Circadian rhythms, or my clock is broken

 

Cold salmon supper

What to have on Saturday night when you’re home alone for dinner: cold canned salmon with seasoned crème fraiche (lemon and horseradish), cherry tomatoes, and baby cucumbers. I would have added an avocado but I let it sit too long and it went bad. You could add a hard boiled egg to it, or maybe some green beans. I just used what I had. This was my mom’s favorite summertime supper, though now I’m trying to remember if she served it to Dad or saved it for nights when he wasn’t home. Daddy was an Anglophile, strictly a beef (or lamb) and potatoes man. Fish not so much.

I must admit I had a chance to go to Joe T.’s for dinner tonight. Jordan and Christian were going with two couples I’m fond of (both boys she went to school with from middle school on—it tickles me that their social life is still so filled with Jordan’s high school friends). At any rate, I debated: if I have an opportunity to go out and don’t take it, I feel guilty for not putting forth the effort, for daily becoming more reclusive in my cottage. On the other hand, I’ve just been to Joe T.’s and while a bean chalupa and sitting on the patio sounded good, I didn’t want to have to wash my hair, dress in real clothes, get there and wish I was at home. And I had lots to do on my desk.

Besides, my Circadian rhythms are out of whack. Just in case you don’t know, those are the rhythms that regulate daily life. Think of them as your internal clock, although this twenty-four hour cycle is something we share with plants and animals. For humans, we think of this clock in terms of sleep. The average adult needs seven to nine hours of sleep a night, and some authorities says it is most important to get sleep between ten at night and two in the morning.

The most common circadian rhythm disorder is delayed sleep/wake. If you go to bed later than you are used to, you may find it hard to wake up in the morning. In a reverse pattern, you may fall asleep early, like six p.m., and wake at two in the morning. Your sleep patterns are mostly governed by light and dark but also by melatonin in your system and by social behavior and physical activity. Circadian rhythm disorders may be caused by changes in your shift at work, brain injury, even jet lag.

What I’ve noticed in myself lately is a tendency to work late into the night—often getting to bed just before midnight—and sleep later in the morning. That’s a complete reversal for me, because I was always up early and usually asleep by ten. Even as a teen, when all my friends were sleeping till noon, I was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at eight in the morning. Now, I thought the change was due to aging, but as I read about circadian rhythms, it may be due to a lack of physical activity. Dependent on a walker, I don’t get much exercise, and exercise is one of the clues by which your internal clock cues your body.

I think there’s another factor though—and it’s my dog. Last night, Sophie had to go out at three and again at four (she too is aging). I usually don’t have any trouble going back to sleep after these interruptions or if I wake myself to go to the bathroom. But they do interrupt my sleep pattern. And this morning I had to get up at six-thirty and feed Sophie, so she could have her insulin shot at seven when the dogsitter came. (Explanation: we have decided for various reasons that I will not give her a shot—the reasons range from the tremor in my left hand to letting her associate me with a needle; as it is, she is shunning me right now because I put drops in her ears, and you know how painful that is—NOT). So I was up from 6:30 until about 7:15, but with the distinct feeling that I hadn’t gotten my sleep out. So I went back to sleep until about 8:45. But all day I still felt that lack of sleep (did the overcast day have anything to do with it?). By noon, I was nearly asleep at my desk, but when I went to nap at two, I wasn’t sleepy. Go figure!

This is a daily problem for me, because Sophie usually wakes me at seven for her breakfast and to go outside, and I almost always feel that I haven’t gotten my sleep out. I usually go back to bed for what some call second sleep, and I find myself really anticipating that bit of deep sleep.

The study of circadian rhythms is called chronobiology. I’m convinced, however, that those who study these rhythms and disorders have not met Sophie nor taken her determination into account.

I bet fireworks can also cause disruption. Don’t forget to keep your pets—and any sensitive friends or family—safe during the holiday weekend. Happy Fourth!

Circadian rhythms out of whack

 

Sophie daytime sleeper,
nighttime playgirl.

Sophie and I have many disagreements, but the latest is about to drive me bananas. Our circadian rhythms, those cycles by which our body tells us when to eat and sleep, are definitely not in agreement, and as a result bedtime around here bears a lot of resemblance to trying to get a reluctant toddler to bed and asleep. It’s gotten worse since I’ve been under the weather.

Sophie likes to play outside at night. As a helicopter dog owner, I will not go to bed and leave her in the back year without supervision. My kids think I’m imagining things, but I know that dog theft, though not common, does happen. So if she’s outside, I’m up. Ideally, that would mean that if I’m ready for bed, she’s inside. But it doesn’t work that way.

Two nights ago, she “had” to go out twice after I closed down the cottage and got in bed. How do you question a dog who acts desperate, even though she was just our twenty minutes earlier? What I think happened was that coughing spells on my part disturbed her sleep. Her reaction was not, “Mom doesn’t feel well. I’ll comfort her.” No, it was more along the lines of, “What an awful noise. I believe I’d like to go outside now.” Being dragged out of bed twice is bad enough but at least then she came right away when I offered a treat.

Last night, we started the bedtime process at ten-thirty. I finally went to sleep at one-thirty. Some of that was again my fault—a bathroom trip, a coughing spell, etc. But a little before one, she “had” to go out. Once her business was done, she proceeded to lie on the deck, stare at me (insolently, I swear), and ignore my offers of a treat, which usually brings her scrambling. It’s no wonder I slept till almost nine-thirty this morning. Still that sleep was broken by feeding her at five and letting her out at seven, when she again decided she preferred lying on the deck and watching me flip out.

And mostly she sleeps soundly all morning, while I’m up and working. We’ll work this out, and it may get better once this cold goes away. Dogs are sensitive to the way we feel, but this is not the reaction I expected from this spoiled girl.

Meanwhile, I’ve disrupted my own rhythms, mostly out of sheer determination. Morning has always been my best time. I used to say if it doesn’t get written by about two in the afternoon, it doesn’t get written that day. But now, for the days when I kept longing to go back to bed, I’d get going for the second or third try about four in the afternoon, determined to meet my word goal for that day. I’m so close to the end of something that will be titled Irene Deep in Texas Trouble that I can’t bear to miss a day of work. My goal is to finish the first draft by Christmas. So far, I’m okay with this schedule, which usually finds me having completed my day’s chores by ten o’clock. But then it’s time to start the bedtime ritual again!

This afternoon I watched in fascination as it rained leaves. There seemed only a slight, occasional breeze, but the leaves fell one after the other all over the yard. One of the two driveway oaks which are such a problem—growing into the driveway—is the most beautiful yellow gold! The one behind it, closer to me, is the deep red that has blanketed the yard.

Now, as I write, I hear thunder rumbling. That may well change Sophie’s nighttime agenda because she prefers to be inside and next to me when it thunders. We’ve had enough rain and damp leaves on the patio that Jordan thinks she sees mold out there. Not sure what to do about that.

Happy dreary, rainy Saturday night.