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earning your business everyday
New & used vehicles with a full line service & parts dept. Call 765-932-2447 or 866-576-7874 or visit us on the web for more info.

open 7 days! dine-in or carry-out
Open for breakfast at 6 a.m., Mon-Sat. Steak special Fri-Sat. Daily homemade meal specials. 711 N. Main Street in Carthage. 765-565-6078

the caring professionals
Two locations: 7355 S. State Road 109, Knightstown (765-345-7400) and 3406 S. Memorial Dr. in New Castle (765-529-7100)

Call 765-345-5171 for info/quote.

body repair experts
Call 765-345-5380 for info/quote or visit us at 221 W. Main Street

parts for mowers
Call 317-462-1323 or visit us on the web for more info

a family tradition since 1898
Funeral services, monument sales. 130 S. Main Street in Wilkinson. Call 765-781-2435.

Mike Redmond Column

Please refer to the Mike Redmond Column main page for columns published in other issues.
Mike can be contacted via e-mail at




 Amid Snores, Sleep Test Bores

The doctor said I wasn’t getting enough rest, so she sent me over to the stress center for a sleep test.

I flunked.

This pretty much sums up the way things have gone for me lately. We get down to that most basic of human endeavors, sleep, and guess what? I’m doing it wrong. I flunked sleep.

I still think the test itself is designed to skew the results so the patient always loses. Here’s what I mean:

You go off in the evening, at a time when you are customarily in front of your TV with your shoes off, to a clinic. You take an overnight bag and, if you like, your favorite pillow or blanket. Because of the hour and what you are carrying, you neighbors, peeping through the windows as you trudge to your car, probably think you have been kicked out of the house.

Once you get to the clinic, they take you to your “hotel-like” room. I suppose that’s an accurate description if the only thing you have to compare it to is a hospital room. Or a cave. If you stay in real hotels, however, the room is hotel-like in the same sense that a chimpanzee is human-like: Yes, they might share some characteristics but you wouldn’t want the chimp to do your taxes, and you wouldn’t choose this place for a weekend getaway.

The technicians begin preparing you for your test by rigging you up with wires. They attach them to your legs. They attach them to your torso. They attach them to your neck. They attach them to your face. They attach them to your head. By the time they get done with all that attaching, you look like you were standing too close when the radio threw up.

Then they put a gizmo on your face that connects, via a long hose, to a CPAP machine, a contraption that shoots air into your nose so you don’t sleep apnea yourself into the next life. Now you look like you were standing too close when the radio threw up while the vacuum cleaner tried to strangle you.

And then, when you are all wired up and inflated, feeling trussed and claustrophobic, in a strange place with strange people fussing around, they turn out the lights and tell you to go to sleep. Nighty-nite.

Yeah, right. You’re lying there with five miles of wire wrapped around you and scuba gear on your face and they expect you to sleep?

So you see what happens next: You have the worst night’s sleep of your life. They record the results and then tell the doctor you failed the test. Of course you did. They stacked the deck.

I think I should get a makeup exam. After all, when you flunked tests in school – okay, when I flunked tests in school – the nice teachers would always help you find a way to dig out. And since I usually flunked tests when I was sleeping in class, shouldn’t I get another test when I flunk sleep?

I’ll even put up with the wires and vacuum cleaner hose. I will, however, insist on one change: I want a room in a real hotel. With room service. And then I want an accountant to see if I can write this off on my taxes. A real accountant, mind you. The chimp cost me a fortune last year.




© 2011 Mike Redmond. All Rights Reserved.