They say that magical helpers always show up on the hero’s journey. Sometimes they are animals, sometimes they are people. I met one last night.
Her name was Melissa and she appeared out of the mist to guide me through the very strange experience of spending the night in a sleep lap with 36 wires coming out of my head.
It worked out well. It was painless, fascinating, bizarre, and educational. I learned a lot about myself, including the fact that I snore. We are moving on to the next chapter, which will be a mask I will begin wearing at night.
I have no complaints or regrets about it. I’ll s.are the experience, of course/
I think we are all entitled to some grumbling about health care and health insurance and medical procedures, but not much and not for long. One blog reader wrote that I should stop “being a baby,” but that’s what my father always told me, so I disregarded it.
I think whenever men show emotions, people find a way to put them down, I’ve learned not to listen to that, I need to be more open, not less. Can babies do that?
Every chapter in my ever-evolving search for health and personal responsibility has ended well for me.
And I’ve ended up facing every one of them, never eagerly, never happily. But always, and eventually, with gratitude. I’ve gotten healthier, and learned things about myself, and also about my body.
I want to age with honor and dignity.
My diabetes is fully under control, my heart is strong, my prostate has been refurbished, and soon, I hope, I’ll even get to sleep well at night, something I’ve been wanting my whole life.
Medicine, something I shunned, not seems a miracle to me. I can’t claim to be happy about it, but I do and will accept it.
From the minute I walked into the Saratoga Hospital’s eerie but comfortable sleep Lab, I was in another world, wires coming out of my head, receptors up no nose, glop all over my head. It was surreal, more out of one of those loopy sci-fi movies of the ’50s than now.
I was ushered in a toothless but bloodless motel sort of room and in the hands of the very supportive and impressive Melissa. My room was much like the new memory care rooms at the Mansion.
It was clean, bright, and comfortable.
I felt sorry at first for Melissa, thinking it can’t be a great job to watch people sleep all night. But she says she loves it, and I could see that she does. It is a joy to see people who love their work and take pride in doing it well. For here, this was a calling, not a job.
I really want to pause and try to describe the skill, warmth, humor, empathy, and professionalism Melissa showed me.
I’ve found Saratoga Hospital to be an unusual place with a strong ethos towards treating people well, staff, and patients.
People there actually speak well of their bosses. The nurses say they are treated fairly and well.
Melissa was above and beyond. She was patient with me, explaining everything that could happen in the coming weeks. The doctor will call me in two weeks with the results, and then, if he concurs, I’ll be sent a mask..
Melissa
I blinked at the fistful of wires she was holding. Two ran all the way down my pants to the bottom of my feet.
How on earth, I asked her, could anyone sleep with so many wires coming out of my head, neck, nose, feet, and face? How would I go to the bathroom? Turn over? Read a book? You get used to it, she said.
She anticipated every question, answered it cheerfully and in detail, and she made sure I understood it.
Melissa was always there for me, in the room and through the night. All I had to do was speak her name and she appeared, like a Disney fairy.
We were shooting for a bedtime of 10:30, I told her I’d never be able to sleep at that time. Oh, we’ll see she said. My wires were not turned down. I lay down at 9 p.m. and started to read one of my books.
The next thing I remember, Melissa was standing over me turning on all my wires. “You were snoring,” she said, turning the wires on. ‘I don’t snore,” I said. “Oh yes, you do, ” she said, “you are a major snorer.”
To think I made it to 74 and didn’t know it.
Melissa figured me out quickly. “I bet you want to take a photo of your face,” she said. she helped hold up the wires. I knew I looked like a Jewish Frankenstein. But I couldn’t wait to share it.
She said I sleep four good and solid hours and drifted in and out the rest of the night. We called it a day at 4 a.m., she said she had enough sleep time for the test.
I was able to sleep, go to the bathroom, read a book, watch a movie on my Iphone, listen to music. We had fun putting the wires on and fastening them with glop.
I admitted to being uncomfortable there, almost dreading it, not out of fear, but mostly out of health care fatigue. I just didn’t think I needed it. Another doctor, more appointments, more tests, more co-pays.
Unlike heart surgery, there were no needles, incisions, holes in my chest, tubes in my chest, bruises everywhere.
Melissa got me through it.
All I had to do was speak her name and she came cheerfully walking through the door to guide me?
This was a place I didn’t want to go. I’ve had a difficult relationship with sleep in my life, starting with the 17 years I wet my bed and got into the habit of staring at the ceiling for hours, desperate to stay awake.
I’ve never slept well and am resigned to it.
And yes, I do feel a bit stupid at resisting doing something about it for so long. CPAP masks help a lot of people. As I get older, I fear being overwhelmed by issues relating to my health. There is no end to what one sees, fears, or can get diagnosed.
In the past year, I’ve had surgeries on my heart, my feet, my prostate. Enough. But even as I write that, I need to acknowledge that every surgery made me healthier and happier. It’s a tricky line to walk.
People don’t need to be tired and struggle with sleep for years, as I have done. It seems there is hope. I don’t have any more reasons for ignoring hope.
People can dismiss science all they want, the doctors I have know what they are doing. It is a blessing to surrender oneself to others if they know more than I do.
I don’t. I told my urologist that I was certain I didn’t have sleep apnea, and besides, I said, I don’t want to get into bed with a Darth Vader mask that will cause my wife to want to flee the bed. I’m still having sex, I said, and liking it very much.
He nodded sympathetically and then said, while writing me a prescription for Sleep Apnea testing – “well, you can always take the mask off for a few minutes, I’m sure it doesn’t take you that long to have sex.” He is a smart ass and so am I, we both cracked up.
I’ve learned a lot since my open heart surgery in 2014.
There are many surprise benefits from open-heart surgery, one of them for me was that since then, I see almost every other medical procedure as minor.
I fought the Sleep Apnea test for a while, but that wariness evaporated, replied by fascination and the sense that I might finally understand my sleep problems and perhaps even be coming to terms with sleep.
Melissa taught me many things I didn’t know about how people sleep and how sleep affects the rest of the body. I’ve been going on three or four hours a night all my life. Time for more.
The evening was strange, for sure, but safe, painless, fascinating, and educational. I am always amazed at how little I know about my own body.
Melissa put me at ease from the first. She said she knew it was difficult for some people to feel safe all wired up like a sci-fi zombie while their every breath and flinch was being recorded in a dozen different ways, including a camera up in the ceiling.
“My job is to make you feel safe,” she said, and she did, right away.
My room for the night looked just like a higher-end motel room, the kind I used to sleep in on my book tours.
Everything said “calm,” the muted lights, the soft paintings, the gentle colors on the walls. I had my own private bathroom a few steps from the bed.
I’ve never slept this way in my life, but it didn’t take me long to get used to I could angle my Iphone up to watch a movie or hold a book at an angle to my face. The night went quickly.
In the morning, I thought I hadn’t slept at all, but Melissa said I’d slept more than the six hours required for the sleep test. This amazed me. She also said I was definitely a first-class snorer, something Maria and I didn’t know (she sleeps like the dead, she wouldn’t know if I exploded in the night.
There is no longer any doubt in my hand that I have sleep apnea or that it is a good thing to have it diagnosed, tested, and to have me fitted for a mask.
My life has been marked by the stubborn positions I take when confronted with something strange, and also by my willingness – eagerness even – to learn and change. I always caution people not to take me and my “never will” positions with a grain of salt, and not too literally.
Maria has learned this lesson.
This time, it was my doctors who challenged my stubbornness and finally decided just to ignore it. And you know what? I can’t wait for the mask to arrive.
Good for you, and good for Melissa (I like the name) for making you feel safe and comfortable. My husband also had a good tech when he had his test several years ago. I hope yours turns out to be the simpler kind of apnea, unlike his. But his sleep machine made a huge change for the better in his health and life, so I hope if that’s what you get, your experience will also be a good one. He’s napping right now with his cpap on, the only way he can sleep well.
My husband has been using a CPAP machine and mask for over a decade. He will be 77 next month. His sleep is so much more restorative and it is so much better for his heart.
I wish you luck, peace and restorative sleep !
My husband has been using a CPAP machine and mask for over a decade. He will be 77 next month. His sleep is so much more restorative and it is so much better for his heart.
I wish you luck, peace and restorative sleep !
( seems this comment was seen by me before….which is weird, since I have never commented on this page in my life)
Let us know what you learn. My husband started his cpap about a month ago and it has been challenging to say the least. Good luck to you. And Maria.
Wearing a CPAP changed my life. I had NO idea I was so sleep-deprived. Enjoy.
I’m hearing good things about it..
Good grief, Jon, a blog person actually told you to stop being a baby? This is what is wrong with the world today, everyone has an opinion and they feel it necessary to share it with others. That is the negative side of the internet in our lives. A lack of respect, don’t think about anyone but yourself, at the tip of your fingers, you can flick off insults and no-one is the wiser. It takes a pretty tough skin to run a blog I guess. I wonder at the nerve of people who do things like that. Isn’t it nice when people support you when you’re going through something like you did last night, the unease of dealing with the unknown and a nurse like Melissa helped you through it. That’s the good in people. Not the blog jerks.
Sandy Proudfoot
Melissa was very special..I sent letters to her bosses today.. they should know what a great job she did.
In your last post you shamed the people who sent you photos of their masks and said you hoped you would never do such a thing and here you are with a photo of you and your wires. If you find humor and acceptance in other people’s gifts you will have more friends.
Budinski you can understand why I don’t have many friends…I love your name, it seems so apt. try more humor and acceptance.
I appreciate this post, as I will probably be going to a sleep lab sometime next month. I have truly been dreading it, convinced that I will never be able to sleep. It is good to have an actual descriptive experience. It doesn’t sound as horrible as I have been anticipating.
My dad had sleep apnea, had the mask but his sleep test did not go well….he ended up leaving in the middle of the night….my dad was a mouth breather at night and the people where he went tried to close his mouth for the test, but he couldn’t do it, got mad and left! He got the mask but rarely wore it. I’m glad you had the test, were successful and will embrace sleep!
This doesn’t have anything to do with sleep apnea but it does with your resistance to try something you are wary of. I applaud you for taking this step to improving your health. I have resisted stand up paddleboarding and about a month ago I did it! I’ve gone 8X now along with 2 cousins who kayak. One is 80 next month the other soon to be 75 and I am breathing on 76!! Never be afraid to try something new.
Maybe 35 plus years ago I got my hubby to a sleep doctor, such loud snoring! And the CPAP machine entered our lives. Fast forward 15 years and my high school daughter got her CPAP. Finally several years later, after falling asleep in the afternoons and waking myself up with my own snoring, I fought with myself over 2 years about how creepy it was to having somebody watch me sleep, gave in and submitted to the sleep study. I’ve used my CPAP every night since I got it, more than a decade. If the power goes out we go to a motel that has power! (And I never for a moment gave in to an idea that I couldn’t get used to it.) Such better sleep and more energy! And the new machines are so quiet, unlike the one my husband had first, with far more comfortable masks now. Best of luck with yours!
Jon…
I’m glad your bedtime experience went well.
RE: “. . . she says she loves it, and I could see that she does. It is a joy to see people who love their work and take pride in doing it well. For her, this was a calling; not a job.”
I saw working in my own profession as a vocation, but it was challenging at times to place personal standards above the direction of managers who determined my continued employment.
Such a challenge arose when a manager assigned me to evaluate certain vendors, and then dictated to me what the study’s recommendation would be. That could not stand, because I believed I was hired to perform expert services, not be a paid shill.
I’ve been both an “individual contributor” and a manager. Getting along with everyone was difficult, because this relationship creates an inherent tension.
Bosses also have bosses. In a sense, we all have bosses: in choosing our work, especially with the professions, we commit to certain ideals.
Some medical schools still ask their graduates to abide by the Hippocratic Oath. It ends:
(paraphrased) If I carry out this oath, may I gain forever the reputation among all men for my life and for my art; but if I break it and forswear myself, may the opposite befall me.
A failure to this boss is a failure to ourselves.
Why do you bring up your sex activity so often?
Something DonaldJ did a lot. hmm
David, this one brought a smile to my face, although I doubt that will make you happy.
I guess I am supposed to crumble being compared to Mr. Trump. But I didn’t collapse in the face of middle school dum-dums when I was in it, and I sure won’t do it now. Your infantile jeering brings me back.
I’m certain the very last thing you wanted was an intelligent discussion about sex and the elderly, but I am a helpless fool, and hope springs eternal. There might be a spark or two of thought in you, and I will treat you with respect by answering you since you did phrase this as a question.
This is the 3rd or fourth time I’ve mentioned my sex life in 35,000 posts over a decade. I don’t think anyone could stand the details, so I don’t offer them. I’m sorry it’s too much for your prudish sensibilities; you are the first ever to complain. I think the elderly must own up to having sex and wanting it, as the culture pretends we don’t ever do it or need it.
You inspire me to do it more frequently as long as there are peckerheads out there like you eager to belittle the idea and offer locker room quality comments. I can picture your face.
People like you make it necessary for people like me to acknowledge having sex. Your Trump comment is stupid and doesn’t deserve a response; you debase yourself by making it, it does me no harm at all. Makes me a kind of stud.
You are a bigot in that way, and I wish you enlightenment. Yes, I do mention sex from time to time because it is important to me, and that is all the reason I need. I will do it whenever I think it’s appropriate. I wish you a life where you have better things to do than write infantile messages like this to strangers. Best, J
The first time I had a sleep test, years ago, it was actually done in a hospital and the bed was a standard hospital bed – narrow and with a mattress that felt like it was made out of plywood. The lights in the room were only dimmed, not turned off, the temperature was uncomfortably warm, and there was a fair amount of noise in the hallway. As you might imagine, I didn’t sleep very much and the test was rather inconclusive.
Fast forward dozens of years. Nowadays most sleep testing facilities are designed to be as comfortable as possible, with a real bed, good temperature control, quiet, and dark. And empathetic techs. It makes a huge difference. My last sleep test was done in one of those and I slept soundly. I’m glad that yours was this type of place.
I’m a mouth breather and have to use a full-face mask. I’ve had to go off on my own to find a comfortable one. The one that my insurance company would pay for was not adjustable enough to create a good fit. I hope you have better luck, but if you don’t, you might have to get your sleep doctor to write a prescription and send it to one of the online companies that stock lots of different shapes and sizes of masks.
I admire your ability/willingness to accept medical care as an addendum to your life, rather than as a redefinition of it. I know many people who have assumed the identity of “patient” and many more who avoid medical care to avoid that very thing.
Kudos, and carry on!
Thank you so so much for this post and ALL the photos. Thank you for talking about how safe you felt and how reassured, through your words and photo’s. It was very helpful to me bringing peace of mind and spirit and now not something scary. Thank you for walking us through it with you.