It's been almost a week, and I am still hooking myself up to the CPAP every night. I'm honestly surprised I have been able to fall asleep with the nasal mask on. I have had to teach myself to sleep with my mouth closed. This is a big change for me, as I normally have slept with my mouth open. (I'm a snorer. Ladies.)
However, I have been able to keep my mouth closed in my sleep, and keep a steady, deep breath through my nose while the mask is on. Fortunately, the calibration that was done is giving me sufficient air that I don't feel suffocated. That is a huge relief. The last thing I need is a panic attack in the middle of the night.
I was worried that there may be a leak, as I would feel cold air coming out the front at a steady pace. However, I was happy to see that the mask is designed to release air out of specially drilled holes in the front, and it was not an issue of a bad connection or a leaky hose.
I am using the machine about half to 2/3 of each night. Usually at about 2:30 to 3:00 in the morning, I get up briefly, go back to bed, and fall asleep without the mask on. I wish falling asleep at the beginning of the night was as easy as falling back asleep in the middle of the night. I know that I should use the CPAP for the full night, but I'm not quite that comfortable with it yet.
So far, my heart seems to be recovering slowly. I don't have a racing heartbeat any more, but I do still easily get winded going up stairs and hills. Dr. McCoy cleared me to go on runs with the Hash House Harriers again, and I went on the Brain City Zombie Hash yesterday. I was still gasping and panting like an obscene phone call on every uphill incline. I still had to take multiple stops to catch my breath. But, I can finally hash again! It's good to be back, but I was really sore today. It's a sad state of affairs when I go out running and drinking, and the next day, I feel more ill effects from the running than I do from the drinking.
I hope that I will really get used to the machine, which everyone keeps telling me will happen gradually. I'm relieved that it is not as cumbersome as I had feared, and it seems to be getting easier to use. I seem to be feeling a little more refreshed in the mornings, for the most part. So who knows? Maybe the machine really is doing its work. I promise I'll keep folks posted as to my progress as it happens.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
CPAP Journal, Day 1
Well, last night was my first with the CPAP machine. I was able to get some sleep,with a few minor hitches. The mask seems to form a tight enough seal around my nose for the most part, which is a relief. I found out when I got the machine calibrated yesterday that my insurance has a deductible between $500 and $1300, depending on where I go for supplies. It just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy about the Health Care system in America.
So first of all, big thanks are due to my father, who gave me the CPAP machine, which I would never be able to afford on my own. Thanks, Dad. I love you.
Now, back to last night. I took a sleeping pill beforehand, because I figured I may need the extra help to fall asleep the first time using this thing. I was able to fall asleep in about the same amount of time it takes me on a normal night. Adjusting the mask to my face seems easy enough; the straps move easily and the Velcro keeps them in place. However, the first time I woke up, I found that my teeth were clamped together tightly, in some subconscious effort to make sure I breathed only through the mask.
Of course, I did wake up 3 or 4 times in the night, which is about par for the course. No bad dreams this time, but I fell asleep at about 2:30 in the morning without putting the mask back on after a trip to the restroom and slept the rest of the night without it.
I guess the machine's whirring works as white noise, just like the fan I had used previously but had to unplug to make room for the CPAP. Fortunately, the machine comes with a humidifier reservoir, so I was not dried out by using it like I was in the hospital. I can sleep comfortably enough on my back or my left side, but sleeping on my right is awkward with the hose stretched across my body.
I would say that my first night with a CPAP mask was about as good as an average night's sleep. It was definitely not nearly as bad as I dreaded; no panic attacks or nightmares about being a rat in a maze. There are a few kinks to work out, but the final result was far better than I expected. A number of my friends tell me that I'll get used to the machine inside of a month, and will come to rely on it to provide a good night's sleep. I hope they're right. I'm going to try going to bed without a sleeping pill tonight. Let's say I'm...cautiously optimistic.
So first of all, big thanks are due to my father, who gave me the CPAP machine, which I would never be able to afford on my own. Thanks, Dad. I love you.
Now, back to last night. I took a sleeping pill beforehand, because I figured I may need the extra help to fall asleep the first time using this thing. I was able to fall asleep in about the same amount of time it takes me on a normal night. Adjusting the mask to my face seems easy enough; the straps move easily and the Velcro keeps them in place. However, the first time I woke up, I found that my teeth were clamped together tightly, in some subconscious effort to make sure I breathed only through the mask.
Of course, I did wake up 3 or 4 times in the night, which is about par for the course. No bad dreams this time, but I fell asleep at about 2:30 in the morning without putting the mask back on after a trip to the restroom and slept the rest of the night without it.
I guess the machine's whirring works as white noise, just like the fan I had used previously but had to unplug to make room for the CPAP. Fortunately, the machine comes with a humidifier reservoir, so I was not dried out by using it like I was in the hospital. I can sleep comfortably enough on my back or my left side, but sleeping on my right is awkward with the hose stretched across my body.
I would say that my first night with a CPAP mask was about as good as an average night's sleep. It was definitely not nearly as bad as I dreaded; no panic attacks or nightmares about being a rat in a maze. There are a few kinks to work out, but the final result was far better than I expected. A number of my friends tell me that I'll get used to the machine inside of a month, and will come to rely on it to provide a good night's sleep. I hope they're right. I'm going to try going to bed without a sleeping pill tonight. Let's say I'm...cautiously optimistic.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
CPAP Journal, Day 0
Crap, I am really not looking forward to this.
I just got my CPAP machine calibrated today; looks like tonight is going to be my first night hooked up to this damnable thing. In case you can't tell, I am not happy about having to use a CPAP to treat my sleep apnea.
But let's go back a bit first. About 3 months ago, I was suffering from some unusual symptoms. I was always short of breath whenever I would go up hills or stairs, but I chalked that up to my weight. The skin on my right hand was suddenly chapped all the time, when my hands had always been soft before. Strangest of all was the swelling in my ankles and shins. They seemed to be puffed up like overinflated balloons. The swollen flesh had the consistency of clay; if I pressed my thumb into it, the dent would remain when I took my hand away.
So one day in the middle of July, on the drive into work, my heart felt like it was racing. I told Lindsay about it, and she said I should get checked out in the Help Center at work. (Lindsay is a friend and co-worker of mine. We live across the street from each other, and carpool to the office.) I went into the Help Center, and they listened to my heart. The doctor said I had an irregular heartbeat, and he told me that he was going to call my regular health care provider and have me go there for a checkup. When he called, they told him that I should check myself into the hospital.
Wait, what? The hospital? For some shortness of breath and a quick heartbeat? So I called upstairs, told my manager I wouldn't be in today, and went to Swedish Edmonds. Next thing I know, I am hooked up to an IV and being told that they are keeping me overnight for observation.
Long story short, staying in the hospital sucks. I spent three days in there, getting poked and prodded. My fluid intake was limited to 2 liters a day. (That was a pain, as I am always thirsty.) The first night, I felt like I wasn't getting any oxygen, no matter how deep I breathed. That led to a mini-panic of doctors and nurses in my room. I must have been sedated, because the next thing I remember was a nightmare about being a rat in a maze, forced to undergo tests and experiments to check my responsiveness to various stimuli.
That dream was quickly explained when I woke to find myself in a different room, hooked up to a breathing device that felt like I was French-kissing a vacuum cleaner. Additionally, while I was out, someone had taken the liberty of installing a catheter. That, I really could have done without. Freaking OW.
According to my cardiologist, I have sleep apnea. That's not a big surprise, as it runs in my family. My brother and my father have both been diagnosed with the same. In this case, the lack of oxygen caused damage to my heart, weakening the part that regulates a normal pulse. As a result, the part that kicks in when you're running a marathon had to take over, resulting in an atrial fibrillation. The doctor says that with proper medication and treatment, my heart can be back to 100% inside of six months. However, I will have to use a CPAP machine when I sleep, to ensure that enough oxygen is getting to my lungs.
Which brings me to today. Dad gave me a CPAP he already had, and I got it calibrated at the hospital this afternoon, to match the setting they used when I did a sleep study last month. And the truth of it is...
I hate this Goddamned thing.
I have tried the mask on, and it looks dorky as hell. I look like a third-rate Darth Vader knockoff. It feels clunky and awkward, and the first time I tried it, I damn near had a panic attack. The machine they used on me during the sleep study made me feel like I wasn't getting any air at all, and I feel like a freaking invalid hooked up to an oxygen tank. I hate feeling this helpless, and I hate it more when I realize I'm going to have to use this horrendous thing, or one like it, every night for the rest of my life.
What's going to happen when (or if) I get into a relationship with someone, and tell her that I have to sleep hooked up to a friggin' briefcase with a mask over my nose? Who's going to want to sleep next to a whirring geek machine? Hell, how am I going to sleep with this thing on? I have enough trouble falling asleep as it is; now I have to add this 10-pound, black plastic albatross into the equation?
This sucks. It really, really sucks.
People keep telling me that I'll get used to the machine. I can't see how. It's going to feel like I'm wearing a ball and chain, attached to my face, while I'm trying (and failing) to fall asleep.
So I decided to start writing in this journal, in order to express my thoughts about the whole damn mess. This should help me see if I actually am making progress, as well as allow me to vent my frustrations without annoying people around me. My friends and family are, of course, welcome to read this journal to see how I am coping with this challenge (modern double-speak for pain in the ass,) and I hope that I can find the experience informative enough that I can learn from it.
Man, trying to sleep tonight is going to SUCK.
I just got my CPAP machine calibrated today; looks like tonight is going to be my first night hooked up to this damnable thing. In case you can't tell, I am not happy about having to use a CPAP to treat my sleep apnea.
But let's go back a bit first. About 3 months ago, I was suffering from some unusual symptoms. I was always short of breath whenever I would go up hills or stairs, but I chalked that up to my weight. The skin on my right hand was suddenly chapped all the time, when my hands had always been soft before. Strangest of all was the swelling in my ankles and shins. They seemed to be puffed up like overinflated balloons. The swollen flesh had the consistency of clay; if I pressed my thumb into it, the dent would remain when I took my hand away.
So one day in the middle of July, on the drive into work, my heart felt like it was racing. I told Lindsay about it, and she said I should get checked out in the Help Center at work. (Lindsay is a friend and co-worker of mine. We live across the street from each other, and carpool to the office.) I went into the Help Center, and they listened to my heart. The doctor said I had an irregular heartbeat, and he told me that he was going to call my regular health care provider and have me go there for a checkup. When he called, they told him that I should check myself into the hospital.
Wait, what? The hospital? For some shortness of breath and a quick heartbeat? So I called upstairs, told my manager I wouldn't be in today, and went to Swedish Edmonds. Next thing I know, I am hooked up to an IV and being told that they are keeping me overnight for observation.
Long story short, staying in the hospital sucks. I spent three days in there, getting poked and prodded. My fluid intake was limited to 2 liters a day. (That was a pain, as I am always thirsty.) The first night, I felt like I wasn't getting any oxygen, no matter how deep I breathed. That led to a mini-panic of doctors and nurses in my room. I must have been sedated, because the next thing I remember was a nightmare about being a rat in a maze, forced to undergo tests and experiments to check my responsiveness to various stimuli.
That dream was quickly explained when I woke to find myself in a different room, hooked up to a breathing device that felt like I was French-kissing a vacuum cleaner. Additionally, while I was out, someone had taken the liberty of installing a catheter. That, I really could have done without. Freaking OW.
According to my cardiologist, I have sleep apnea. That's not a big surprise, as it runs in my family. My brother and my father have both been diagnosed with the same. In this case, the lack of oxygen caused damage to my heart, weakening the part that regulates a normal pulse. As a result, the part that kicks in when you're running a marathon had to take over, resulting in an atrial fibrillation. The doctor says that with proper medication and treatment, my heart can be back to 100% inside of six months. However, I will have to use a CPAP machine when I sleep, to ensure that enough oxygen is getting to my lungs.
Which brings me to today. Dad gave me a CPAP he already had, and I got it calibrated at the hospital this afternoon, to match the setting they used when I did a sleep study last month. And the truth of it is...
I hate this Goddamned thing.
I have tried the mask on, and it looks dorky as hell. I look like a third-rate Darth Vader knockoff. It feels clunky and awkward, and the first time I tried it, I damn near had a panic attack. The machine they used on me during the sleep study made me feel like I wasn't getting any air at all, and I feel like a freaking invalid hooked up to an oxygen tank. I hate feeling this helpless, and I hate it more when I realize I'm going to have to use this horrendous thing, or one like it, every night for the rest of my life.
What's going to happen when (or if) I get into a relationship with someone, and tell her that I have to sleep hooked up to a friggin' briefcase with a mask over my nose? Who's going to want to sleep next to a whirring geek machine? Hell, how am I going to sleep with this thing on? I have enough trouble falling asleep as it is; now I have to add this 10-pound, black plastic albatross into the equation?
This sucks. It really, really sucks.
People keep telling me that I'll get used to the machine. I can't see how. It's going to feel like I'm wearing a ball and chain, attached to my face, while I'm trying (and failing) to fall asleep.
So I decided to start writing in this journal, in order to express my thoughts about the whole damn mess. This should help me see if I actually am making progress, as well as allow me to vent my frustrations without annoying people around me. My friends and family are, of course, welcome to read this journal to see how I am coping with this challenge (modern double-speak for pain in the ass,) and I hope that I can find the experience informative enough that I can learn from it.
Man, trying to sleep tonight is going to SUCK.
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