The Sleep Lab Picture Story, or: The Time I Sold My Body
To Science
If you attend the University of Colorado, you get an "Official Buff Bulletin"
about once a day. I think I read one way back when I was a freshman, but noticed
that it was just crap, basically. It had notices about meetings of this or that
committee, or a special lecture to be given on campus...things like that. I
didn't read another of them until the Fall of 2005 when, for a reason unknown to
me, I decided to open up the email and see what was inside.
As I read through the email, I saw that there was a notice that the Applied
Physiology research labs were looking for people that regularly got less than
six and a half hours of sleep on weeknights. Now, I'm not necessarily the
most diligent student, and I'm definitely not a party animal, but somehow I
still manage to get only around 6 hours of sleep on most weeknights. Plus,
the ad also mentioned that they were looking for people to get paid to be part
of a sleep lab. I had never done anything like this, plus--let's face
it--who couldn't use a little extra cash now and then?
So, I called the lab and they told me their spiel. I'd need to go
through a series of preliminary tests, such as an EKG, a couple blood tests, and
of course plenty of piss tests to screen for drugs. And I also passed the
phone interview, so evidently I wasn't too crazy to be part of the test.
Finally, in addition to coming into the lab for two 24-hour sessions (during
which I'd be able to do homework or watch movies), I also had to wear a
watch-like device. The wristband would monitor both light and movement,
and it would corroborate the sleep log and phone-ins that I was required to
submit to the lab.
The payoff? A cool $360. I could also get another 60 bucks if I
signed up for an additional test wherein I'd run on a treadmill until I couldn't
run anymore. Of course I signed up...(story continues after picture)
The brave volunteer with his brave cat. It was very hard to convince the people
at the health center to let me leave with the EKG stickers still on my chest,
and they almost wouldn't let me leave the building. I assured them I thought the
whole experiment was pretty hilarious and that I just wanted to take a picture
for my website. You can also see the wrist monitor. I was afraid if I moved too
much or too little it might make my head explode, like in the movie Running
Man. But at least I could tell strangers that my parole officer was making
me wear it.
...So, I began to monitor my sleeping with a journal and twice-daily phone calls
to the sleep lab; once when I woke up, and once when I went to bed. I also had
to record my caffeine intake which, being a graduate student, was pretty high. I
was proud. I also was not allowed to use any sort of drugs or medication,
including ibuprofen, and the regular urine screenings would show evidence of any
such medication. This normally wouldn't be too bad, but I happened to get a
really splitting headache after driving the bus one day. My only recourse was to
come home and put a damp washcloth on my head and lay down. I felt like a
Christian Scientist. But other than that, the lead-up to the lab sessions went
pretty smoothly, and it gave me a conversation point in many a discussion.
After a few weeks, the time came for me to make my first appointment for a
24-hour sleep lab session. The deal was, I'd go in from around 6 p.m. one day
until 6 p.m. the next. In the meantime, I'd have to perform a series of tests on
a computer to measure my attentiveness and alertness. They'd also allow me to
sleep some, but for most of the 24 hours I'd have a bunch of electrodes attached
to my head. They were in turn attached to a little box that I had to carry
around the room like a purse...
I also had to do this a lot, for some reason: chewing on a cotton swab for a
minute or two to get a saliva sample, and then spitting the swab into a plastic
tube for testing.
...The first session started off OK. I did have time to do a bit of reading and
even watched most of a movie. But the reading was two long articles about
Auschwitz I had to read for a German history course, and the movie was
Mississippi Burning. Neither of which contained light subject matter, to say
the least. Plus, the room was very dim to disorient my senses, and the computer
test battery that I had to complete every half hour or so was sort of annoying.
But I was getting paid, and I was feeling good...
Here are the torture instruments laid out for their victim. In retrospect it's
odd to think they glued those cords to my head.
A worker at the lab prepping my head. I'm proud I took this picture myself.
Preparing to crack open my skull to get at my sweet brains...brains!...brains!
...Anyhow, like I said, the tests were kind of annoying, but I was feeling fine
the first evening. They even gave me food and the people that worked in the lab
were personable. They'd come into my little room and chat when things got slow.
Finally, it came time for me to sleep. They had me perform the computer tests
once more, and then they did a series of calibration tests for the wires on my
head. They did this through a speaker in the room, which was connected to the
operator booth in another part of the building. After the calibration tests, the
voice said, "Good Night, Ryan" and the lights went out. The box then began
transmitting data to the control booth about my brainwaves, and probably made me
sterile in the process. But like I said, 360 bucks!...
Here the nodes or electrodes or cords or whatever are almost all glued to my
head.
...The next morning--or what I assume was possibly morning since I wasn't
allowed to have a watch in the room--the lights in the room came on and the
voice over the loudspeaker said "Good Morning, Ryan." An attendant came in and
set me up right away to take yet another battery of computerized tests. I was
still feeling good, but a bit under-rested. But that was sort of the point of
the lab. I did, however, feel a slight headache, and my stomach felt a bit odd,
but nothing seemed too out of the ordinary. Or so I thought.
As the morning and probably afternoon progressed--like I said, I didn't actually
have much of an idea what time it was--I started feeling worse. I suspected that
it could have been something I'd eaten the evening before, or even for breakfast
in the lab that morning. There'd been a rather nasty-tasting piece of Canadian
bacon that I would have normally not eaten, but that I was sort of required to
eat due to the rules of the experiment (they'd had me specially meet with a
nutritionist before the lab visits, and she drew up a by-the-calorie meal plan
for me). But whatever the cause, after a few hours I started feeling like CRAP.
I asked to go to the bathroom, but to do so I needed to carry the little
electrodes purse and wear special goggles that blocked out most light, since the
restrooms were down a corridor that passed an outside window, and I wasn't
allowed to determine the time by looking at the prevailing light outside. So
basically I stumbled down the hall with bed head, a bunch of electrodes glued to
my head, and my Evil Villain Swimming Goggles. To the regular workers in the
building, which houses many CU administrative offices, I probably looked like an
escaped mental patient.
I went to the bathroom and, to make a long story short, threw up. I returned to
the sleep lab and said I didn't feel so hot. They asked if I thought I could
continue, and whether the throwing up might have helped the way I felt. I said
it probably did, so I'd try to keep on keeping on. But about 20 minutes later, I
had to go to the bathroom again to throw up again, and this time it was much
much worse...
(DRAMATIZATION): This is not the actual toilet that I got sick in while at the
sleep lab. I didn't have the presence of mind to bring my camera with me. This
picture is merely a dramatization featuring a toilet from a bathroom in a
Chinese restaurant in Mexico City. I thought it was cool because of the foot
flusher, and I also didn't have a better picture of a toilet.
...Anyways, I got REALLY sick a few times over, and by the end I was kind of
squatting/huddling over the tile floor, hoping for the pain to stop. At that
point I realized that there was a set of dress shoes visible under the wall of
the stall next to mine, and that the owner of the shoes had been there the whole
time I'd been throwing up. After a moment's pause, I said, "Sorry you've got to
be sitting in the stall next to the guy puking--it's gotta be distracting." The
person on the other side just chuckled slightly and replied, "Hey, it's OK,
man...it sounds like you got worse problems than me."
After recovering enough to stand up again, I went back to the lab. I was about
to say I couldn't go on and I didn't care whether I never saw a penny of the
money; I just wanted to go home. But before I could even say that they told me
that I should go home and take care of myself, at least if I was well enough to
make it home. They said that due to the puking the brain box had been out of
range for too long anyhow, so they'd not have a complete set of data. At least
they were really cool about it, which, considering that the food they gave me
could have likely caused the food poisoning, was probably understandable. They
said we'd find a way to reschedule the lab visits in the future, if I so
desired. I thanked them for their understanding, let them unglue the electrodes
from my head using a chemical that made me even more nauseous, and then headed
home.
After getting home, I collapsed in bed. Over the next few hours I periodically
made my way to the bathroom to have a few dry heaves, to try to drink a sip of
water, and to sit in the corner whimpering quietly.
Due to a long weekend trip that took me out of town, I was unable to reschedule
the lab visits, and I dropped myself from the experiment in general. I reasoned
that at least it'd been a new experience, and that it'd probably make an
interesting story. Then around a month later, out of the blue, I received a
check in the mail from the sleep lab for $120!
It was justification, vindication, and a couple of trips to the grocery store
all rolled into one nice, convenient slip of paper. And now I hear that you can
make decent money by donating plasma...