Some people might think from the title this post is about God. It isn't. It's about sleeping and being studied while you sleep. Okay, so maybe it is kind of about God, in a round about sort of way.)

My son was referred to a sleep center by his doctor recently. He is concerned Kyle might have sleep apnea.When the center called to schedule the appointment they spoke with Jon. They explained to him that because Kyle was under 18 one of his parents would have to stay the night with him at the sleep center. Jon was kind enough to schedule the study on his own birthday. (I'm sure this was purposeful, as he knew I wouldn't make him sleep at a sleep center on his birthday.)

Kyle and I arrived at the center on Friday evening and had to fill out some forms before Kyle was all "hooked up." The room looked like a hotel room with the exception of the myriad of electrical wires stacked in neat piles on the bed.

I had been dreading the study for days. What if I snored or drooled or walked in my sleep or said something embarrassing in my sleep? There were cameras pointing at the bed, but not in the living room area where I was to sleep on  a fold out couch. (I use the word sleep very loosely here.) I was starting to feel a little more comfortable after the technician explained he would monitor Kyle from another room to keep track of his breathing patterns etc. (In my head I had imagined a room with a two-way mirror -- like in all the homicide TV shows -- where the technician and several other observers would sit and watch all night long thinking they had fooled us into believing it was really just a mirror and not a window.)

It wasn't until right before the technician left the room that I began to panic all over again. His exact words: "If you need anything just say 'Mark, I need you.' I'll be listening to the room all night."

Seriously? Listening all night? Th room was wired for sound? Does this mean he had been listening while Kyle and I were discussing his "too young to be a doctor" look and how I was sure to embarrass myself when the lights went out and they discovered I probably have a sleep disorder too?

When it was all said and done it wasn't too bad. Kyle had me take a picture of his head once he was hooked up so he could show it to his friends and say, "Those wires were the only thing keeping me alive." What can I say?  Kyle is weird, and he takes after his dad.