Snoring and Restless Legs Syndrome

You might not think it to look at me, but I can snore the paint right off a wall. My wife sometimes asks me if I had been dreaming I was Harley Davidson because that’s exactly what I sounded like. I called her on it, but she recorded me with her phone. She was absolutely right. If I had been with Joshua when he fought the battle of Jericho, my snoring would have made the walls come-a-tumbling down. Fortunately, I’ve been able to battle my snoring with weight loss, side sleeping, and chronic insomnia. 

Restless legs syndrome, sometimes called the jimmy legs, is another story. RLS, as it is known by enthusiasts, is a nervous system disorder that causes an overpowering urge to move your legs. I must have a rare case because I don’t just have the urge to move my legs, my legs kick and move all by themselves. It’s totally involuntary. Some nights, it’s been so bad that I’ve stayed awake for hours on the sofa so I wouldn’t wake my wife with my incessant kicking and jerking. 

I do periodically take prescription medication for my restless legs syndrome. Stretching and warm baths before bed seem to help as well. As home remedies, a few friends have suggested I drink tonic water and apple cider vinegar, rub coconut oil on my feet and legs, fill the air with muscle relaxant lavender oil, and squirt mustard on my toes. One person even suggested I cut out caffeine and screen time before bed. How ridiculous.  

I have to admit, my wife and I do sleep better when I’m off of caffeine and when my stress level is lower. Since that is often not an option, I’m thinking of buying a bed, a really wide one where I can kick all night and my wife will never feel it (as long as I’m not kicking her). I think I’ll do that. I’m really tired of cleaning mustard off the sheets every morning.

*Image courtesy of Arzu Cengiz and Unsplash

Sleep Disorders

I’ve recently heard that sleep is more important for health than diet and exercise. If that’s true, then I’m in trouble. I’ve had sleep issues since I was a child.

Once, when I was eight years old, I woke up outside sitting in a lawn chair. The lights were out, the door was locked and my family was asleep. 

That’s pretty scary for a kid, not to mention incredibly embarrassing to be locked outside in race car pajamas. Fortunately, everyone else in the community, state, and nation, was fast asleep, indoors, in bed, where I wanted to be. 

I must have circled our house a dozen times trying to figure out what to do. At first I thought, maybe I’ll just wait outside until morning. But then I started picturing Mr. Snuffleupagus from Sesame Street rounding the corner of the house. Needless to say, I finally mustered the courage to knock on my parent’s window. 

The next day, my dad installed a special lock on the top of the door. It kept me from going outside at night, but I continued to walk and talk in my sleep until I went to college. I was pretty sure I was over it, but my college roommates were quick to inform me of how wrong I was. One roommate said that while I was asleep, I used to call out the last names of girls I had dated. That was embarrassing, mostly because he and I were interested in some of the same girls. I had dated one or two of them without his knowledge. You can imagine how strange it was for him in the middle of the night when I cried out their last names, waking him up and breaking his heart at the same time while I continued to sleep.

Another roommate was forced to yell at me one night until I woke up. He had good reason because, in my sleep, I had started disassembling our bunk beds. I was standing at the foot of the bed, pushing up on one end of the top bunk. I had already removed one of the slats and was working on the other when I woke up. This would usually not be a problem, but my roommate was still in the top bunk. When I came to consciousness and acknowledged his cries, I shook my head, reassembled the bed frame, crawled back into my bottom bunk, and covered my head with the blanket.

After a few minutes of loud silence, my roommate, who I’m sure was contemplating my mental stability, finally asked, “What the heck were you doing?” 

Embarrassed, I rolled over and mumbled, “There’s very little point in me trying to explain.” 

It should come as no surprise, he left college after that semester. I thought I was finally finished freaking people out with my sleep disorders. 

But then I got married. 

One night, after three weeks of wedded bliss, I sat up straight in bed and screamed, “We’ve got to support the missionaries!” before collapsing back to my pillow. My poor wife managed to squeak out, “Ok.” Only I didn’t hear her because I was sound asleep. She, however, spent the rest of the night fully awake, wondering if she married a psycho.

Now, after almost three decades of wedded bliss, I’m proud to say I finally stopped walking and talking in my sleep (at least to my knowledge). I’ve traded them both for two other disorders, snoring and restless legs syndrome.

*Image courtesy of Bekah Russom and Unsplash