Saturday, October 6, 2012

3 million percent. part 1

Oh mercy, where do I start? So much to say, so much to catch up on. I think I'll start filling you in and when this post gets too long I'll throw in a cliffhanger and you'll be dying until I come back and tell you more.

Yep, that's what we'll do.

So, here we go.

Telling you this feels a lot like peeing with the door open. Youknowwhatimean? I'm putting it out there. All in. Totally honest. I prefer to be that way, it's easier than trying to keep things that I really don't mind talking about to myself. Hopefully this doesn't make anyone uncomfortable. Even if it does, you'll keep reading, because that's what people do. They take solace in other people's dysfunction.


I have hesitated saying anything for a variety of reasons. At first it was shock and then it was denial and then it was acceptance. But I was too busy to give it the attention it deserves.

I have some time now, so...shall we?

Remember when I would blog about how I never slept and then I took that goofy sleep test? The results came in. And those results sent my life down a completely different path than anything I could have possibly anticipated.

On August 21 I went to meet with a sleep doctor. Did you know that sleep doctors are psychiatrists? I didn't know, until half way through our little discussion that he was a psychiatrist, and I was shocked when I found out.

I don't know why.

He told me that I did not have sleep apnea but that clearly something was causing my insomnia. He then proceeded asking me 1000 questions and with every answer I could see him pulling thoughts from the inner recesses of his mind. Changing courses of questioning as we went. I spent the most of the time wondering where the heck this was going.

After 45 minutes he told me I had three options.

1. Come into the clinic and do the $800 over night sleep test that would confirm I did not have sleep apnea.

We both agreed this would be a waste of time and money.

2. Allow him to diagnose me. Allow him to treat me. Meet monthly until we both agree that we are treating the right thing and go from there.

3. Do nothing. Live a tired sleepy life. Attempt to cope.

I asked him what he would do. He said he believed he could help. He said he wanted me to let him try.

I was too tired to argue...


  1. Woman, I know this is a hard story to tell but it's mean of you make it a cliffhanger!! Argh! I want to read the rest even though I already know what happened! You're a meanie. ;)

  2. I'd be too tired to argue, too. I need my overnight sleep. And naps. And repeated instances of "resting my eyes" throughout the day. Can't wait to see how this ends!

  3. What a cycle: craziness is killing your sleep and sleeplessness is making you crazy...I hope this story finds a happy ending, Catherine! Love, Your crazy friend Amelia