A Light Box to the Rescue!

It's been storming in Seattle for three days now--snow on Saturday, which was gorgeous: heavy wet flakes that swooped and swirled around my car as I drove home from my massage that afternoon.

Then heavy, heavy rain on Sunday--I didn't leave the house for the entire day. Didn't even get dressed, as a matter of fact. My friend Laurie came over to work on holiday projects with me, and I stayed in my flannel robe as I knit and ate soup and biscuits. (I kept the honey off the yarn, but it was a near thing.)

Today, the rain continues and it is dark, dark, dark.

Fortunately, the light box that I ordered a couple of weeks ago arrived on Saturday. Laurie, who is a massage therapist and uses a light box in the winter herself, helped me get it out of the box and set up.

HappyLight

That's what it's called, the "HappyLight." Actually, the "HappyLight Deluxe," although there is no "HappyLight Lite," or "HappyLight Regular," as far as I can tell. The name is painted on the plastic cover, along with this text: "Sunshine Supplement Light System."

I think it's pretty funny, which is a good thing, because there's no way I can get that writing off of there without damaging the light box.

So I've been sitting here with my light box shining on me for the past several hours, and I think it's working. I certainly feel more energetic than I would if I were just moping around here on this dark, rainy day without it.

I ordered my light box from a catalogue called Gaiam Living. It cost about $200, plus shipping.

This is what the catalogue says about the light box:

Bathe in the healing power of 10,000 lux glare-free Natural Spectrum light when you need the healing relief only sunlight can bring. The Deluxe Light Bath helps alleviate light-deficiency symptoms--whether from rainy days, seasonal change, jet lag or shift work. ...

Let's see if it's powerful enough to get me out the door to walk Connie in the pouring rain!

This is the first time I've ordered from this catalogue, which has some interesting things, and some that definitely belong on the "Quack" list.

For example, a bra with built-in bumps to massage the lymph glands under the arms.

Uh, huh.

The text doesn't say so, but you can't help but think that this is being sold as something that might help prevent breast cancer, by "...promot[ing] circulation and allow[ing] the tissues to relax in this area that contains 80% of the lymphatic glands that help process impurities."

I asked Laurie, who, as I said, is a massage therapist, about the "Brassage Bra" and she said, "NOPE, don't think so," so don't go out looking for this one.

I forgot to ask her if 80 percent of the lymph nodes are under the arms, because that sounds high to me. Don't forget, there are lymph glands in the groin, and in the chest, all over, really, so that number sounds wrong.

@ Jeanne Sather 2007.

Comments

[Amorette (on her mom's computer)]

I have a text from an undergrad stats class whose title says it all: "How to Lie With Statistics".

I do the seasonal-affective thing, too, especially when it's cold, dark and dry. I haven't felt inspired artistically for weeks :( I got a full-spectrum light, too. I hope yours helps :)

[Teresa Hartman]

I was hoping you would miss that bad weather, but really glad you got the light box. Your light box reminds me of a "Northern Exposure" episode, where a character gets a light visor and overdoes it, getting manic, and they have to pull him away from it to get him sane again. I couldn't find the episode online, but a reference on this blog: http://www.boomergirl.com/stories/2007/oct/05/changing_seasons_linked_changing_mood/,
and a quote on IMDB:
Chris Stevens: "Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light." Light IS life, and I am glad you have yours handy.

[MaryM]

I live someplace where it's slightly sunnier in the winter, although we are close to the ocean and get a lot of gray days.

I have a more outdoor job and try to not wear sunglasses in the winter in hopes of getting my eyes those rays.

My holistic friends tell me it's light in your eyes that perks your brain up so I keep on with the sunscreen thinking that skin cancer isn't anything I want to encourage.

Usually by March I'm feeling starved for sun. I'll be interested to see if you think this light box helps. I might part with $200 if it seems to work.

[jeanne]

So far, the light box seems to be helping. The light in the eyes is what you need, that's right. It stimulates, I want to say the pituitary gland--have to check that.

I go outside without sunscreen in Seattle because we are so far north, and I want my body to make vitamin D. Even though I've had a skin cancer, my doctor agrees that, at this latitude anyway, I don't need the sunscreen unless I'm going to stay out long enough to burn. So puttering in the garden and walking the dog--that's also how I get my natural light, most days, even in the winter. It really helps to be outside.

The other thing I think the light box is supposed to help with is the food cravings, typically for carbs, that women especially get in the winter. Anyone have any experience with that?

Too soon to tell for me.

[Sara]

My true love recently invested in one of these:

Sunrise System USA Model
http://www.morningsunrise.com/products.php?content=detail&code=SRS200US

It is *fantastic*. Even the new (used) cat likes it.