Years Without Sleep - Part 3

A few days later, I waited in my family doctor’s waiting room for fifteen minutes, and then another fifteen in the exam room before the doctor finally came in. Dr. Mayes stepped into the room, and then stood near where I sat on the end of the exam table. She made a few notes on her clipboard.

            “So, Marjorie. What’s up? Can’t sleep?” The doctor set down the clipboard and then began the examination, pressing the stethoscope to my chest and back, looking into my ears, my mouth and my eyes. “Weight’s okay, could lose ten pounds and feel better, but compared to most people I see in here, you’re doing great! In general, how do you feel?”

            As I went through my litany of complaints, tears began to well up in my eyes. She reached over and patted my hand. “Got a short test you need to take. I’ll have Nancy give it to you. Sounds like depression to me, maybe some anxiety. Your age, plus everything you got going on. Let’s see if some new meds help.”

            I nodded and sniffed, reaching for a tissue on the table. When I left her office, fifteen minutes later, the primary diagnosis was depression. I had a couple of sample cards of pills to try and two prescriptions to fill. When I got home that evening, I found a note from Dan on the kitchen counter.

            “Unexpected business trip. I’ll be in Boston at the Embassy Suites. Be back Friday.”

            That night, I had the best night of sleep I had had in years. I woke, feeling like a different person. A different groggy person. The doctor had said to give my system two weeks to get used to the medication, and that effects like grogginess would even out. Several days passed. I continued to sleep well at night. Trouble was I also slept well at my desk during the afternoon, on the dinner table during meals and on the sofa watching television. I hoped that the meds would straighten out by Friday, when Dan returned.

            Then, Thursday afternoon, in an attempt to make up with Jan, I offered to pick up her daughter Lyndsey from a rehearsal, while Jan worked late. One minute I was driving down the street, trying to keep my eyelids open, feeling like I needed a good nap. The next second I was off the road, rammed into a tree, with my radiator spewing antifreeze and my airbag deployed. My ribs, head, back and neck all hurt. Thank God that no one had been in the path of the car, and that I had gone off the road instead of into another vehicle or even the sidewalk. And thank God that I had not yet picked up Lyndsey.

            I sat in my car, stunned. I could have been killed. I could have killed any number of people, including Lyndsey. The citation from the police officer wasn’t punishment enough. I called Jan, then watched the wrecker drive off with my car, and waited for her to come and pick me up.

            She didn’t speak as I got into the car. She was no doubt thinking the same thing I’d just been thinking. Thank goodness Lyndsey hadn’t been in the car. A few blocks down the road she finally looked over at me. “So, you need to go to the body shop now, or home?”

            “I told the shop that I’d check with them tomorrow. The insurance guy has set up the estimate. I guess I go home, and figure out how I’m going to get to work tomorrow.”

“I think you’ve got to figure out more than that. We’ve been friends a long time, Margie. I hope you get this worked out. Meanwhile, I won’t ask you to pick up my daughter or drive me anywhere. I don’t even think we should see each other. It’s all just a little too un-nerving.”

I nodded. I didn’t blame her. I chewed on one fingernail.

“And I hate to be the bearer of more bad news.” Jan continued. “Dan called. He couldn’t get you at the office or on your cell phone. He’s decided to stay in Boston for the weekend, do some sightseeing. Said something about needing a break.”

A break?! We’d been sleeping in separate bedrooms and rarely eating together. If we exchanged twenty words with each other at one time it seemed like a long conversation.

My hands began to shake, and so did my body. Then a sob burst from my throat and I was suddenly crying really hard. I couldn’t make myself stop. What had happened to my life?

The next morning, my entire body ached. Although I’d taken a long hot shower the night before, my muscles were knotted and tense from the jolt of the accident. Nothing short of a visit to my massage therapist would make it any better. I stared at my haggard face in the mirror. Puffy circles under my eyes, baggy lids, deepened wrinkles. I looked as bad as I felt.

I called the office to let them know I would be late. Mr. Perkins secretary, Natalie, put Mr. Perkins on the line when I told her I would be late.

“Marjorie? What’s the problem?”

“I’m going to try to get into my massage therapist first thing today,” I explained. “I wrecked my car last night and my back is all messed up. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Don’t hurry, Marjorie. In fact, don’t bother to come in at all. Take the day off, your sick leave will cover it. And when you get back on Monday, we need to have a talk. I’m not sure we can continue as your employer, Marjorie. But we’ll talk about that Monday. At 8 a.m., please.”

“But Mr. Perkins. . .” I sputtered. He hung up. I sank down into the chair at the kitchen table and put my head in my hands.

How had things gotten so messed up? I went to the refrigerator and poured myself a cola, and then grabbed my morning chocolate bar. I picked up the two bottles of pills, and read the labels again. “Take one tablet by mouth every day.” One for nerves, one for depression. When did I get so nervous? We had plenty of money. The kids were all out of the house and in school. This was supposed to be a great time in our lives, with time to ourselves again. Instead, my friends were mad at me and my husband was spending the weekend in Boston without me. And I was on medication for depression? I didn’t feel hopeless. I hadn’t lost my enthusiasm for the things I loved to do. I was simply having trouble sleeping. It all had to do with sleeping.

I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate. What was I going to do? The pills were making it worse, not better. And I couldn’t help but think that I really didn’t need them, there was something else going on.

When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the cookbooks, diet and health books that I kept on the corner shelf. One book in particular caught my eye. It was a book about using different types of foods as a remedy for a health problem. What would it say about sleeplessness? I wondered, as I reached for the book.

Fifteen minutes later, I got up from the table, poured out my cola and threw away the chocolate bar. In that small bit of time I already had a good idea what my problem was. Too much caffeine. I had been filling up my body with cola and chocolate, both full of caffeine. If my body had sensitivity to caffeine, even a small amount of it any time during the day might prevent me from being able to fall asleep, or from sleeping through the night. I read about how natural ingredients in milk and other dairy foods, and potassium-rich foods like bananas can help your body slow down and prepare for sleep. These foods affected the levels of serotonin and melatonin in the body, both of which are essential for restful sleep.

It seemed unbelievable. I had spent hundreds of dollars on medical tests and prescription medicines, yet things weren’t getting any better. Could it really be as simple as cutting out colas and chocolate and other caffeine-filled foods from my diet?

            I made a list of the foods that were suggested to help sleep problems, and noted that I should eat something small just before bed, something dairy or something starchy. Permission to have a bedtime snack!

I learned that caffeine can stay in your system for 6 to 8 hours! That meant that having either chocolate or coke after 2 p.m. could make it hard to go to sleep at 10 p.m.!

I went to the pantry. I looked at the 12 packs of cola and the stacks of chocolate candy. Was it possible that I was doing this to myself? That I had been doing it to myself for years?

I was willing to try anything now. My marriage and my job were at stake, as was a friendship that I cherished. I put all the chocolate bars in a plastic bag and set them on top of the refrigerator. Then I moved the 12 pack of cokes out to the garage. Out of sight, out of mind might not work when my cravings hit, but this was a beginning. I would take the candy and cola to work Monday and let the other employees devoir them while I tried to save my job.

But first on my heart and mind was saving my marriage. Was it really in trouble? Was it really possible that Dan was fed up with me, and ready to call it quits? He had accused me of having an affair. But he knew me better than that; I felt sure that he knew I would always be faithful. He’s a history buff, I could imagine him walking Boston’s Freedom Trail on Saturday, and sitting in some Irish pub Saturday night. Without me.

I called directory assistance in Boston for the hotel’s phone number and caught Dan in his hotel room.

“Honey, I’d like to come up for the weekend. I think I’ve got this thing figured out, and I’d like to talk to you about it. It would be a great weekend getaway, and I really want to share it with you. Sound okay?”

Dan insisted on calling his travel agent to get me on the first available flight. Then I called my doctor.

She took the time to listen as I explained what I had not told her during my appointment. She agreed that what I was eating could be a big part of my sleep problem. I had expected her to argue with me about not completing the prescription, and rant about self-diagnosis. But she agreed that I didn’t give her all the facts, and in that visit I hadn’t been willing to discuss what I’d been eating and doing to my body to cope with this night time problem. As we reviewed the situation, and I came clear about my cravings and bad food habits, she agreed that I should try a weekend without the meds, and without caffeine of any kind.

I’m going to give it a try, and see if it helps. I’ll do whatever it takes to get my body healthy again. There’s simply nothing like a good night’s sleep.