Narcolepsy and the Roly-Poly

Narcolepsy turns my husband into a roly-poly.

You know what a roly-poly is, right? We have tons of them in our garden. They meander along, perfectly content until you touch them. Then they immediately curl up, hiding themselves away until the perceived danger has passed and they can get back to their roly-poly business.

For my husband, cataplexy - narcolepsy's evil twin - is the worst during times of emotional stress. If you aren't sure what that means, think of the most stressful moments of your day - good stress or bad - and imagine collapsing into a skin puddle every time you react. Whether it's laughter, anger, or tears, you lose muscle tone and slide gently to the floor... hopefully. Most of the time, my husband ends up falling in an ungainly heap that looks fairly painful. It's worse than fainting because the sufferer is still awake! My husband can hear everything when he suffers a cataplectic attack - he just can't do anything about it. So maybe it would be more accurate to say that cataplexy turns my husband into a roly-poly.

Understandably, he is usually very reluctant to get emotional. While any emotion can make my husband get physically weak, the higher the emotional strain, the weaker he gets. But he isn't completely impassive. He’s just a lot more reserved than I think he would be without the constant fear of (literally) falling on his face. This emotional reluctance means that my husband avoids confrontations of any kind like the plague. Confrontations of any kind, including possibly difficult discussions with his wife, me. Now my definition of difficult and his version of difficult are vastly different. I don't think it's always that hard to review our budget or talk about our goals. My husband however, finds those conversations awfully tough. Sometimes he finds them impossible. That's when he becomes a roly-poly and hides until the danger - our difficult conversation - has passed.

Roly-polys hide by curling into a ball. My husband hides by sleeping.

I used to resent my husband's seeming indifference and avoidance of the more tedious aspects of marriage and general grown-up stuff. After his diagnosis, though, I am working to understand that he wants to have those harder conversations... but a lot of times he just can't do it. And the more impatient I act toward him at those times, the guiltier he feels about his inability to participate. The guiltier he feels, the more tired he becomes...

It's amazing to see the change in him, actually. He starts out like a normal person, listening, aware, wide-eyed. But as our conversation continues, his eyes droop dramatically, his face begins to go slack, and within five minutes, he is quite obviously very, very sleepy. He may try to hold out for a little longer, insisting that we continue, but not only is his obvious exhaustion a huge distraction, the conversation becomes more and more one sided. His responses take forever, and then sometimes they don't even make sense. His mood changes (would you be happy talking about your bills while you were falling asleep?) as does mine (frustration, mostly), and just a few minutes after the conversation begins, it's over. When he wakes, my husband is always both apologetic and embarrassed, but I'm quick to apologize too. My impatience isn't directed toward him. It's directed at this exasperating disease.

As I mentioned in a previous post, until we find a better solution, I’ll do my best to keep a firm grasp of the reigns... without making my husband feel guilty for needing me to.

How to Have a Conversation With a Narcoleptic

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It sounds like the opening to a really good joke, doesn't it?

If you don't already know this, a person with narcolepsy is often tired and sleepy. But that's not all. They often suffer from problems with concentration, short-term memory loss, irritability, and mental confusion. Imagine having all of that going on and try to hold a normal conversation.

It ain't easy.

With my husband, I've learned to repeat things. A lot. It's not that he isn't listening or didn't hear me. It's just that it didn't quite register. Imagine his mind is a sleepy, distracted person trying desperately to play ping-pong. If I fire the ball at him, he definitely won't hit it, but if I lob it gently over and over, eventually he'll reach out at just the right moment and voila! He gets it.

Then there are the other times.

Other conversations are just the opposite. By nature, I'm a fast talker. No, I'm not a swindler - I just speak really quickly. Over the years I've learned to slow down and let people get in a word every now and then, but I never have a problem spitting something out. Every now and then though, my narcoleptic husband out-talks me. Excited and eager to share his thoughts, he impatiently trips over his own words in a rush to get them all out there. It's like verbal ping-pong, it's so fun talking to him in that mode. Back and forth we bounce ideas off of one another, laugh at impromptu jokes, and frequently apologize saying, "I'm sorry, go ahead," when one of us gets too excited and interrupts the other.

It's weird, but that's narcolepsy.

Of course I prefer the times when my husband is more articulate and engaged in the conversation. I fight impatience when he has to speak slowly, when there are lengthy pauses while he fights to remember what he was saying, dead silences as he contemplates an answer to my easy question. At those times, I know he's just a prisoner. Narcolepsy is holding his brain hostage once again.

I still haven't figured out the cost of the ransom.

So for those who genuinely want to know how to talk to their friend, co-worker, or loved one with narcolepsy, the answer is simple: be patient. If they stumble, forget, or ask you to repeat, just be patient and wait for them to hit the ball. They may speak slowly this time 'round, but the next time, you may just need to get your paddle ready.

*For a very insightful view of how a person with narcolepsy sometimes feels trying to converse with people, read this blog post from Confessions of a Narcoleptic.

Falling Asleep In Public

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I remember the first time my husband fell asleep in public.

We were at a talk, nicely dressed, surrounded by other nicely dressed people. It wasn't an enormous crowd; but it was a roomful - a little over 100. While taking notes, I was distracted, but when I gave my hand a rest, I noticed my husband's chin was on his chest. His eyes were open - barely - but he looked like he was in some sort of stupor. I gave him what I hoped was an unnoticeable nudge, which only slightly helped. I kept a close eye on him after that. Sure enough, just a couple of minutes later, his head was drooping again. Then he dropped a book. When he nearly fell out of his chair, I leaned over and hissed, "Why don't you go get some water?"

I didn't really hear the rest of the talk. Instead, I was hearing an angry litany of questions in my head.

Why are you so tired? You got more sleep than I did last night!
This is so interesting! Why aren't you interested in this?
How could you embarrass me like that?
When you started feeling sleepy, why didn't you just get up and go do something?!!!

Of all the inconsiderate, selfish, embarrassing... how could he have done that... to ME? I hate to admit it now, but I really was mortified.

Long after that talk, the narcolepsy diagnosis, and a few years of marriage, we had a conversation in which I felt a sincere apology was long overdue.

An apology from me.

See, Narcoleptics don't get to pick and choose when they're going to get tired, have a sleep attack, or lose concentration. That's why it's called narcolepsy! My husband never intended to fall asleep at that talk or any other public event. He can't always get up and get some water because... he's falling asleep. He holds a book in his hand to try to keep himself awake. Most importantly, he doesn't mean to embarrass me - or himself. That's right. It's not about me - it's about how annoyed and embarrassed he must feel as the one actually falling asleep in the middle of a super loud movie, or a concert, or anything else that he would like to watch but can't.

Long gone are the days when I would see someone fall asleep at a public event and "tsk" under my breath. Yep, I was one of those people. Now when I see someone who can't stay awake, my only thought is if anyone else notices, they'll give the sleeper the benefit of the doubt.

We actually still attend talks every week. I still take notes, and my husband still falls asleep sometimes. It's OK though. The notes help me to tell him what he missed.