An insomniac’s dream vacation
When I peer out the window on our descent into Tucson, Ariz., the mountains look like slumbering bodies under blankets of brown earth, and I feel bitter longing. Must be nice to sleep, I think.
My husband and I have insomnia. His came on earlier this year and robs him of sleep for days. Mine has been present for most of my life, lurking and re-appearing here and there, like an alley cat. We’ve tried warm milk, specialty teas, acupuncture, flotation therapy. Our home is a graveyard for fancy pillows and mattresses that we bought in desperation and discarded when we couldn’t sleep on them.
So having exhausted our options, we’ve travelled to Arizona, essentially, to sleep. Canyon Ranch, a luxury health spa resort located on more than 150 acres of desert in Tucson, is one of the few all-inclusive vacation resorts in North America that offer specialized sleep programs run by a team of experts. They consider sleep to be one of the foundations of good health.
“If I’m not talking about sleep, then I’m not talking about well-being and wellness,” Param Dedhia, the ranch’s director of sleep medicine, tells us shortly after our arrival.
The ranch takes sleep seriously. Our room, located in a one-storey unit and decorated in Southwestern style with earth-tone blankets and carpets, comes with noise machines and a pillow menu with options for side, back and stomach sleepers.
Dedhia and his team have put together a program for us designed to enhance restful sleep — restful, restless, we’ll take it in any form — including a consultation with a therapist, a nutritionist and a personal trainer. We’ve previously had sleep studies to rule out sleep apnea, so fortunately we won’t be needing an overnight study at the ranch’s sleep lab at a cost of $2,600 US.
Resort life promotes sleepiness. During the day, we tire ourselves out at workshops and fitness classes, like we’re at summer camp for adults. We perform tai chi and Pilates. We attend cooking classes and do arts and crafts. We swim laps in the pool and get massages. Our bodies become heavier in the dry heat as we walk the grounds, along paths between cacti and flowers, to get to our appointments. Then our minds become primed for slumber with all activities ending at 9 p.m. and the dining room offering its last healthy meals at 8 p.m.
But the first night there, I turn my pyjamas backwards, rolling like a reel, struggling to get comfortable. I keep tossing until the edges of the windows glow with the light of day.
“What the heck?” I ask Karen McIntyre, the ranch’s life management therapist.
She asks about my bedtime ritual. Most nights, I simply collapse into bed at the end of my long day and pass out. Other nights, I flop around like a fish, unable to turn off.
“Your body learned to fall asleep from exhaustion,” she says. “Most of us need to learn to fall asleep to relaxation … but the world that we live in has created this kind of intensity. Sleep is the foundation of health … but everything in our culture encourages us to erode it.”
She suggests I try to usher my brain waves into a more calm state before bed. This means no TV or cellphone screens. This means dim lights and hushed voices. This means clearing my mind of overactive or anxious thoughts.
Try reading a book, taking a warm shower or performing gentle stretches or yoga poses to “trigger diaphragmatic breathing,” she offers.
Whether it’s the meditation or the exercise or the healthy foods or a combination of many factors, on our third night there, my husband and I sleep until our alarm goes off. It feels like a victory, one that we hope to replicate when we’re off the ranch. That would be something — taking the dream home.
“IF I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT SLEEP, THEN I’M NOT TALKING ABOUT WELL-BEING AND WELLNESS.”
PARAM DEDHIA