For several years in a row, I was living every day suffering from severe sleep deprivation. I was not merely homeless, but living on the streets, and I became really intent on walking around all night, rather than trespass or sit down for a rest, in someplace where I didn't belong. Or I would sit in the IHOP, and drink 2 pots of coffee and stare, zombie-like, until the Sun rose. So I lost a lot of sleep and I dozed whenever possible, and not in a bed, but often seated at a table, with my arms folded, and my face buried in those folded arms, while others made chit-chat and the music played around me.

Well, I'd get into an enclosed space with lots of people, and I'd begin to pass out. It happened a lot in church. We'd be singing and standing and sitting and kneeling, and I'd be just ready to conk out and go to sleep. And I would do crazy things like, lunging for the thermostat because it felt so warm and close in there. I thought everyone was feeling the same stale, stuffy air as I was. I don't know. It would also happen in the coffeehouses, but sleep was guaranteed to overcome me during liturgies.

But I came to believe that it was a CO2 buildup sort of situation. With a lot of human bodies in a closed space, and we were all vocalizing for an hour or so, and it was winter so perhaps the heat was on, or the air conditioning was turned off. And so CO2 buildups were the most likely thing.

Once I was housed, and able to catch up on sleep, it doesn't happen anymore. I did complain to my doctor and I asked him if I may have COPD. He insisted that I breathed better than he did. He brought in two young Medical Assistant ladies to do this breathing exercise so that he could prove there's nothing wrong with me. Of course we didn't get to that point of discussing sleep deprivation, because you can't medicate that. Well, a psychiatrist could try, with extra-drowsy meds. And they did try. I resented that.