About five years ago, when I looked in the mirror I would see a ghost stare back at me. Not a real ghost, but my face. As in, white and lifeless. I would pinch my cheeks to bring back the colour but it rarely lasted.
At the time I had to sleep in a different bed from my wife, due to snoring. It’s embarrassing to admit1 and it often drove her crazy (the snoring drove her crazy, not the fact she was away from me).
I often had headaches when I woke up and never knew why. My doctor suggested I get tested for sleep apnea. In case you’re not familiar with this, an apnea is defined by a period where breathing stops, or you struggle to breath for about ten seconds while asleep.
Nooooooo!!! I don’t want to have sleep apnea. I’m not ninety!! I don’t want a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine.
Apparently you can have up to four apneas an hour before it’s a real problem. Four is the magic number. I had five. And the snoring? I found out years before that I have a deviated septum, meaning I don’t usually breathe through both nostrils. (This is getting personal!)
Ok, no big deal. I can live with that. Thank God! I’m not getting a CPAP! Wooohoo!
My doctor suggested I could try testing again in six months or so and see if there was any change.
I waited. I started to feel worse and decided to test again. This time, my hourly apneas were at twenty-two!
To say this was depressing was an understatement. I was so disappointed. But I felt physically awful, saw ghosts in mirrors, and wasn’t sleeping with my wife. I had to take action.
My doctor referred me to a sleep apnea clinic and I was able to get in quickly. I would’ve simply gone after work but the hours of this place was interesting. You know you’re in Seniorville2 when the hours of operation are Mondays to Thursdays 10-1. I had to take a whole day off just for the appointment.
I walked into the clinic, which was in a tiny old converted house. The floors creaked. It smelled like silicon tubing. The clinicians were very kind and spoke loudly. (Ok, now I’m exaggerating, they didn’t speak loudly.)
They sat me down. Or, I sat myself down and I tried on a wonderful array of masks. I felt very attractive wearing them(this is a lie!!) They gave me a few different ones to take home with the machine, to try before I buy. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I felt like I was suffocating with this thing on. Drowning in air. Dreading my life.
How on earth am I going to get used to this?
Later that night, I took it to the basement and got it set up. Yes, I had been delegated there months before, far away from my wife’s ears and from my young son’s middle-of-the-night wake ups.
I took the CPAP out of the bag, made sure to fill it with distilled water as instructed, inserted the filter correctly, plugged in the hoses (the clinic calls them ‘tubing’, they usually correct me), set up the iphone app, checked the SD card, and plugged it into the wall.
Then I put on the very attractive mask (á la elephant look). I crawled into bed, panicking.
Breathe, Michael. Breeeeaaathe.
Eventually I calmed down and fell asleep.
I slept all night as always. When I woke up in the morning I felt like I was high as a kite! It was the strangest feeling. Like I had been oxygenated, even though this particular CPAP does not have an oxygenator. It simply kept the airflow going.
I looked in the mirror and surprisingly had a tiny bit of colour in my face.
Could it possibly work this fast? Do I really need this thing? Oh my God, I think I do.
Although it was extremely uncomfortable in so many ways, the benefits far outweighed the discomfort. I was converted. I felt like I became a poster child for CPAPs.
I learned quickly….
You have to give into it. Give into the claustrophobic feeling. Relax and breathe. (Ohhhmmmmm……)
Soon after, I began to wonder…. do I still snore? I searched online and found an iPhone app that records sound only when triggered by noise.
That night, I pressed ‘record’ and went to sleep. As usual I slept all night, felt refreshed in the morning and woke up excited to check out the results of my little experiment.
I pressed play and heard the usual sounds of moving around a bit before falling asleep, and a bit of the plastic HOSE rubbing against the bed frame. Then I heard myself getting up. That was it! No snoring! Zero…zilch…. I couldn’t believe it.
I’ve now used a cpap for three years. I’ve lived, I’ve camped, I’ve even travelled overseas3 with one. I feel like I can do whatever I want.
Don’t get me wrong…. I still hate it and wish I didn’t have to use it. I would love to find a way to be free from it which could happen someday.
But having the benefit of feeling better, not snoring, and being able to sleep with my wife again make it absolutely worthwhile. And until someone finds a permanent cure for sleep apnea, I’m okay looking like an elephant in bed.
At least I no longer sound like one!
With Gratitude,
Ps. If you ever want to chat about sleep apnea, feel free to connect at mflorizone@gmail.com or if you’re a subscriber, simply reply to this email.
However, I’m telling you this because it’s fairly common and nothing to be ashamed of.
This isn’t a real place. And I have nothing against seniors. I’m just not one of them…. yet.
When travelling overseas and camping I rent a small battery operated cpap. In some ways it’s more comfortable than my home cpap machine. It also takes very little space!