…the barn door gets locked.
In theory, I could have managed my apnea since beginning to wear the CPAP respirator back in…I think…February. Instead, it mostly got worse. The specialists said most people adjust to the discomfort in a month, as long as they wear it every night for about seven hours. And of course all organisms react identically to the same stimuli.
No, for me it was torture. Although chronically fatigued I still couldn’t find sleep with those “pillows” stuck up my nostrils. In bed, my most common thought was probably, “we couldn’t do this to the prisoners at Guantanamo Bay.”
And that was before I finally managed to fall asleep…to quickly discover that whenever my mouth sagged open even slightly, my medical “aid” would respond by blasting air down the nose and into the throat. When I woke to that sensation and realized what happened, I thought I was in the Circle of Hell so horrible that Dante had repressed his memories of it.
“Ah, you need a strap to keep your mouth closed in sleep,” the experts said. “Strap” turned out to mean a tourniquet…for my head.
Apologies for going on about this, but I’m also trying to organize my sob story (but a true sob story!) for future legal counsel. My plea will be countered with, “he didn’t comply with the specialist’s instructions in the first month.” And that’s true: in my numbed and exhausted state I found it impossible to torture myself any more than I did. The treatment made things a lot worse before it got better. Which, prior to my termination, it didn’t really ever do.
So, guess what happened when I went back to the sleep clinic a few days ago? The technician heard my complaints and mentioned a new respirator, the Wisp.
As you can see, it does turn the user a whiter shade of pale than Elric of Melnibone. But you know what? It’s a small price to pay. So what if direct sunlight will now cause me to burst into flames? I can actually sleep in this thing…most of the time…with relatively minor disruptions.
The Wisp came out only weeks after I got the “nasal probe” model, and I’d still have my job if I’d only known.