I need a machine to get a good night’s sleep
Ugh. I hate this machine.
Man. This machine has changed my life. For the better.
When I strap on that face mask thing, I can feel a slight pressure of air pushing into my nose and mouth. The machine offers a little hum, and there’s a low-key, almost Darth Vader-like whoosh as I breath in and out. All this creates a slight pressure in my airway, preventing it from collapsing upon itself and suffocating me to death.
It’s been a more than a year since I was diagnosed with a moderate case of sleep apnea and prescribed this C-Pap machine. (I think it’s a C-Pap; it might be another C-type of machine, but I don’t get bogged down in the details.) I’ve used it every night ever since, except for two nights during a trip to Perry, Iowa, for which I forgot to bring it.
Those two nights were kind of hellish, to be honest. I could feel my breath catch and myself waking up with a snort. After having several months of uninterrupted sleep, it came as a shock. And the days after were a bit of a tired struggle.
That doesn’t mean I like having to use this machine. I hate it, in some ways. It’s uncomfortable and the hose is awkward and basically I cut myself off from my wife and the world when I have it on. I can’t really talk with the mask on. I can’t wear my glasses.
Last night the hose got caught under some blankets and I rolled over and the tension in the hose pulled the machine off my bedside table. The crash bolted me awake, startled my wife and scared Henry, our dog companion so much that he fled the bedroom and spent the rest of the night on the living room couch.
As traumatic as that all was, it’s still better that waking up with a snort and gasping for air.
So even though I hate the fact that I have to use this stupid machine, I’m as deeply grateful to have it. Since I’ve started using it, I’ve had a lot of sweet nights of deep sleep, and wow, that’s a heavenly experience.
I’m still tired during the day, but it’s a different kind of tired, different in a way that I quite can’t explain. But I don’t feel the deep pull of taking a nap during my workdays anymore.
The most significant improvement, and the one that has convinced me that I need to keep using this damn piece of equipment, is that there is a snap in my step on my runs. I’m quite old (58) and slow, so I’m no means one of those gazelle-like runners you might see in your town.
No, I’m a plodder and clunker. But I’m a lot less of a plodder and a clunker than before, and I’ve been plodding and clunking my way through much longer runs than I have been able to manage over the last, say, five years.
I’ve read that a good night’s sleep is often paired with weight loss. I’m disappointed to say that I’m just as heavy and thick as I was when I started this machine-assisted sleep regime. I’m not dangerously heavy or thick, according to my physician, but it’s an uncomfortable amount, especially when I go for runs, bike rides or long drives in my minuscule car, a Honda Fit.
So sleeping well didn’t melt away the pounds, but it made the quality of life better. And maybe, just maybe, it sets me up for a more rigorous and discipline approach to nutrition and eating.
Maybe that’s too much to ask.
