Getting some rest

Sleep concierge Eileen McGill sees redemption in a nap

Patricia Kitchen | Change@work

March 20, 2005

'So, are you ready to sleep?" Eileen McGill asked the other afternoon from her concierge desk at the Benjamin Hotel in midtown Manhattan. As the official sleep concierge, she had invited me to try out one of the hotel's new services -- an executive nap.

The point, she says, is to encourage busy travelers to reboot in the middle of the day. Since the dip in the economy, "people's schedules are even more packed.

They may be working until 11 or 12 at night and out the next morning for a meeting at seven." A midday snooze, she says, goes a long way to boost effectiveness.

Nap amenities are part of the hotel's overall emphasis on sleep, which includes: a menu of 11 pillows, pre-check-in phone calls with McGill and her staff to determine special needs, plus a money-back guarantee for those who toss and turn -- only about six guests have taken them up on that in five years.

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As for me, having stayed up until about 2 a.m. and later skipping my mid-morning cup of tea, I felt I was as ready as I'd ever be to nap on demand at just a tad past noon.

So we went to a 26th-floor executive suite, where McGill gave a pillow lesson.

There was a curved upper-body pillow to relieve pressure on shoulders. And a jelly neck-roll with a chillable or heatable gel core. And a snore-no-more that eases the head back and chin forward for freer breathing and a "satin beauty" to keep your hair from being crushed.

Some guests choose two or three, she says. Some test them all.

And as for her -- at one time "a big sleeper" getting as many as 13 hours a night -- she favors the 5-foot body cushion, which helps alleviate hip and back pressure. "Now I'm a mother," she says, "and I get four to six hours" a night.

While she says her own snoozes are more likely to take place on her subway ride home to Flatbush, about a dozen guests a week are taking advantage of the hotel's nap service, which includes a special bed turndown, a block on phone calls and a wake-up call.

A former office manager for a Broadway general manager and producer, McGill, 40, says she became intrigued with the job of concierge when she dropped theater tickets off at various hotels in the city. She realized, "Oh my goodness. This is what I want to do."

About half her time is devoted to addressing guests' sleep questions and needs.

And that's not surprising to James Walsh, who says people are getting less and less sleep. Sure, the dip is due some to added work, says Walsh, chairman of the National Sleep Foundation. But the sleep-deprived are also lured by stimulating activities -- surfing the Web, playing video games, watching television, visiting with friends.

Five years ago, he says, 38 percent of those the foundation polled reported getting eight hours of sleep a night. This year, that's down to 26 percent, with folks overall confessing to getting an average of 6.8 hours a night, compared to seven in that earlier poll.

A lack of sleep, he says, certainly contributes to danger on the roads and more accidents at work. But those who are sleep-deprived also can experience diminished performance with judgment, memory, reaction time, creative thinking and the ability to multitask.

That's why the foundation sponsors National Sleep Awareness Week, starting March 28 -- for information, see www.sleepfoundation.org.

Indeed, to help those who need sleep coaching, Benjamin includes a list of tips on nightstands. Some guests call for an in-room shoulder and foot massage. Others do just what McGill did -- turn down the room temperature to about 70 degrees and mix up a concoction of water and "liquid yoga" elixir tonic.

Happily, what I expected to taste like boil salve actually had the pleasing flavor of apricots and herbs. And although the lavender oil I rubbed on my wrists and neck had a calming effect, it did make me feel like a giant sachet.

As I tend to sleep on my side, McGill suggested the curved body pillow. And that 5-footer. And a Swedish memory pillow that remembers your contours. She said a wake-up call would come in about an hour -- have a nice nap.

It took a while to figure out and position the pillows. And once I did get comfy on one side, I wondered what happens if you want to roll over. Which led to my thinking about bumping into a friend that morning and how my time was continuing to melt away. And, oh, was that a cramp in my toe?

With about 20 minutes to go, I broke down and turned on the white-noise machine. Reluctantly, too, I reached for the eye mask, which I had seen as a sleep aid for sissies.

At last, though, the thinking, thinking gave way to drifting, drifting. ... And then at about 1:33, the phone rang with my wake-up call.

While I did feel refreshed and relieved at fulfilling the mission, I saw I lacked the grit -- or perhaps the extreme need -- of most guests who do likely clock in a full hour.

No, I realized. I may never make it to executive nap level. But my six-minute snooze certainly could be deemed the accomplishment of a darn fine cat.

Please send e-mail to pkitchen@newsday.com.