I met a guy in pharmaceuticals who told me about a bunch of cool breakthroughs in sleep meds: mainly, we may be on the brink of a new Wegovy, but in this case it’s a drug to cure narcolepsy. I suggested the two things are not quite the same, given that obesity is a global epidemic and narcolepsy is fairly rare. He countered that the way the drug works might also have applications for insomnia; similar to the Post-it note having been invented by someone trying to create the world’s strongest glue.
Anyway, in the course of this, I discovered the test for type 1 narcolepsy, which is that you’re put in a room with zero stimulation – nothing to read, no one to chat to, perfect silence, perfect temperature – and timed on how long it takes you to fall asleep. If it’s under eight minutes, you’re narcoleptic. But the average, for a person with no complaints in that area at all, is 22 minutes. I was completely incredulous. This is a grip on consciousness more or less the same as a house cat. Bored? Go to sleep. Even a dog will have a quick look for something to eat first.
Obviously I’ve spread this troubling statistic all over town, and most people have follow-ups, such as: what kind of a room? What colour is the room? Is there a chair in it, and is it comfy? Never mind the chair, what kind of hoodlum can fall asleep without a bed?
I also discovered cataplexy, which can involve falling asleep after strong emotions, not necessarily bad ones (laughing too hard is a trigger), and strongly recognised it. Sometimes I go to sleep on the tube just because I’m pleased the tube has arrived.
In short, science has delivered a fresh wonder. It’s only because we find each other so interesting that any of us are awake at all.
