Ongoing inflation

Discussion in 'Off Topic' started by prism, Jul 17, 2008.

  1. prism

    prism Guest

    I wondered for the longest time as to why I was so infernally tired. Turns
    out I have severe obstructive sleep apnea. I now sleep with a CPAP machine
    and full-face mask - and, for the first time in many years, actually SLEEP.

    I was not sleeping at all prior to the treatment, and my functioning during the day...
    Let us not go there. Suffice it to say that work on motorizing my bike had completely stalled. I should resume work on the thing shortly - and need to, especially
    as my sensorium has returned to its former 'high-gain' state. (I just had to
    order new dark goggles this month, and I wear them everywhere - even indoors.
    Now all I need is some new and better earmuffs, and then...

    Fly, ROBIN, fly. (Subaru Robin, that is.)

  2. Dude. CPAP is my friend. At first you gotta get used to it. If you have the one that only covers your nose,then if you open your mouth it can get dry in a hurry,even with the water hydrating your air flow. If you get the one that covers both your nose and mouth you gotta believe that what you exhale is actually leaving your mask,and morning mouth dryness is a guarantee,at least it is here in dry air Colorado.
    Once you get used to it,your loved ones will not hear you snore no more. They might even think somethings wrong! And you'll have the best sleep in your life.
    To everyone,if you snore in bed,GET A SLEEP STUDY DONE!!
    Another added benefit is my blood pressure is down to a manageable level now.
  3. darwin

    darwin Well-Known Member

    My wifes cure for me snoring is the couch, problem solved. Everyone says I snore real loud but Ive never heard it once and it never bothers me, kinda strange huh.
  4. SimpleSimon

    SimpleSimon Active Member

    Well, darwin, it may not "bother" you on a conscious level, but I guarantee it has effects, subconsciously, at least. Sleep apnea comes in a wide variation of degrees of affect, and the consequences can vary greatly. The only certainty is this - there are consequences.

    Consequences to your energy level, to the clarity of your thoughts, as prism noted consequences to your sensory input handling (auditory acuity, visual acuity, smell/taste discrimination, tactile sensitivity, etc), consequences to collative thought processes (out of which arises creativity), and consequences to metabolic systems and physical health.

    Heavy snoring is one of the most certain indicators of serious sleep apnea, although by no means diagnostic. Like Large said, it certainly effects base blood pressure, which affects almost everything else in your body.
  5. darwin

    darwin Well-Known Member

    I know its a serious problem if my humor offended anyone I apologize.
  6. prism

    prism Guest

    Sawmill follies

    I was told that I snored in my early twenties, though with but modest volume. During my first sleep study, I asked if I sounded like 'a bad sawmill'. Turns out I did sound like a sawmill, only nowhere nearly as loud as I was afraid of.

    When the test results got back, though - I wished I had made enough noise to resurect the dead - as my blood oxygen saturation was low enough to cause me
    to turn as blue as a Snurf. (just above fifty percent at worst, with an average in
    the low seventies.)

    Don't know what it is now, but I'm glad the mask I have (full face) has a small place
    to attach an oxygen line.

    On to the next part. First day I actually sleep eight hours, that sensory thing gets
    BAD. Go into the store, and the display case with the frozen food... Well, it looked as if lit up with lightning. Like arc-welding without a helmet. Then, the muzak is loud enough to overwrite both my thinking and shuffle my brain. Finally, I get too close to the coffee display. (I do not drink coffee)

    The smell is so strong it feels like I snorted the ground-up coffee beans!

    I got home passably, and that afternoon went to the doctor. (Follow-up appt for the second sleep study) The waiting room... Uh, crowded, lots of small children, no baby mufflers in sight. I'm on edge just standing there. I get taken back to the room (Dr's orders if it's bad, and it was).

    I look at his flat-panel computer monitor while his assistant's doing the usual things about blood pressure and temperature, and...

    The contrast on the thing is cranked so high the picture's coming two inches off of the screen, and the whole scene - windows, ugh - is shooting sparks off of it. Needless to say, a computer monitor that looks like that isn't exactly fun.

    It gets worse: I'm writing up my notes with the eamuffs on, and I'm glad I've got 'em, because I can hear his hard-drive whining. He's got the quietest computer I've heard yet - and I can still hear that baby Pratt&Whitney screaming for kerosene. I've got the goggles back on when he shows, then take them off...

    That gooseneck lamp is sparking like a welding rod, and I've got to close my eyes.

    That's 'Sensory Integration Dysfunction' in a nutshell, and I'm glad there are drugs
    which help. I'm taking one of them now and hoping to get the other prescribed when I return.