Oblivion_ stories - By David Foster Wallace Page 0,114

Somnologist’s white Medical or ‘lab’ coat, which most of the other Darling Memorial Sleep Clinic’s staff on duty wore, as well, with laminated and ‘photo-’ Identification cards clipped (or, in A.D.C.’s Systems Dept.’s more familiar argot or parlance, ‘gator clipped’) to the breast pocket. Select members of the Somnologist’s technical staff (or, ‘Sleep team’) conducted our formal ‘Intake interview,’ with the M.D. himself then acting as docent or guide in briefly showing Hope and myself around the Darling Sleep Clinic facility, which appeared to consist of four or more small, self contained ‘Sleep chambers’ which were surrounded on all sides by soundless, clear, thick or ‘Plexi-’glass walls, sophisticated audio- and video recording devices, and neurological monitoring equipment. Dr. Paphian’s office itself was adjoined to the Clinic’s centrally located ‘Nerve-’ or ‘Command center,’ in which professional Somnologists, Neurologists, aides, technicians and attendants could observe the occupants of the different Sleep chambers on a wide variety of ‘Infra-red’ monitors and ‘brain’ wave measurement and display equipment. Every staff and ‘Sleep team’ member also wore white, noiseless shoes with gum or rubber soles, and the insubstantial blankets on each chamber’s bed were also either spotlessly white or else pastel or ‘sky-’ (or, ‘electric-’) blue. Also, the Darling Sleep Clinic’s system of ‘halogen’ based, track- or cove style, overhead lighting was white and completely shadowless (which is to say, no one in the facility appeared to cast any shadow, which, together with the funereal quiet, Hope felt, she said, lent a somewhat ‘dreamy’ or dream-like aspect to the atmosphere of the place) and made everyone appear sallow or ill, as well as its being markedly chilly in the Sleep chamber. The Somnologist explained that relatively cool temperatures conduced to both human sleep and to the complex measurements of brain wave activity which the Clinic’s sophisticated equipment was designed to monitor, explaining that different types and levels of ‘E.E.G.’ (or, ‘brain’) waves corresponded to several unique and distinct different levels or ‘stages’ of wakefulness and sleep, including the popularly known ‘R.E.M.-’ or ‘Paradoxical stage’ in which the voluntary muscles were paralyzed and dreams occurred. Each of the majority of his many keys was encased around the ‘head’ with a rubber or plastic casement, which, I hypothesized, cut down on the overall noise factor of the huge ring of keys when the Somnologist walked or stood holding the keys in his slightly moving palm in a way suggesting heft or the gauging of weight while he spoke, which was evidently his primary ‘nervous’ or unconscious habit. (Later, at the outset of the initial drive back home [before beginning, as was her usual wont, to doze or ‘nod’ against her side’s door], Hope posited that there seemed to her to be something reassuring, trustworthy or [in Hope’s own term] ‘substantial’ about a fellow with this many keys [with myself, for my own part, keeping to myself the fact that my own associations anent the keys were somewhat more janitorial].)

By arrangement, Hope and myself were to attend the Sleep Clinic once per week, on Wednesdays, for a total duration of from four to six weeks, sleeping over-night in the Sleep chamber under close observation. Much of the Intake data collection process concerned Hope and myself’s nocturnal routines or ‘rituals’ surrounding retiring and preparing for sleep (these said ‘rituals’ being both common to and unique or distinctive of most married couples, the Sleep specialist explained), in order that these logistics and practices might be ‘re-created’—with the obvious exception of any physically intimate or sexual routines, the Somnologist inserted, clinically evincing no discernible embarrassment or ‘shyness’ as Hope avoided my glance—as closely as possible on these ‘over-nights,’ as we prepared to sleep under observation. In separate Dressing rooms, we first changed in to light green hospital gowns and disposable slippers, then proceeded in tandem to our assigned Sleep chamber, Hope using one hand to keep the long vertical ‘slit’ or incision or ‘cleft’ at the rear of her gown clenched shut over her bottom. Neither the gowns nor the high intensity lighting were what anyone would term ‘flattering’ or ‘modest’—and Hope, as a woman, later remonstrated to me that she had felt somewhat demeaned or ‘violated’ to be sleeping under thin coverlets with nameless persons observing her through a glass partition. (Frequent remarks or complaints like this were argumentative ‘bait’ to which I refused to respond or engage on the long, return rides home so early the following morning, where I would hurriedly shave, change clothes and prepare for the