Welcome back to my diary of a sleep study.
Last week I mused about the process that led to me being signed up for an at-home sleep study.
I left you with my idea of what that might look like — and as you can see by the photos in this story, I was significantly underestimating the contraption.
The day of the study came around and, with a 3pm appointment to get hooked up, the advice was clear: most people like to head straight home afterwards to avoid brushes with the general public or colleagues while attached to the machine.
Most people don’t use every life event for content though.
The process itself was quite smooth, a credit to the employees at the local sleep centre for making something that was a bit daunting very much less-so.
I needed a referral to conduct the study — so don’t just go rocking up looking to get hooked up — but even then I had minimal idea of what was about to happen.
Having been told to wear a comfortable shirt that I would sleep in that night, I felt a bit out of place with my slacks and dress shoes on, but seeing as I was going back to work I had to stay somewhat presentable.
Firstly, the main ‘body’ of the machine was attached to my chest, and its smaller counterpart to somewhere around my belly button.
Then came the fun stuff.
Wires and their respective sticky-pads (the scientific term for them, I’m sure) began to land everywhere around my head and neck, as well as on my chest.
I was also instructed carefully on how to apply the finishing touches to the setup once ready to head to bed.
I was asked what time I usually went to sleep, and after the usual dad jokes about kids and sleeping, I settled on 10:30pm — certainly aspirational rather than accurate.
But how was I received back in the office — and how I went trying to sleep through a sleep study — will have to wait for part three next week.
Tyler Maher is the editor of the News.