Insomnia; and Other Disorders of Sleep

by Henry M. Lyman

That the depth of sleep is exceedingly variable is evident in the experience of every one. A German physiologist[17] has made a rough estimate of the soundness of sleep by comparing the loudness of the noises necessary to wake the subject of experiment at regular intervals during the course of the night. He arranged a gong with a pendulum attachment, and noted the length of the stroke which produced a sound sufficiently loud to awaken the patient. In this way the different degrees of intensity of the awakening noise could be calculated, and the corresponding depth of sleep could be estimated. It was thus concluded that the depth of sleep increases rapidly during the first hour, at the end of which time it has reached its maximum. During the next half hour it diminishes as rapidly as it had increased in the first half hour. During the next hour it still further diminishes, almost as much as it increased during the second half hour. The remaining ten half hours of the experiment were occupied by a comparatively light and gradually diminishing slumber, until the vanishing point of sleep was reached at the expiration of eight hours from its commencement. This observation corresponds with the general opinion that sleep is deepest in the early part of the night. For the same reason dreams and wakefulness are most frequent during the early watches of the morning.

When considering the causes of sleep it is needful to exclude from view those artificial varieties of sleep that are produced by the various narcotic drugs, as well as the counterfeits of sleep which result from diseased conditions of the body. It is comparatively easy to frame hypotheses in explanation of such interruptions of our conscious life; but, when we attempt to formulate a theory which shall satisfactorily account for the occurrence of natural sleep in healthy animals, the task becomes exceedingly difficult.

First among the causes of sleep may be reckoned the alternation of day and night. With the disappearance of sunlight all nature sinks into a condition of repose.

“The night brings sleep
To the greenwoods deep,
To the bird of the woods its nest;
To care soft hours,
To life new powers,
To the sick and the weary—rest!”

In this tendency to nightly inaction man shares with all other living creatures. His body thus testifies to the intimacy of its relations with all portions of the solar system. Originated in the tropical regions of the earth, where day and night are nearly equal, we find in all parts of the world the same hereditary need of a period of rest, nearly coincident with the duration of the shorter nights of the tropical year. Had the birth-place of primeval man been situated within the Arctic circle, it is probable that his hours of sleep might have differed considerably from the number now needed by the average individual. So powerful are the necessities thus dependent upon the harmony between our organization and the movements of the earth, that if the habit be formed of sleeping at other hours than those which are usually devoted to that purpose, the full complement of sleep is still needful to satisfy the demand for rest.

Prominent among the causes which predispose to sleep at night is the cessation of a majority of the sensations that are continually pouring in upon the brain during the period of daylight. Hence the necessity for seclusion in darkened rooms, from which the noises of the daytime are shut out, if one would sleep during the long days of the arctic summer, or if one would enjoy a midday nap at any season of the year. The close dependence of wakefulness upon the constant activity of the organs of sensation, is well illustrated by a case related in Hermann’s Handbuch der Physiologie, Vol. II, Part 2, p. 295. A young man had been reduced by disease to such a condition of general anæsthesia that the right eye and the left ear were the only remaining paths of sensation between his brain and the external world. Whenever the sound eye and ear were bandaged so as to cut off all communication with the brain, the patient invariably fell asleep in the course of two or three minutes after the interruption of sensation. In like manner, some people, even in perfect health, are able to sleep at any time by simply lying down and closing the eyes. Such persons, however, are not often very highly gifted in the intellectual sphere. They generally belong to a class of men whose lives are laborious and liable to great irregularity and fatigue. Such people labor in the open air, where every organ of sense is in a state of continual excitement. As soon, therefore, as they can find a quiet corner from which the commotion of the elements is excluded, it is only necessary to close the eyes—the principal avenue of communication with the outside world—and sleep begins at once. This is especially true if severe bodily exertion has preceded the opportunity for repose.

Fatigue of any sort is one of the most energetic causes of sleep. The impossibility of long sustained exertion is a fact almost too familiar to attract attention. Every muscle must be suffered to rest for a time after contraction before it can be again contracted. Even the heart and the muscles of respiration must be allowed to enjoy regular periods of repose many times each minute. These are examples of local rest, not involving the entire body. But if the whole body participate in any violent action, every part will manifest a consequent disposition to rest. Witness the effects of the venereal act. Every muscle is relaxed; the brain, which has officiated as the supreme source of energy, experiences exhaustion, and sleep frequently terminates the voluptuous paroxysm. In like manner, sensations of severe pain, if sufficiently prolonged, become a cause of sleep. Prisoners upon the rack have slept through sheer exhaustion while undergoing the horrors of torture. Little children frequently fall into a deep sleep immediately after painful, though comparatively bloodless, surgical operations performed without anæsthetics. The depressing emotions, even, may so fatigue the brain as to induce sound sleep through reaction from previous excitement. Every wearied portion of the body must rest; and when the brain thus rests, sleep is the consequence.

Impressed by the force of such considerations, certain physiologists[18] have reasoned from the analogies suggested by a study of the results of muscular fatigue, and have suggested an hypothesis accounting for the occurrence of sleep by a supposed loading of the cerebral tissues with the acid products of their own disassimilation during wakeful activity. The acid reaction of the brain and of the nerves after exertion, corresponding with the development of acids in the muscular tissues during contraction, suggested the probability that an excessive presence of lactic acid and its sodic compounds might be the real cause of cerebral torpor and sleep. Could this hypothesis be proved, ordinary sleep would take its place along with the states of unconsciousness induced by anæsthetics and hypnotics, and the lactate of sodium should be found the very best of medicines for the relief of wakefulness. Its administration for this purpose, however, has yielded only the most discordant and unsatisfactory results. The fatigue theory, moreover, is insufficient, since it furnishes no explanation of the invincible stupefaction produced by cold, nor does it render intelligible the unbroken sleep of the unborn child.

Far more comprehensive is the hypothesis advanced by Pflüger.[19] According to this view, the state of wakefulness is maintained by a certain degree of activity in the cortical substance of the brain. Like all other bodily organs, this substance is renovated by the assimilation of nutrient materials derived from the blood. By this process oxygen is stored up in chemical combination, forming “explosive compounds,” whose precise composition is not fully understood. When for any reason the supply of oxygen is insufficient, as in hemorrhage, producing cerebral anæmia, or in impregnation of the red blood corpuscles with carbonic oxide or chloroform, or other substances capable of excluding oxygen from the hemoglobin of the corpuscle, the cerebral tissues are imperfectly renovated. The explosive constituents of the cortical protoplasm are then inadequately renewed after mental activity, and the sensitive portions of the brain are no longer fitted to manifest the highest forms of intelligent activity. But, when nothing interferes with healthy nutrition, the requisite degree of instability in the protoplasm of the brain is effected by intussusception of oxygen. Under the influence of the various nervous impressions which reach the brain, the unstable protoplasmic compounds break up into simpler forms. The motion thus liberated by these “explosions” of excitable matter is, in some way at present utterly inconceivable, projected upon the field of consciousness where the mind dwells; and we are thus brought into conscious relation with the external world.

That the capacity for thus signalling across the gulf which divides matter from mind is the result of a certain perfection and complexity of physical structure is rendered probable by the utter failure of the infra-cortical organs alone to impress the conscious intelligence by any amount of independent activity. The same thing is also indicated by the unconscious sleep of the rudimentary fœtal brain, and by the brevity of the intervals of wakefulness which mark the life of the new born babe. That this capacity is dependent upon a special mobility of the atoms of the brain, is shown by the speedy cessation of intelligence which follows great reduction of temperature, as in hibernation, or during exposure to severe frost. That its exercise is largely dependent upon the activity of the senses is proved by interference with their function, as in the case above quoted (see p. 18) from the observations of Strümpell.