Letters to the Editor

Townsend Letter for Doctors and Patients, April, 2001

Now Sleep!

Editor:

I may have found a drug-less cure for my "chronic fatigue syndrome." Or perhaps this disorder isn't really "yuppie flu" at all. All I know is that what I thought was a new designer disorder might be a simple sleep problem. It appears that's what it is in my case.

For the past ten years my answer to "how are you?" has increasingly been "exhausted" or "tired" to the point that I finally was bored with myself and would say I was fine. In my mind the way I was feeling was just another annoying symptom of the so-called "aging process." For all I knew every one of my age-mates felt exactly like I did: not as energetic as we once did, but not visibly disabled.

This has been such a gradual development that I can now see why I never was alarmed about it. Nothing like a pain somewhere that would send me speeding to my doctor, no bones broken, no rash, no taking to my bed. And I could function, plod through the activities of the day. But while babysitting my grandsons, or working at my temp jobs, or gardening, or playing tennis, the prospect of lying on the couch at the end of my exertion must have subconsciously been inspiring me to press on. Sure, I can finish planting my garden and in two hours I'll be supine on my couch, the little voice whispers.

Dwelling on this nebulous, pervasive state of my low energy level has never been at the top of my list of problems needing solution. How can I even describe this condition which is always with me but can't be observed? It isn't like having migraines, which I have now been free of for two years, thanks to acupuncture. And not like my inevitable weight gain, which is there for all to see. Low energy is debilitating, but not to the extent that I need to constantly concentrate on it. Truth to tell, this feeling tired is just an ongoing annoying state, a vague recognition that I don't feel as peppy as I used to.

Furthermore, I never saw a connection between my loud snoring and my flagging energy. What did I know? The snoring was deafening, I was told. Traveling with my children or friends had yielded unanimous comments to the effect that no one could sleep at all with me snoring in the next bed. Gradually I learned to book a separate room, at unwanted expense. This was my concession, even though the snoring never bothered me I did know what it probably sounded like; for years my mother had kept me awake with her helicopter-like noises at night.

Then three years ago, on one of our annual quick trips around Oregon, my friend Jan gave me a helpful comment about the previous noisy night. Having shared a room with me (I suspected that she hadn't slept much), she asked me if I knew I had sleep apnea. Well, no, I didn't know that, and why did she think so. She described my halting breathing pattern during the night. I'm so lucky to know a person like Jan -- she's wise about many things in this life. My husband, who shares a bed with me, had always told me he wasn't bothered by the noise I made at night; Jan was the first person to have analyzed my sleep in a way that would actually help.