Just Call Me Babar

I hadn't heard from either my Dr's office or the Sleep Clinic in two weeks, so I called my Dr. They had my results, but were unable to open them, computer related crap, blah blah blah, we'll get back to you.  A few days pass, and they call with the results, SEVERE sleep apnea. And I can tell you it must be VERY severe because the nurse who called paused and then STRESSED the word SEVERE. I think she even said it a few times. For effect. So basically, yeah, I'm close to death when I sleep from lack of breathing. SWEET.

Not an hour later, the sleep clinic was calling to make sure they get my Medically Insured Reimbursed business. I go in the next few days for my training and to pick up my C-PAP machine with its ""very convent and sporty duffel bag for easy transportation."

 YES. SPORTY.  What more can a girl ask for??

The Elephant.....





And it's trunk



And the Nose

This thing can have its own PILLOW??? Oh brother.



Am I wrong here people???



Do you see it? I'll look like I'm wearing an ELEPHANT'S FACE




Forced Air Breathing

Sleep study is done. Surprise! I have Sleep Apnea. I haven't gotten the full diagnosis from my actual doctor, but the Sleep Tech was rather impressed with my lack of breathing.
It took a good hour to fill out all the paper work and for my Sleep Tech to attached all the electrodes to my head. When she was done I kind of looked like the Queen Borg with all the wires coming off my head.

I of course still had my hair

I was completely exhausted when I arrived at the sleep clinic, and so of course I assumed I would have no problem falling asleep in the nice big bed I was going to have all to myself, in the nice dark and quiet room I would also have all to myself. Yeah, not so much. The mass of wires attached to not only my head, but my face and legs as well, was less than easy to sleep with. There was a nose piece in my nose that had another piece hanging from in case I began breathing through my mouth. It kept stabbing my upper lip. The tangling and rolling over and the leds poking me in my face, not so comfortable. I think I finally managed to fall a sleep around midnight only to wake up and become horribly antsy at 1 am.  My legs were spazing out. I couldn't get comfortable, I was about to freak the hell out when I decided it might help if I went to the bathroom.  That of course was no small task. And something I needed help doing.  I lay still in the dark room and timidly called out to my Sleep Tech, "Hello????"
Over the intercom she answers, "Do you need to use the restroom?"
"yes" I responded feeling foolish.
She came to my room and unhooked the mass of wires from the main thing they were plugged into, and slung the mini board around my neck.  Going to the restroom? Not at all graceful. I had wires down my sleep shorts which were connected to my legs, I had all the others from my head and face slung around my neck and an oxygen monitor on one of my fingers. AWK.WARD.
I shuffled back into the room where the Sleep Tech was waiting for me. "I'm going to put the C-PAP mask on you now."

His is too big for his face, but yeah

The head straps there went under all the wires that were coming out of my head.  It forces air in. Making it harder for you to stop breathing.  I thought I might need the full face mask:



This one covers your nose AND your mouth, talk about Darth Vader

 Did I mention that I had taken a sleeping pill after the Sleep Tech tucked me in the first time? Well I did. And then a mere 4 hrs later I took another half of a sleeping pill.  If was after that half that sleep FINALLY over took me. I was zonked out. At 6 AM my Sleep Tech came woke me via intercom. I was so incredibly out of it, I had to use  my GPS to drive to my mom's. A route I take on a DAILY BASIS.  My plan was to maybe nap for an hour or so and then get ready for work. I slept really hard for 2 hours. When I emerged from my old bedroom my mom looked at me and proclaimed, "You look SO MUCH better than when you got here!!!"
Thanks mom.
So, talk about sexy eh?? You know you want one of these too!

Well at least after I get this contraption F and I can sleep in the same room again. ALL NIGHT instead of just part of the night.

YAY BABY.

Sandman VS Darth Vader Mask

F complains about my snoring. He says it has gotten worse in the last year. In the last few months it has become common place for him to stumble off to the guest bedroom to sleep. Needless to say, I try and keep that bed made up, j.i.c. I haven’t been sleeping well either. I chalked this up to the fact that I was trying not to disturb him, and hence became a light sleeper. On my annual visit to my Dr., she asked if I needed any refills on any of the meds from last year. I told her the one that was suppose to make me sleep didn’t work (it was for depression, um, no), she gave me an actual sleeping pill. But first she asked me one simple question, “Does he say you ever quit breathing while asleep?” I looked at her dumbfounded. This had never occurred to me. And F had never mentioned it. When I got home that evening, I asked him, “Oh Yeah. ALL. THE. TIME.”


Seriously??? I quit breathing ALL. THE. TIME. And he NEVER mentions it??

“Well, it’s more like a; pause.”

DUDE. Not cool.

The Dr. signed me up for an at home sleep study. I received one of those oxygen nose pieces, which attached to a beeper looking thing. I popped one of my new found sleeping pills (SWEET) and proceeded to sleep. A few times the nose piece came out of one side of my nose, but if I woke up, I just shoved it back in and went back to sleep. I turned it in the next day. The following day; a Friday, the sleep center called me, to set up an onsite appointment. I didn’t call them back right away. Then my Dr.’s office called. I didn’t call them back either. The weekend passed and I slept pretty crappily, as did F. Monday morning, my Dr.’s office called me AGAIN to tell me I needed to make an appointment, ASAP. Apparently the data collected said I pretty much didn’t breath at all during the night, go figure. I did tell the lady who collected the little sleeper beeper that I tend to sleep with my mouth open, and so I think that might be part of the issue. I could be wrong. Anyway, the same lady cheerfully told me that they had a cancellation for THAT NIGHT and could I make it. Stunned, I agreed. I packed up my 2 piece sleep gear (t-shirt and shorts), my “portable” CD player and headphones with fresh batteries, my pillow; the Dr. prescribed sleep pills, and a fan, just in case it got too hot in there. From 9PM to 5 freaking 30 AM the next morning, I would be trapped in a “room” away from home.

How do they really expect anyone to really sleep during these things anyway? Telling me I HAVE TO SLEEP is like telling me I can’t have a cookie, or something to drink, because then you just know you HAVE TO HAVE IT. I guess I mean, this means I won’t sleep because I HAVE TO SLEEP. And the lady said my Dr. ordered 2 tests to be done, but most times things don’t work out that way, so people end up having to go back for the second half.

Excellent.

Stop Eyin' (Eyein') Me....

I do not care for seafood. This is a long standing dislike. Goes back many a years to a childhood fraught with 40 Fridays of Fish sticks. I'm talkin about Lent y'all. Yes, mom would swap Fish stick Friday with Spaghetti Friday, but nothing could wipe out the horror that is the fish stick.  Recently, when F and I went to Boston for a job interview,(him, which he didn't get, BOSTON damn it) he was in pure heaven, while I roasted in hell simply so he could enjoy some seafood. The hotel suggested a place down the street that was very popular with the locals. It was in a strip mall. Anyhoodle, my olfactory sense triggered a massive gag reflex when F opened the door.  I cringed, my face scrunched up in that "oh! gross smell!!!!!!!" look as my eyes fell upon a sea food DELI. A strip mall fish market.  F pushed me through the connecting door none too soon as I held my breath. The smell wasn't nearly as strong on the restaurant side.  But it is not just the smell my digital friends that sends me in to convulsions. The look gets me too. I cannot stand to have my food look back at me. AT ALL. EVER. It grosses me the hell out. So you can imagine how I felt when I opened an e-mail from a local Mediterranean restaurant and saw this STARING back at me. I gag just thinking about it!

THOSE EYES!!! Seriously. COOKED EYES.

GAG GAG GAG GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAG.

Mike Holmes, Where ARE You??

F and I have been in a corkscrew of never ending home improvement jobs. Something that should be a simple, weekend-ish projects have turned into MONTHS long frustration. A simple ceiling fan insulation has become a bit of a nightmare. Simply cut a hole, install the bracing, install the fan box, patch hole, sand, and paint. All that was accomplished, with only minor irritation. The problem exploded when my mom and I started to paint. The first coat of primer, Sherwin Williams, went on like butter.  We took a break, had some lunch, left the large floor fan directed at the ceiling, running for about an hour and half. I started the second coat of primer on the ceiling when bubbles in the paint started to appear. A few we popped, a few we left alone to shrink back up. When I started the second coat of paint, all hell had broke lose in the form of mass bubbling.  We quit. I cried. My mom went home. F raged.
Then he tried to sand out the bubbles, and the paint started peeling off in SHEETS.  Right back down to the drywall. 3/4 of the ceiling peeled down to drywall. We called in some people who informed us that we had a moisture issue. When they put on the addition, they didn't properly vent it. On top of that, we found that our roof ridge vent, which is to run the entire length of your roof peak, has a 3 foot GAP in the middle. W.T.F? These issues are beyond F's and my know-how, so we had to hire someone. I can I tell you, that hiring a contractor after watching Holmes on Homes is near to impossible.  Every one of those shows starts out with the homeowner saying how they did their homework. Ask for references, called people, and the guy seemed on the up and up and then WHAM they get left in the dead of winter without a roof and electricity. This was my fear. That we'd pay out all this money and still have an issue on our hands. And for what a small job it was, there was no way in the world that I could hope to get Mike Holmes in to fix it.  We hired a guy to tear out and install new insulation and drywall in the ceiling in the dining room and new drywall and insulation in the half bath, where it was discovered that one of the previous homeowners painted DIRECTLY over the wallpaper. Please, PLEASE don't ever do that, it is all kinds of wrong and will end up with who ever owns the house after you, cursing your name. Trust me on this.  Our contractor showed up, on time, and from what my mother says, who was contractor sitting, worked like a mad man.  After the job was suppose to be done, I, with all my Holmes Knowledge, do an inspection. "Um, F? I can still see the drywall tape, like, everywhere. I don't think you're suppose to be able to see it." And so began another round with the contractor. Who insisted that if he covered it up, it would be a bump and something about the walls sloping or something, I don't know. I just know that after several more weeks of me saying, "I can still see the tape." F and the contractor were ready to kill me, and then each other.  Also, one of the seams cracked, all the way across the room. F had a fit. I began to wonder just how much damage had to be done before I could get Holmes on the job. The contractor fixed the crack, and we've come to some sort of peace agreement. I'm getting ready to start painting. 
So help me, if that drywall tape starts to come up, there will be all kinds of hell to pay. And you all will have to send me some Valium.