I sat in my doctor’s office, weary from fatigue and yawning mightily as he entered. Noting my healthy color and firm handshake, he seemed perplexed.

“So, what brings you here today?” he asked.

“I think I’m suffering from CFS,” I said, rubbing my eyes and resisting the urge to lie down on the examining table.

“Chronic fatigue syndrome?” he responded. “OK, that’s not uncommon in men your age. I know you haven’t had any physical issues as of late_, so let’s talk about your mental health. Are you depressed?”

“I’m very depressed,” I said. “I don’t know how Oppenheimer ended.”

He lowered my chart. “What does Oppenheimer have to do with chronic fatigue syndrome?”

“I don’t have chronic fatigue syndrome,” I said. “I have cinema fatigue syndrome.”

“Excuse me?”

“I can’t make it through an entire movie without falling asleep”

“And, um, how long has this been going on?” he asked, checking his watch and realizing other patients were waiting. Patients he deemed had ailments more serious than mine. They would have to wait a little longer.

“I’d say about three years. At first, I thought I could cure myself if I stopped going to multiplexes.  You know, it’s dark in there, the seats now have foot rests, and management even allows you to bring blankets into the theater. That’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Agreed,” he said.

Fear the Fatigue-Causing Netflix

“But the same thing is happening in my house,” I said, now wide awake. “I start scrolling Netflix, find something that looks intriguing, hit ‘play’ and settle in.”

“And then what happens?”

“The next thing I know, the closing credits are rolling and I don’t even know what the plot was about. And then I’m awake all night.”

“Have you tried different viewing positions?” he asked. “A straight backed chair instead of a couch, perhaps?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “It’s starting to affect my social life.”

“How so?”

“You should have seen the look on my girlfriend’s face when I suggested we watch Barbie standing up.”

“I see. This is more serious than I thought.” Scratching his beard, he continued. “What about adjusting the time you watch movies?”

“Are you suggesting that, instead of a date consisting of dinner and a movie, I should make it a movie and dinner?”

“It’s an option.”

“Sure, if I want to move into a retirement community this weekend. That sounds like my mom’s schedule. She’s 88 by the way.”

“Maybe it’s the types of movies you watch,” he said. “Have you tried different genres?”

Maybe I Should Watch 10-Minute TedTalks

“I’ve tried EVERY genre,” I said. “Dramas, comedies, documentaries, murder mysteries, true crime, you name it. I did manage to get through season three of Hacks on HBO.”

“I LOVE that show,” my doctor said. “So, you stayed awake because the episodes are so funny?”

“No, because they’re only 30 minutes long,” I said. “And there were a few episodes I had to rewind after I woke up.”

“What about alcohol?” he asked. “Do you drink when you’re watching?”

“Occasionally,” I said. “I mean, who doesn’t like to share a bottle of sauvignon blanc while watching Mother of the Bride?”

“Maybe that’s your issue.”

“So, what are you saying, Doc?” I said. “That, before turning on the TV, I should walk to the corner Starbucks and return with two Venti Nitro Cold Brews?”

“It’s an option.”

“I don’t think it would be a good idea to watch The Execution while I’m all jittery,” I said.

“Then my only suggestion is to put you on, what I call, the ‘Gen Z’ entertainment diet.’”

“It doesn’t involve kombucha, does it?” I said. “That stuff is disgusting”

“No, it means limiting your entertainment viewing to Instagram reels and TikTok videos. Most are only 90 seconds tops. Can you handle that?”

“I’ll give it a try,” I said.  

I left his office, called my girlfriend and told her I had a great Saturday night planned for us that involved watching YouTube shorts while sharing a minibar bottle of sauvignon.

I promised to have her home by 7:15 p.m.