For the past two nights, I've gone to bed sporting assorted gizmos to determine if I have sleep apnea. I have worn a band around my chest, a tube under my nose with two pointy bits up my nostrils, a heart-rate clamp on my pinky finger and a monitor hanging around my neck. And all the wires that connect each thing to the monitor. Lots of wires.
I'm too sexy for my bed.
Needless to say it hasn't been the funnest weekend of my life in the sleep department, but I did manage six or seven hours sleep each night. The data collected will determine if I have sleep apnea. If I do, I will be fitted with a Hannibal Lecter style breathing apparatus.
To quote my brother-in-law (who wears one himself) "You'll never get laid again."
Wouldn't it have been easier to have written two signs that say "yes" and "no" and put them in the octopus tank. He would know if I have sleep apnea. So much simpler.