When was the Last Time

Dear Reader, you spent the day picking dried glue from your scalp and hair?

Just in the event that you are prompted to now ask me: "Why ever would you think to make this odd inquiry?! "  I'll respond with the proper answer:   
"Well, since you asked, I'll not only tell you, but will also show you, my dear!"

It was officially called a sleep study.
A.  Conducted at an official sleep lab.
B.  Ordered by an (official, though it seems unnecessary to mention it) physician.
C.  Ordered due to my health event of a few weeks back (officially called a seizure).
D.  The attending woman employed by the sleep lab told me she'd be using (officially approved) glue at spots on my head.
    d1. "I'm sorry," she apologized.  "This won't be very pleasant.  I have to sort of scratch your head.  The glue doesn't smell very good.  There are 34 spots where I must attach wires." 
    d2.  "You're going to be picking this glue out of your hair all day tomorrow," she also explained.

So, there you have it, Reader Dear!
Here are additional details (which, you'll notice, I am not leaving you to pick out of your own imagination.  Oh, goodness, no. As I said, I've got photos!)

Be at the facility by 8:30 p.m. were the instructions. The sleep study will be completed, and all attachments and wires removed, at 5:30 a.m. (gasp!)


The HM delivered me to the facility promptly at 8:30 p.m.

"This is exceedingly weird," I had expressed to him as we made our way there.  Night had arrived, and it was dark, but still hours away from my usual going-to-sleep time.  I had packed a small bag with my pajamas, toiletries, and reading material, as suggested.  I carried my pillow.

The ground floor of LG Health Kissel Hill houses Urgent Care.  In the lobby, the place seemed deserted except for the wailing of an infant from somewhere inside Urgent Care.  I studied the signs, eventually found an elevator, and went to the second floor.  All hallways were empty of other humans and exceedingly quiet, doors closed.

Ultimately, of course, I found the Sleep Lab.  It was populated by two staffers.  Again, it was exceedingly quiet.
"Am I the only one here?" I asked.
"No, there are three others," I was told.  " You are the last to arrive."
Then I was shown to a room:

I studied it curiously as I deposited my bags and pillow on the bed.
"Hmm," I mused, " it's like a tiny motel room without the frills, and with a surveillance camera and a pile of equipment tucked away behind the headboard of the bed."

There was an attached private bathroom with a towel and washcloth and small walk-in shower.  Additionally, there was a smart TV and wi-fi service.

I found it slightly amusing, and quite acceptable.


 
"I'll be taking care of you," said Diane, my attendant.  "First thing I'll do is attach the wires.  Then you can watch TV, or read, or do whatever you wish until you are ready to go to sleep."

"Do I need to notify you when I am ready to nod off?" I asked.

"Oh, no," she laughed.  "We'll know!"

Oh, yes, of course--the camera and the wires!

Had yet to remove glasses before nodding off

Go ahead and go to sleep, Reader Dear.  When you wake up, I"ll continue the story...

or whenever I've finished picking dried glue from my scalp and hair, whichever comes first.