Posts Tagged Sleep
I am curious about how other people think about this sort of stuff. Do you find it interesting? Boring? Of value? Problematic? Indication of societal decline and the end of days?
Sleep seems like a problematic area for most of the people I know. I wonder if this extends as far into the general population as I think it does. From all the articles and websites dedicated to the topic, you’d think so. But then, you rarely hear from people when they’re happy; you most often hear from them when they have a complaint (if nothing else, working in video gaming has taught me that).
At any rate, I’m curious to see how many people find tracking of value.
Because a picture is worth a thousand words, and, honestly, because I am feeling too tired to do much of a write up on anything today… The sleep graphs from last night, starting with the fitbit.
And now the Zeo:
Zeo arrived today. I haven’t even opened it yet.
This comparison isn’t going to be precisely fair, since I’ve been using my fitbit for about 10 months, and I only used Sleep Cycle (an iPhone app) for one night. But I can definitely give some initial impressions.
I’ve already talked about how useful I find the information from my fitbit. Here’s the data from last night, and no, I’m not sure what I was doing up at 2:41; I was on Ambien and it seemed like a good idea at the time:
Here is that same night, from Sleep Cycle:
Tried a different CPAP mask last night and, according to my fitbit, slept slightly better.
Still not great. I should be around 95% sleep efficiency, ideally. And I ought to have more full sleep cycles in there; most people need a full 90 minutes to have a complete sleep cycle. It looks like I had two blocks that were long enough. I really would like to have three full cycles a night.
Interesting study on the correlation between sleeping disorders and celiac disease. I haven’t read through the whole article yet (I will, after work) but the gist of it is that sleeping disorders occur more frequently in people with celiac disease, whether they’re on a gluten free diet or not. This article traces the sleep disorders to anxiety and depression, which are also higher in the celiac population.
Of course, I am a biased audience. I want to believe that my sleeping disorders and my celiac disease are connected.
Technically, no one else in my family has ever been diagnosed with Sleep Apnea, but I’m pretty sure I’m not the first to have it.
What I’m about to say will no doubt provoke my father into an argument (one we’ve had before). But.
In 1990, one of my uncles mysteriously died. He was 38, seemingly hale and healthy. No one, at the time, could figure out the cause. All we knew was that during his sleep, he cried out and accidentally struck his wife. By the time she was fully awake and realized something was wrong, it was too late. She called for help, but the ambulance arrived far too late to do anything. The only theory the coroner had was that it was some sort of heart failure.
Sixteen years later another uncle cried out in his sleep, waking his wife. Her cry for help reached their son, who performed CPR while she called for an ambulance. This time, the ambulance arrived in time. It was cardiac arrest, in an otherwise hale and healthy man.
In the hospital, right after the attack but never again repeatable, my uncle evinced a heart arrhythmia. A prolonged QT, somewhat rare and unusual in that it strikes only during sleep. Very simply, that means that his heart took too long between beats.
My father may be right, and Sleep Apnea may have nothing to do with it. But. Sleep Apnea is known to cause cardiac arrest. Sleep Apnea is even known to cause not just heart arrhythmias, but also a prolonged QT.
“After adjustment for age and body mass index, the odds ratios were diminished but still remained significant: Sleep clinic OSA patients had a 2.6-fold greater risk of long QT syndrome than controls, while OSA patients from the general population were at 2.3-fold increased risk.” – Jancin, Clinical Psychiatry News.
Then let us look at the other comorbid conditions:
Each condition listed on that graph has enough supporting evidence to be included in the general sleep literature (although “pacemaker” is really more a treatment than it is a condition). But that graph, while lovely and useful (snagged from ResMed) is not absolutely comprehensive. It can’t be, because 1) it only addresses men, and 2) there are new developments that haven’t yet been accepted into the cannon. We also have evidence of links to Ischemic Stroke, GERD, PCOS, and Metabolic Syndrome.
Let’s be clear here. Correlation does not necessitate causation. Just because two conditions often show up together does not mean that one causes the other. Many of those correlations are still under study, although some (like the one with PCOS) have enough substantiation to be widely accepted.
Then there are the other standard signs (not conclusive on their own, but alarming when taken in conjunction) like snoring, trouble sleeping, frequent wakings, and fatigue (though don’t ever tell a doctor you have fatigue, they seem to think that translates directly to “depression” or “hypochondria”). To my mind, the presence of any of those serious conditions is good enough reason for someone to get a sleep study. Combine them with each other or any of the other signs… yeah. Get thee to a sleep doc.
Back to my family. All on my mother’s side of the family we have: sudden death during sleep, cardiac arrest, heart arrhythmia (specifically prolonged QT), GERD, ischemic strokes, frequent wakings, trouble sleeping, snoring, fatigue, and –if we’re counting me– PCOS and… wait for it… wait for it… SLEEP APNEA.
Sounds like a party, no?
I may be emotional about this issue (all right, I’m definitely emotional about it). But that doesn’t change the fact that within that one branch of the family we have 10 of the conditions known to be linked to sleep apnea — in addition to Sleep Apnea itself. My mom alone has six of those conditions. Six.
There is no way I am the only one.
Edited to add: Oh, ya. And one of my maternal cousins has a Sleep Apnea diagnosis, too. There are at least two of us in my generation.
To use the fitbit for sleep tracking, you slip it into the wristband that comes with it. In this picture, which I snagged from the engadget review, you can see the band and the fitbit. Do not wear it this way. It may look pretty and snazzy like this, but the fitbit will slip right outta there. (Enough reviews complain about this problem that it’s worth noting). Do the smart thing, slip the fitbit all the way inside the band. You won’t be able to see it anymore, but it won’t slip out.
You wear the band on your non-dominant hand. I don’t know why they specify the non-dominant hand, but I’m willing to accept that there’s a reason for it.
When you’re ready to sleep, press down on the button for several seconds until the word Start pops up. Do the same thing in the morning until the word Stop pops up. If you forget, it’s okay. You can add in sleep times manually on the website, too.
So far as I’m concerned, the sleep tracking is the most useful function of the fitbit.
On its own, the fitbit cannot give you conclusive information about your sleep. It can’t tell you if you have DSPS, or Sleep Apnea, or Restless Leg Syndrome. But it can tell you if your sleep is disturbed, which could indicate any of those conditions. Or could indicate that your cat likes jumping on your stomach at 2 am with claws extended.
Each pink spike in the graph above indicates a time when I moved around while trying to sleep. It doesn’t necessarily mean that I fully woke up each time, just that my sleep was light enough, or disturbed enough, at that point that I moved. At a sleep lab they’d call that an arousal (which is nowhere near as fun as what I usually mean when I use that word). When you’re in a deeper sleep phase, you don’t move around much.
This particular graph is from last Wednesday and indicates a very good night for me. I had 17 brief arousals, and managed to get over eight hours of sleep. I also was asleep at a decent time, which is an issue for me (remember my prior post about charting sleep?).
And here’s a bad night.
You can see that I was a lot more restless that night (Sunday). I still woke up 17 times. But I stayed awake, or aroused, a lot longer. And as I said earlier, not aroused in the good way. I totalled six and half hours of sleep, although I was in bed for 13 hours. This is incredibly useful information; I wish to heck I’d had this info when I was a teenager getting nagged for sleeping in so late on weekends and being zoned out in morning classes (8am Italian was excruciating).
If I’d known how bad my sleep was, I might have been able to do something about it. Or my father (the pediatrician) might have.
You see, I have sleep apnea. Want to know what the difference between those two nights is? The good night, I used my CPAP. The bad night, because of congestion, I didn’t use my CPAP.
See what I mean about that sleep tracking being useful? On its own, the fitbit doesn’t tell me I have sleep apnea. But it does tell me when I’m having trouble sleeping. And these results are consistent enough for me to say that my CPAP definitely makes a difference.
Here you can see how much sleep I actually got this month. Not how much time I spent in bed trying to sleep, but how much sleep. This is a key distinction.
You can also see how frequently I wake up during the night. There’s a huge variation there. Some of that correlates with how long I spent in bed (if you’re only in bed for four hours, you’re going to wake up fewer times than you would in eight). But there are other potential factors as well.
This data can help me figure out if the nights I take a decongestant are, overall, better. Or worse. Or no different from other nights. Likewise with taking Ambien. Or with exercising before bed. Or having a glass of wine before bed. Or changing my diet. Or any other variable I care to examine.
I promised you a sleep chart, and here I deliver unto you a sleep chart.
I made several decisions with this sleep chart that might not, at first, make obvious sense. Like, for example, starting the week on a Wednesday.
(Here it is in PDF: Sleep Chart 11-14-07 — 11-21-07-1. Clean templates are at the bottom of the post)
To tell you the truth, I don’t remember why I did that. I know I had a reason at the time, and it seemed to be a good one. Possibly because I wanted to show how far my sleep wandered between Thursday and Tuesday (seeing as I normally taught Thursdays and Tuesdays).
The other potentially less than obvious choice was the way I arranged the hours. The top of each column starts with 12 pm, so we have the day change (aka night time) in the middle of the chart. I wanted to show my sleep patterns, and the best way to look at those seemed to me to have the time in which I ought to be asleep showcased as a solid block.
I made the night time hours a darker blue and the daytime hours pale blue, so I could tell at a glance if I was sleeping at the appropriate time of day. Green was for when I actually slept.
In a “normal” pattern, like the one to the left here, the green would have been closer to the center of the chart. That’s pretty much my ideal pattern.
In my actual pattern, well, the green kinda slops all over the place, filling up morning hours and dripping over into the afternoons some days. Except, of course, for the days when I had to be up in time to teach or hold office hours. In which case, those green sections are looking sadly anemic. (Four hours! Can you imagine being coherent enough to rein in a classroom of resentful 18 year olds on four hours of sleep? Gah.)
The one yellow block in my actual chart is to indicate restlessness. The white block in the middle of the green indicates me being stuck awake for an hour. When I used an alarm to wake up, I wrote that down. When I took a medication, I wrote that down. When I got up to go to the bathroom, I wrote that down, too (bw = bathroom waking).
And here’s the addendum to that chart, which I kept on the same page.
I kept track of my hours of sleep debt at the bottom there. That week adds up to 10.5 hours of sleep debt, assuming 8 hours of sleep a night is the norm. It’s no wonder my charts made an impression on my doctor – they made it pretty clear that my sleep was crap.
If you’d like to try charting your own sleep, feel free to appropriate my templates. Or improve on them. Just, if you improve on them, please give me a copy, too!
You know that line about cleanliness being next to godliness? For me, it’s the collection and organization of data that is next to godliness. Except my version isn’t quite as catchy. I have this underlying belief that by collecting information, and organizing it, and presenting it correctly, we can figure out almost anything. (In my universe, God is a statistician). I can’t tell you how much I wish I’d taken statistics in school.
So, when faced with seemingly endless exhaustion and no solution for it several years ago, I started tracking my sleep.
I’d already gone to a doctor and asked for help figuring out why I was always so tired. She ran a blood test to check if I was anemic and then told me, “You’re just depressed.” Which was pretty, well, depressing. Looking back now, I wonder why she didn’t at least run a thyroid test (not that it would actually have helped, but at least it would have been more thorough). The thing is, I knew I was way more tired than I ought to be. I was 25 and needed more naps than my 85 year old grandmother.
I knew that I had a wonky sleep schedule, staying up until somewhere between 2 and 6 am and then sleeping as late as I possibly could whenever I had the chance. Which, considering that I taught two days a week and then graded or lesson planned the rest, meant that I did that the majority of the time. But then those two days when I actually had to get up and go somewhere and be vaguely alert and coherent were excruciating.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to get to sleep earlier, it was that I couldn’t. I would lie in bed, unable to fall asleep, and then give up and read a book. Or grade papers. Or write. Or IM with friends on the other side of the planet.
I began keeping a sleep chart, to actually track when I fell asleep, when I got up, and how I felt during the day. (I’ll see if I can find a copy and post it here, later.)
I also began reading The Promise of Sleep by William Dement, which had been a gift from an ex-boyfriend of mine. (That ex had been more worried than I was about my ongoing exhaustion. He was certain I had a sleeping disorder long before I was even willing to consider it.)
Reading that book, and looking at my own sleep patterns, it seemed pretty clear that I had what’s known as Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome. Which simply means that my body wanted to go to sleep at the wrong times. My circadian rhythms were off. The book also talked about several potential treatments, most of which would require prescriptions.
Unsurprisingly, I was pretty wary of going in to a doctor and and asking for help with my exhaustion again. So, I prepared. I actually called up a friend who worked in a military think tank to go over my approach. I wasn’t going to ask for any specific medications (hello, Ambien!). I wasn’t going to tell him what I thought I had. I was simply going to present facts. Then, if necessary, I would present my argument. I gathered together several weeks worth of sleep charts, with the times I’d been asleep highlighted in green.
I went in to my new doctor (you didn’t think I was going to stick around with the lady who told me I was just depressed, did you?). I presented the evidence. He looked at my charts in silence. He looked up at me. “All right,” he said, “I have to confess. I need you to show me how to read this.”
I showed him. He looked at my charts again, and began exclaiming. “What? You don’t get to sleep until after 2 am? You never get to sleep until after 2 am! No, no, no. This is too late. We need to do something about this!”
He ran off, grabbed me some samples of Rozerem (which, I’m sad to say, turned out not to work for me), and told me to call him in two weeks and let him know how it was going. If it wasn’t going well, I was to come back in and we’d try something else.
And that was how I discovered that I could use my OCD need to track data to get myself decent medical care.