Mommy fails a big test

Towards the end of June, I went to the doctor’s for a sinus infection. While the doctor was checking me over she inquired “Did you know you have an obstruction in your throat?” which led to other questions such as “Do you snore?” (“Yes, I’m famous for that in our family.”) and “Do you ever wake up gasping for breath?” (“No, but hubby says I do.”) and so on.

You see where this is going. I was given a script for antibiotics, and a referral for a sleep study.

It took a month from referral to actual appointment.

The big day night finally arrived. We were told to arrive between 8 and 8:30. There was a horrendous thunderstorm that night, so 3 of us (independently) erred on the side of caution and arrived at 7:50. I was signed in and brought to my room. I was in my PJ’s, snuggled under the covers with a book, and ready to go by 8:15. That was the last good thing to happen.

Some of the many things that annoyed me:

There was no indication of schedule.

I tried to read but the lights were too harsh and hurt my eyes.

I was afraid that I would fall asleep before the technician came to put on the wires.

The technician didn’t start putting on the wires until 9:30.

The technician didn’t finish putting on wires until 10:35.

Thus the phrase “hurry up and wait” was brought to a new and ultra-annoying meaning.

A couple of observations:
Sleeping with your head covered in wires s*cks big time.

Sleeping with your head covered in wires and people talking loudly in the very next room s*cks even more.

I practiced my yoga breathing. I tried to think happy thoughts. Eventually I dozed off.

After a mere 2 ½ hours of sleep, the technician came in and threw on the bright lights. I literally put my arm over my face to shield my eyes. He told me I needed to wear a mask because my oxygen level was too low. The mask was huge, covering my nose and mouth, and extending up to my forehead.

Sleeping with your head covered in wires and a big, hulking mask covering your nose and mouth, and feeling like you’re suffocating is almost impossible.

At that moment I realized that if he’s already putting a mask on me, than I must have sleep apnea, and that I would be sleeping every night for the rest of my life with this huge mask on my face. I tried not to cry.

I practiced some more yoga breathing. After an hour, I was still suffocating and the mask was leaking. I called him in to fix the mask. Again with the bright lights. He made some adjustments. I finally dozed off.

He came back in at 6:20 and put on the bright lights again.

It felt like I spent a night in a motel run by incompetents.

A friend argued how can they get an accurate reading when it’s impossible to sleep with wires. Well, there is a big difference between 1.) waking because of the monitor wires bothering you (you toss and turn, and your brain waves are still in waking state) and 2.) waking because you stops breathing (your brain waves are in REM or delta sleep, while you snore, gasp, and your breathing actually stops).

Two weeks after the sleep study I met with the Physician’s Assistant for the results. I stopped breathing an average of 77 times an hour. I have Very Severe Sleep Apnea. There are three treatments available for sleep apnea: 1.) dental appliances, which only work on mild cases, 2.) surgery, which works on about 50% of cases, and 3.) CPAP machines, which deliver Continuous Positive Air Pressure, which opens airways of 100% of cases.

I reluctantly made an appointment with their Respiratory Therapist.