We’ve suspected for a few years now that Jason’s breathing at night isn’t quite normal. He’d snore in a truly spectacular fashion, then suddenly stop……………for a long time sometimes…….then startle, gasp, stretch, and start the cycle over again. This happened every minute or so for hours at a time. It was distracting and scary and kept me up some nights, but mostly I became used to it. “Gosh, it sure sounds like it might be sleep apnea,” we agreed, but because we were uninsured at the time that conversation was usually followed by a shrug and an “oh well… I hope you don’t die in the night…?”
But he has a real job now, with health insurance *cue the heavenly chorus,* so he went in for a sleep study in October. Because sometimes insurance makes your life harder before it makes it better, this process of getting him diagnosed and treated took about 4 months longer than we were expecting. He just got his CPAP machine Monday, and we’re both adjusting. It’s hard to fall asleep with something strapped to your face pumping air into your body, and it’s equally hard to fall asleep next to someone trying to do it.
But it turns out that after we do fall asleep it might be the quiet that is more disconcerting.
I woke up with morning in the wee hours to a strange silence. No gasping. No wheezing. No breathing sounds of any kind. This was alarming to me in my mostly-alseep state, and I leaned over to him and touched his arm to see if he was ok. It was cold. I put a hand on his chest. Also cold, and not moving. OH DEAR GOD HE’S DEAD STUPID MACHINE CRAP CRAP CRAP WAKE UP *vigorous shaking of the husband while perhaps shouting at him a little.*
Of course he woke up annoyed and confused about why he was being shaken and yelled at. “WHAT?!?”
“I thought you were dead.”
“Oh good. Pull the damned covers up, would you? You’re freezing.”
This could take some getting used to.