Hear me Snore

“You snore.”

That’s a personal trait that most of us do not want to admit. I know I certainly didn’t. I first heard that a few years ago, thanks to my daughters. Of course I didn’t really believe them, or blamed it on allergies. I’m allergic to all sorts of ordinary things, although not as much as I used to be, thanks to five years of allergy shots. Still, on occasion my children would mention that I snored.

When I remarried, I had to adjust to sharing a bed with another person again. Thankfully we have a king sized bed. I know I have chronic insomnia, and frequent back pain, so I tried hard to ensure my tossing and turning wasn’t keeping him awake. He has back and hip issues, so has done the same for me. He has gently mentioned that I do snore, but has never made a big deal of it, just so I didn’t hog the covers and spent at least a part of the night snuggled up close.

Then last winter we went to Texas to visit the oldest. We took a side trip to San Antonio, and we shared a room with Mike. He woke me up several times in the night telling me that my snoring was disturbing his sleep. The next morning he suggested I get it looked after, as I was also stopping breathing during my nasal orchestrations. I said I’d get it checked out, then promptly forgot about it.

Flash forward to this past summer. We went to the beach with Mike and the darling woman he’d soon marry. That is when that stinker of a child recorded me whilst I slept! I’d snore, then sound like I was choking, then silence. Gary, has told me that I also will say “no” when this happens as if my subconscious is telling me to not do that. I had to accept that I had sleep apnea….a condition that robs people of a restful night’s sleep and can lead to all sorts of health problems, including the more permanent one of death.

So I made an appointment for a sleep study. Those are an experience. I was placed in a room with a nice bed, not the hospital kind, but a real, double bed. There are cameras aimed at the bed, so you know every move you make will be observed. In order not to miss any nocturnal activities, I also have about 68 cords attached to me to monitor movement, including a mic taped to my neck to record my vocal cords. Several corded monitors were attached to my legs and torso, the rest were semi glued onto my scalp.

No it wasn’t that extensive, but It sure felt like it.

Once I was all nice and hooked up. It was time for me to attempt sleep. That took a good hour, maybe two. I was having a back pain flare up that was causing my left hip to spasm and my leg to twitch. Not pleasant. Eventually I slept, only to have my bladder wake me up far too soon. They unhooked me, stating they’d had enough for a sound diagnosis and sent me home. I immediately went back to bed, to try to catch an hour or so more sleep.

I then got to do it all again several weeks later, this time with this little machine called a c-pap. I wore all the wiring plus a mask on my face that constantly blew air onto my face by way of a hose attached to a machine. The mask looks like kind of like the kind fighter pilots wear, but not as insect looking. “Goody.” I thought. “I’ll not sleep a wink.” once everything was ready for me to make the attempt.

Six hours later, they woke me up. To my surprise I was sleeping on my back. I never sleep on my back, because I feel like I’m suffocating if I try.

I now have my own personal machine. I used it for the first time last night, and all was quiet on my side of the bed. It will take a few nights to adjust the tightness on the mask because it tends to leak. When it does, the escaping air aims for an eye. Now I can again insist that I do not snore without wondering if I’m being completely honest.