Of all my disorders, the one I’m willing to discuss publicly is my sleep problem.

I went to the doctor recently and he asked, “How are you sleeping?” I don’t think he really cared, though, because he didn’t even bother to look up from my patient file as he asked the question. I thought that was odd since he didn’t look like he was actually reading it, just staring at it.

I said, “Sleeping is a big problem for me.”

“You’re not alone,” he said, continuing to pretend to read my file. “All I hear from my patients is that they don’t get enough sleep, and that they’re tired all the time.”

“That’s not my problem,” I said. “I sleep too much.”

My doctor finally looked up. “Really?” He smiled. “How much do you sleep?”

“Well,” I said, “If I don’t have to be anywhere and I don’t set an alarm, I can sleep for 15 or 16 straight hours without waking up.”

He stared at me, his mouth gaping. “Really?” he repeated.

“Yes,” I said. “I cannot get up. I just sleep and sleep. And my dreams get weirder and weirder the longer I sleep.”

He then burst out laughing, which made me feel a little better. I had been worried that he would call for a gurney and have me immediately transported to a sleep-study room.

He tried to compose his face while looking back at my file. “Are you depressed?” he asked. “We could try an antidepressant.”

“Not anymore,” I said. “You’ll see in my file that I’m already being treated for that.” I knew it! My suspicion that he was only staring at my file was confirmed. I didn’t know whether to feel gratified or irritated.

“Oh, yeah, right. Hmmm,” he said, still smiling from his laughing fit. “Well, maybe you should set an alarm every day and get up after eight or nine hours,” he suggested.

I just looked at him. Did he not know about “snooze” buttons? I could, and have, hit mine for hours.

He closed my file and said, “Well, your physical results came out fine. See you in a year.” He held open the door.

“Aren’t you concerned about my ability to sleep away most of a day?” I asked.

The corners of his mouth began to turn up ominously. “We should all have such problems,” he said, ushering me out.