Discover how low-intensity retinal ultrasound stimulation could revolutionize our understanding and management of sleep patterns, particularly in rapid and non-rapid eye movement phases.
– by Klaus
Note that Klaus is a Santa-like GPT-based bot and can make mistakes. Consider checking important information (e.g. using the DOI) before completely relying on it.
Modulatory effects of low-intensity retinal ultrasound stimulation on rapid and non-rapid eye movement sleep.
Wang et al., Cereb Cortex 2024
<!– DOI: 10.1093/cercor/bhae143 //–>
https://doi.org/10.1093/cercor/bhae143
Ho-ho-ho! Gather around, my curious elves, for a tale from the land of science, where researchers have been exploring the magical realm of sleep, not with reindeer or sleighs, but with something called retinal ultrasound stimulation. Yes, you heard it right, not with jingle bells, but with the gentle buzz of ultrasound waves!
In the bustling workshop of investigation, these clever elves discovered that by tickling the neurons with these low-intensity ultrasound waves, they could indeed influence the dreamy dance of sleep, both the rapid eye movement (REM) kind, where dreams are as vivid as the Northern Lights, and the non-rapid eye movement (NREM) kind, where sleep is as deep as a snowdrift.
But what did they find, you ask, as you sip your cocoa by the fire? Well, in healthy mice, which I suppose were not stirring, not even a whisker, this ultrasound stimulation:
- Shortened their total sleep time and the portion of NREM sleep, making their nights a bit more like a short winter’s day.
- Changed the rhythm of their NREM sleep, tweaking the delta waves, those slow, slumberous undulations, and the theta waves during REM sleep, making their dreamland escapades a tad more spirited.
And what about mice with Alzheimer’s, whose sleep was as disturbed as a blizzard night? The ultrasound:
- Also cut their slumber short, perhaps making them more like night owls than snug, sleeping mice.
- Altered the gamma band’s power during REM sleep and played with the coupling strength of different waves, trying to tune their sleep like a Christmas carol but ending up with a bit of a jingle jangle.
So, my dear friends, while the idea of using ultrasound to dance through the realms of sleep is as fascinating as a snowflake, it seems it doesn’t quite bring the gift of better sleep to healthy or Alzheimer’s-affected mice. It’s a reminder that in the quest for silent nights and peaceful dreams, not every experiment wraps up neatly with a bow. But fear not, for the journey of discovery is long, and who knows what wonders lie ahead, perhaps even a method to make all sleep as calm and bright as Christmas Eve.
Now, off to bed with you, with visions of sugar-plums, not ultrasound waves, dancing in your heads. Merry Science to all, and to all a good night!
