine. The other family had a room adjoining ours and, as would be expected, the other three children were up at what seemed to be the crack of dawn squealing and ready to go. Since I was the only other unfortunate one in the bed, they descended upon me. Its been a while since that trip, and I don't exactly recall the details of what was said, but I do know that, at one point, I rolled over and cried because they wouldn't allow me to sleep. How many nine-year-olds do you know who do that?
Scenario 3 - School Time:
When I was 6 & 7, my mom would have me shower in the mornings in the hopes that it would wake me up. In fact, quite the opposite occurred. I would lay down on the shower floor and go back to sleep. In the shower, water on. Talk about a productive morning...
After it was determined that the whole shower in the morning thing was clearly not working, it was eliminated from the routine. This time, all I had to do was get up, walk to the bathroom, get dressed and brush my teeth. Simple enough, right? Wrong. To start off with, my mom had to physically get me out of bed and walk my zombie-like self to the bathroom where she would leave me to get dressed. Once in there, I would curl up on my clothes on top of the vent on my cold tile floor and go back to sleep.
It may, or may not, come as a surprise that I was labeled as being a lazy child. Sure, Scenario 3 could have come about due to pure laziness, but in context with my two other scenarios, it is fairly clear that something was not quite right.
In addition to all of these problems waking up, I was also having trouble falling asleep. I remember laying awake in my bed, staring at the window while everyone else was sleeping, at the age of three. When I was about ten, I recall staring at the clock, watching the time just tick by until it was 3 a.m. Sometimes, I would be reading or working on homework (I am a productive night owl... Really, it's when I get things done) and fall asleep, only to wake up at 2 with the lights still on and my face in a text book. Not exactly typical 10 year old behavior, as far as I know.
I sometimes cringe, looking back on my childhood sleeping patterns and habits. To think that no one, not my parents, grandparents or pediatrician, noticed that something was amiss is slightly unsettling. But, of course, hindsight is 20:20, and no one can be blamed for such an oversight.
Now that you are fully aquatinted with my childhood, we will move on...
Scenario 1:
Imagine a house on Christmas morning with a five-year-old little girl inside. What would the average child be doing at, lets say, 9 a.m.? Foaming at the mouth to open her presents to see what wonderful things Santa had left? Or would she be fast asleep in bed? I, of course, don't know the true answer to that question as I was always fast asleep. The first clue to my parents that something might be slightly off with their child should have been the fact that I had to be wrenched out of bed around noon to open those coveted presents.
Scenario 2:
As a child, I adored everything Disney. I was fortunate enough to go to Disney World just about every year from the time I was old enough to appreciate it until I was a pre-teen. As much as I wanted to absorb every aspect of those magical parks, and stick to our itinerary in order to fit everything in during our trip, I would absolutely beg to be allowed to sleep. I recall one trip with another family that has a girl my age and twins two years younger than us. I was about nine. The other family had a room adjoining ours and, as would be expected, the other three children were up at what seemed to be the crack of dawn squealing and ready to go. Since I was the only other unfortunate one in the bed, they descended upon me. Its been a while since that trip, and I don't exactly recall the details of what was said, but I do know that, at one point, I rolled over and cried because they wouldn't allow me to sleep. How many nine-year-olds do you know who do that?
Scenario 3 - School Time:
When I was 6 & 7, my mom would have me shower in the mornings in the hopes that it would wake me up. In fact, quite the opposite occurred. I would lay down on the shower floor and go back to sleep. In the shower, water on. Talk about a productive morning...
After it was determined that the whole shower in the morning thing was clearly not working, it was eliminated from the routine. This time, all I had to do was get up, walk to the bathroom, get dressed and brush my teeth. Simple enough, right? Wrong. To start off with, my mom had to physically get me out of bed and walk my zombie-like self to the bathroom where she would leave me to get dressed. Once in there, I would curl up on my clothes on top of the vent on my cold tile floor and go back to sleep.
It may, or may not, come as a surprise that I was labeled as being a lazy child. Sure, Scenario 3 could have come about due to pure laziness, but in context with my two other scenarios, it is fairly clear that something was not quite right.
In addition to all of these problems waking up, I was also having trouble falling asleep. I remember laying awake in my bed, staring at the window while everyone else was sleeping, at the age of three. When I was about ten, I recall staring at the clock, watching the time just tick by until it was 3 a.m. Sometimes, I would be reading or working on homework (I am a productive night owl... Really, it's when I get things done) and fall asleep, only to wake up at 2 with the lights still on and my face in a text book. Not exactly typical 10 year old behavior, as far as I know.
I sometimes cringe, looking back on my childhood sleeping patterns and habits. To think that no one, not my parents, grandparents or pediatrician, noticed that something was amiss is slightly unsettling. But, of course, hindsight is 20:20, and no one can be blamed for such an oversight.
Now that you are fully aquatinted with my childhood, we will move on...
Thursday, May 27, 2010
An Introduction to Dreaming Without Sleep
Hi! I'm Caroline! I am an 18 year old college student in the heart of Georgia. I was diagnosed with Periodic Limb Movement Disorder (PLMD) in January of 2004, at the age of 13. I decided to start this blog for three reasons:
1) To vent my frustrations about my disorder.
2) To educate the general public about this debilitation condition.
3) To reach out and connect with others in a similar situation.
That being said, here is a brief history of my experience with PLMD!
Though I was diagnosed as a teenager, in hindsight, I have likely suffered from this condition my whole life. However, my sleep/wake problems culminated when my mother was no longer able to physically drag me out of the bed and force me to get dressed for school. I would wake up sobbing that I had just fallen asleep. I was referred by my pediatrician to a local sleep clinic which gave me my diagnosis. I was found to have PLMD with an average of 63 significant leg movements an hour. A signifiant movement causes the brain to shift from a deeper level of sleep to a state close to wakefulness. In essence, my brain was waking up 63 times an hour without me ever knowing about it. I have had several more sleep studies since then, including a narcolepsy study, in addition to many rough years adjusting medications, attempting to explain my condition to my peers and trying to keep up with all the school work I was forced to miss over the years. I am now in an environment in which the school is much more understanding to my 'disability' and my fellow students are much more sympathetic. This is likely due to increasing maturity levels, but that is a subject for another day.
I implore anyone who is suffering for PLMD to contact me. I would love to hear your story and share mine with you.
Check back soon, I have many intriguing ideas just ready to be written out!
Sleep Well
Caroline
1) To vent my frustrations about my disorder.
2) To educate the general public about this debilitation condition.
3) To reach out and connect with others in a similar situation.
That being said, here is a brief history of my experience with PLMD!
Though I was diagnosed as a teenager, in hindsight, I have likely suffered from this condition my whole life. However, my sleep/wake problems culminated when my mother was no longer able to physically drag me out of the bed and force me to get dressed for school. I would wake up sobbing that I had just fallen asleep. I was referred by my pediatrician to a local sleep clinic which gave me my diagnosis. I was found to have PLMD with an average of 63 significant leg movements an hour. A signifiant movement causes the brain to shift from a deeper level of sleep to a state close to wakefulness. In essence, my brain was waking up 63 times an hour without me ever knowing about it. I have had several more sleep studies since then, including a narcolepsy study, in addition to many rough years adjusting medications, attempting to explain my condition to my peers and trying to keep up with all the school work I was forced to miss over the years. I am now in an environment in which the school is much more understanding to my 'disability' and my fellow students are much more sympathetic. This is likely due to increasing maturity levels, but that is a subject for another day.
I implore anyone who is suffering for PLMD to contact me. I would love to hear your story and share mine with you.
Check back soon, I have many intriguing ideas just ready to be written out!
Sleep Well
Caroline
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