But now that I could measure their effect on my sleep, I could see that they mattered. Using these devices made me more aware of indulgences before bed - such as bad TV - whose effects I hadn’t noticed before. In the end, I’m not sure whether most of these improvements arose because of the direct influence of the gadgets or because they gave me good data to act on myself. REM - that mysterious dream-filled state we share with other mammals and with birds - usually happens after, ideally accounting for 25 percent of total sleep time.) (Deep sleep typically occurs in the first half of the night. By the end of the review, I was sleeping a little more each night, and the data showed that the crucial stages of deep sleep and REM had lengthened slightly. I tested each device for two weeks and also spent a few days using all of them at once, to compare the data they collected. It probably tracked my heart rate and other metrics better than the others, and offered the most sleep-improving interventions of them all. As for the strange crown, the Dreem, it has a lot of appeal, too. The Eight Sleep Tracker had some strong points, including the fact that it disappears to the user. They literally get inside your head to manipulate the sleep stages.Īmong the three new devices that I tried, SleepScore Max won for ease of use. But this wave of newer trackers promises something radical - to not only gather data, but to actively monkey with your sleep to improve it. I have tried Fitbits and other wearable trackers, but they don’t capture very accurate data about sleep, and they don’t offer solutions to the problems they help you spot. “Clean sheets every three days and a warm cup of tea.” Yes? YES? “And then just a chip, just a little corner, of a Darvon.” Ugh, why do I even start these conversations?). I’ve done everything short of the advice of my mother-in-law (“I draw a warm bath.” Yes? “I get in bed with the dogs all around me.” OK. I feel like I’ve exhausted every variable - sleeping alone in the guest room, sleeping cold, exercise, meditation. Over the years, no formula has guaranteed sleep. I have lots on my mind at night - busy career, catastrophic debt, thriving teenagers, obnoxious teenagers, beautiful but derelict house whose major systems seem to self-destruct by the day. Odd as these electronic interventions sound, their lure was irresistible. And then there was the rubber crown on my head that delivered nonsense words into my skull via bone conduction. Other nights, a pad under the sheets cooked me alive. Some nights, radio beams rained down on my chest while I slumbered.
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