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Globe and Mail
39 minutes ago
- Globe and Mail
A sleep expert explains why you need lighter, breathable blankets this summer
As temperatures climb, most people naturally adjust their routines: more patio time, fewer layers, an uptick in ice cream consumption. But overlooking one key change at bedtime could sabotage your slumber during the warmer months. As hot nights lead to restless sleep, too many of us keep using our winter-weight bedding. A seasonal swap to lighter, breathable blankets isn't just about aesthetics (though breezy linens and nautical stripes can transform a bedroom into something more beach-y and fun). Experts say it could also be one of the simplest ways to deepen your sleep from June to September. 'Changing blankets seasonally can help improve sleep quality by keeping your body at a comfortable temperature,' says Armin Rahmani, a psychiatrist and sleep medicine specialist. 'Since your thermal needs vary depending on the season, using the same blanket year-round may not provide the best sleep environment.' Struggling with insomnia? 'Sleep hygiene' rules could be making it worse Overheating at night is more than just uncomfortable. 'It can reduce the amount of deep sleep you get, which is critical for feeling rested,' explains Rahmani, who also sits on the board of the Canadian Sleep Society, an advocacy group whose goal is to improve sleep for all Canadians. 'Even mild discomfort from feeling too warm can lead to more fragmented sleep and lighter sleep stages.' Losing sleep over your blanket might sound ironic, even silly, but the consequences can be serious. The Canadian Institutes of Health Research links chronic sleep deprivation to a multitude of issues, including cardiovascular disease, diabetes, hypertension and poor mental health. And Canadians aren't exactly getting enough shuteye as it is. According to a 2023 survey by Narrative Research, just 16 per cent of us report sleeping well all seven nights of the week. Blankets are not the only cause. Tariffs, politics and a slumping economy are among the many stressors likely keeping us tossing and turning. But it's still worth asking: What should you be snuggling up with when it's more than 25 degrees at midnight? To get clues, Rahmani points to a recent systematic review published in the Journal of Sleep Research. 'The findings highlight that the relationship between bedding materials and sleep is complex,' he says. 'No single blanket type is ideal for everyone. But generally, lighter, breathable materials may benefit those who tend to overheat or sleep in warmer environments.' Insulative materials such as wool and down, he notes, are generally better for chillier seasons. Sogol Asghari, president of Canada's Institute of Textile Science, agrees. 'The most suitable blankets for summer are made from breathable, moisture-wicking and lightweight materials,' she says. 'Fabrics with loose weaves promote airflow and help regulate body temperature during sleep.' Both experts suggest natural fibres such as linen, cotton and bamboo. 'Studies show linen can improve sleep quality under warm conditions, especially in young adults,' Rahmani says. 'For cotton, which can be relatively affordable, look for lightweight, percale-weave cotton for a cooler feel. Bamboo-based fabrics are antimicrobial and naturally cool to the touch.' There can also be environmental pluses, depending on the fabrics. 'From a sustainability perspective, organic cotton and bamboo are appealing options for ecoconscious consumers – when responsibly sourced,' Asghari adds. Look for seals of approval from organizations such as OEKO-TEX, which screens for products detrimental to human health, or the Forest Stewardship Council, which notes the companies that responsibly grow products like bamboo. As for what to avoid? 'Polyester and other synthetic materials may trap heat and sweat, which can disrupt sleep, especially for hot sleepers,' Rahmani says. In short, aim for anything comfortable. If you're waking up tangled in sweaty sheets or peeling polyester off your legs at dawn, your blanket might be unfit for the season. Summer sleep should feel like bliss, not bedlam. A good summer blanket begins with a natural and lightweight fabric.

Globe and Mail
40 minutes ago
- Globe and Mail
DANGEROUS WATERS
An algae bloom covers Lake Erie near Toledo, Ohio, in 2014. Toxic algae contaminated the water in Toledo, making it unsafe to use for two to three days. Haraz N. Ghanbari/AP to view this content.


Globe and Mail
an hour ago
- Globe and Mail
Beyond ‘burnt toast': Eric Andrew-Gee probes the story of Penfield and Cone in The Mind Mappers
'I can smell burnt toast.' Most Canadians over 30 remember the 1991 Heritage Minute short that celebrated the revolutionary Dr. Wilder Penfield, who experimented on the brain's temporal lobes in the 1930s. Less well remembered is his partnership with the Iowa-born neurosurgeon William Cone. It was this collaboration that enabled Penfield to turn the Montreal Neurological Institute, familiarly known as the Neuro, into a global epicentre for brain research between the late 1920s and late 1950s. In his new book, The Mind Mappers, The Globe and Mail's Eric Andrew-Gee brings the unusually symbiotic relationship between this odd couple compellingly to life, giving due respect to Cone, whose life ended tragically inside the institution to which he had devoted the best part of his career. The partnership of these two neurosurgeons in Montreal seems like one of those perfect alignments of serendipity. How does it come about? Cone and Penfield had these eerily parallel childhoods. They were both raised in the American Midwest in the turn of the 20th century. Penfield's father had abandoned the family after going bankrupt as a feckless doctor in Spokane, Washington. He packed his family up on a train, sent them to live with his wife's family and then never joined them. Cone's father contracted typhoid fever and died when Cone was 2. They both grow up with stories of medical greatness in their families, but also medical failure. When they finally cross paths at Presbyterian Hospital in New York in the 1920s, their heads are in a very similar place. Penfield is one of a couple dozen practising neurosurgeons in the world, and he's basically learning on the fly because there's no one to teach him. That's the state of neurosurgery at the time. It was so rudimentary, so crude, so dangerous for patients, and so heartbreaking for practitioners who were constantly losing patients. Cone arrives as a research fellow. He's interested in the brain from his medical training in Iowa. His grandmother had died of a brain tumour, so he had the brain on the brain. Penfield wonderfully describes this moment when he sees Cone walking down this stairwell in the hospital. In retrospect, he realizes this is the moment that set the course of his life. They immediately realize there's chemistry there, although they're polar opposites. The differences are striking. There seems to have been a kind of symbiosis through opposition. Penfield's this tall, dapper, handsome, athletic guy. Very outgoing, charismatic and well-spoken. Cone is none of those things. He's stocky and socially awkward. He might be diagnosed with Asperger's nowadays. He prefers tinkering in his workshop, inventing new surgical tools, and sitting with patients, holding their hands. Penfield is an excellent doctor and cares about patients, but he also has grand philosophical visions of what the study of the brain could be. It's a perfect match because one is very hands-on and practical and one is a silver-tongued orator and scientific visionary. When Penfield is recruited by the Royal Victoria Hospital in Montreal, his one condition is they hire Cone too. You started off researching Penfield, and then stumbled upon this little-known character, Cone, who effectively ends up the hero of your book. Tell me about that discovery. There's an internal history of the Neuro – a coffee-table sort of book – with a chapter on Cone that describes this figure who's probably the greatest neurosurgeon of his generation. The master of masters. Incredible judgment, incredible dedication and the most patient-oriented doctor anyone had ever met. Thanks to his extraordinary gifts as a doctor, he made possible the scientific leaps that had originally gotten me interested in Penfield's work. Then, in his early 60s, he dies suddenly in his office in tragic circumstances that bring the golden age of the institute to an end. I got the sense that this was a great archetypal story, this master-and-apprentice relationship. As a storyteller I was hooked, but as a person I was just so moved by Cone's saintliness, by the fact that this medical hero who was at the heart of one of the great stories in Canadian science was totally forgotten. He really comes to life in the book, which is remarkable given the lack of paper trail. Penfield had a sense of his legacy, so he kept every piece of paper that crossed his desk, and a journal. Cone has virtually none of that. He hated to write because it slowed him down. He wouldn't even write patents for the surgical tools he invented. It could have made him tons of money. People would badger him to write back about a simple, 'Are you coming to this medical conference?' Author John Green became obsessed with tuberculosis – so he wrote a book about it So virtually everything we know about Cone comes from Penfield's archive, from their correspondence, because he did write to Penfield. Their correspondence is extraordinary. Tender longing when they're apart. It was in the clipped style of mid-century Protestant North American men, but it's nonetheless revealing. To that point, there's a strong suggestion that Cone's devotion to Penfield – he turns down the opportunity to run his own institute to stay on as Penfield's second-in-command, for substantially less pay – might have been more than platonic. Male friendships can be as fraught and turbulent as any love affair. I do think Cone's feelings ultimately tipped over into the romantic. I don't know if he ever acknowledged that to himself. Almost certainly not to Penfield. It was illegal to be homosexual in Canada at that time. There's all this circumstantial evidence that his love for Penfield was something more than platonic. He had this bitterly unhappy marriage, had no children. On its own, that doesn't tell you much, but then there's the tone of the letters to Penfield. When Penfield doesn't appoint Cone his successor when he decides to retire, it devastates him. Probably it wasn't the right role for Cone in some way, but the way Penfield went about it felt to Cone like a stab in the back. He has a meltdown. He falls into a deep depression in the years after this rift. And I'm not sure the scale of his reaction makes sense if his feelings for Penfield were merely platonic. What are Cone and Penfield's greatest achievements – either singly or together? Cone made the hospital hygienic, functional, medically sound, so that people wanted to come there and be cured. But it was Penfield's ideas that made their legacy. Penfield had a sister who had a brain tumour in her frontal lobe that caused seizures. In 1928 he and Cone operated on her at the Royal Victoria Hospital and she almost died. Penfield was a little too aggressive and carved out about an eighth of her brain without really knowing what the frontal lobes did. Book Review: Original Sin details Biden's declining health and a cover-up by closest advisers She survived the operation, but the tumour grew back and she died. In the meantime, her personality changed. She became, as he described it, like a lump of putty. Penfield realized he'd been reckless, and that he needed to map the brain if he was going to be an effective surgeon. That's what he and Cone did, and that's their greatest achievement. They were like the early cartographers. They developed this procedure for treating epilepsy that would simultaneously map the brain. In the course of doing this, they were also figuring out what different regions of the brain were responsible for. And this is absolutely crucial, not only for surgeons to know where not to cut, but for the treatment of neurological conditions. It was the mind-body problem that had always puzzled philosophers and scientists: Is there a ghost in the machine, different from our gray matter, that makes us? This interview has been condensed and edited