The Force Is Strong With This One

Yesterday saw my full circle completion of Sleep Apnea testing.  I went yesterday afternoon to pick up my dreaded CPAP machine.

I have hated this entire sleep testing process.  Then come to find out that I have to take my machine with me to the hospital when I have my surgery, so I not only have to get the damned thing, but I have to know how to use it.

My appointment with James, the CPAP guy, was an adventure in What The??? if I ever saw one.  He was one of those chatty guys – the chatty, rednecky variety.  Yay.

So, I go into the dreaded sleep clinic, and they take me back to the “hotel” rooms they use for sleep testing.  I was in the big room this time – the one I did use when I was sleep testing – and they put me in the recliner.  James goes about talking, and talking and talking and talking with his Western Maryland accent, but he’s not said anything yet about the actual machine.

Finally, he pulls it out (this was after a 15 minute tirade about the liberalson CNN) and begins to set it up.  He’s slowly showing me how to use it (this is the on/off button – see?  On?  Off?), how to fill the humidifier (use distilled water only – distilled – you know what that is?), how to change the filter, how to clean it, etc.  It was not an intimidating machine.  Everything was well labeled.  The humidifier said right on it “use only distilled water.” 

Then came the business of choosing my mask.  Of all the things on my body that aren’t petite and tiny, my nose is.  My nose is one of my favorite features.  It’s tiny, and shaped well.  So, James looks at my nose, and picks a mask that is meant for someone with Jamie Farr’s nose.  This damned thing covers my entire face.  I looked at him like, “You’re kidding right?”

“How does that feel?”

mumble mumble too big smurfle

“Looks like it might be a bit too big.”

So he goes back into his bag, and pulls out the 407.  I have no idea what this means, but hey, I’m doing what I gotta do.  “This here’s the 407.  It’s for people with itty bitty noses, like you got.”  Yep folks, that’s a quote.  “Let’s see how this rascal feels.”

Sigh.

This one is better – and it only covers my nose.  The full face mask made me feel like I had a racoon sitting on my face.

So, I’m finally hooked up, and it’s all good.  I take the thing home, and get it all set up.

And I instruct Mr. G that there was to be no teasing.

Yeah, right.

So, last night, I get ready to use it.  I strap the stupid mask on, and turn on the machine while he’s in the bathroom.  I think it’s the easiest form of defense.  Act like I’m asleep before he can even come in the room.

Except, not.

He gets in bed behind me, snuggles up close, leans his head over my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Luke, I am your father.”  And then starts breathing like Darth Vadar.  Which I knew is what would happen, because the mask, does in fact, sound like Darth Vadar.  Long, low, loud breathing noises.  Behind a mask.  I’m doomed.

So, I made it through the first night of the CPAP.  I took it off a few times.  I felt a little closterphobic.  But eventually, I bucked it up, and put the thing on.  All in all, I think I had it on about 5 hours.  I asked Mr. G before I left this morning if I snored last night.  He said he didn’t think so, all he heard was me making plans to build my Death Star.

He’s a comedian.

So, I have my Darth Vadar mask.  I pray that after surgery, I can ditch this stupid machine.  Until then, I’ll practice my jedi mind tricks.  Maybe I can get Mr. G to take out the trash.

You want to take out the garbage.

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