I’d done everything I could think of to not be diagnosed with sleep apnea. Yet here I was at 10:30 p.m., slamming shut the reservoir on my godforsaken CPAP machine, stomping around my bedroom like a toddler.
After listening to me from downstairs, my husband entered our bedroom to try to have a grown-up conversation with me. I’m sure he began with something rational like asking if I was OK, and I probably, with sarcasm, asked him if I’d told him lately how much I hate my stupid machine. I wondered how he’d managed to survive using his for so many years while he tinkered with the settings on mine.
I didn’t want to have another medical issue
For years, I dealt head-on with physical problems, from medically induced menopause to a pulmonary embolism, and eventually, autoimmune disorders. When my husband kindly suggested perhaps my exhaustion and ever-worsening snoring could be sleep apnea, I gave him a resounding: nope.
Finally, I acquiesced — mostly to prove him wrong. It turned out I was having 14 to 19 apnea episodes per hour. I decided that wasn’t too bad, ignored the results, and kept on trucking, never feeling rested. In fact, despite being nearly 10 years out from surgical menopause, I still experienced eight or more hot flashes per day. I also woke up throughout the night, finding it increasingly difficult to fall back asleep.
For months, when my husband broached the subject, I shut down. I’ve had plenty of other health issues, so neither of us understood what was so different about this situation. Finally, though, it rose to the surface: I didn’t want something else to be wrong with me.
I felt like a failure
What I couldn’t say out loud then but understood later was what I associated with a Continuous Positive Airway Pressure machine: failure. Further proof that I was overweight, aging, and not in great shape. Now I had to add an inability to breathe correctly to the list.
That initially made me angry, and my bad attitude led to uninformed decisions. More concerned about how I’d look, even in the privacy of my own bedroom, I declined the online survey the company sent me that would have helped me realize the nasal pillow CPAP mask wasn’t my best choice due to my seasonal allergies and a constant stuffy nose.
When I first received my machine and mask, insurance required that I wear them for at least four hours a night for 30 of the 90 days. I wasn’t off to a good start when the nasal pillows made me feel like I was suffocating, and I took the mask off in my sleep every night. I woke each morning with a raging sinus headache. Lousy luck continued that first month, as I ended up with both a tooth and a sinus infection.
Once healed, I needed a new mask. Again, I declined the survey, because — I don’t know. OK, I do know. I was convinced the full-face mask was the least sophisticated choice. I might be old, but I could still try to be somewhat cool. The next one, however, a small hybrid nasal pillow and mouth mask, didn’t work at all. Not even for a night. That was it. I didn’t care anymore. I’d rather have sleep apnea.
By then, I was six weeks into my 90 days. I let myself not care for another week, until my husband asked if we’d have to pay for my machine. Suddenly I cared a lot. When I called the company, they again suggested the survey they’d sent me (three times). Finally, I took it.
It said I should use the traditional, full-face mask. Of course I should. Out of sheer exhaustion, I got over myself. I was overweight and getting older. I was not cool.
I finally was sleeping through the night
Two days later, the mask arrived. As soon as I put it on, I knew. It was the one. Unlike the hybrid, this fit my face perfectly, and without nasal pillows, my stuffy nose didn’t feel like it was trying to suffocate me.
Still, I remained unconvinced of CPAP’s efficacy. On a drive with my mom months later, I grumpily listed its downsides: I wasn’t bounding through life with new energy. I hadn’t lost weight. I still had migraines.
The longer I talked to her that day, however, the more I noticed small areas that seemed to be improving. The first, and most notable, was that I’d been sleeping through the night. I guess I had to admit it was helping. A little.
Since then, even more has changed. I have fewer hot flashes, and sometimes I even feel well-rested. Now, when people ask, I don’t hesitate to tell them I have sleep apnea, I wear a full face mask, and I no longer hate my little breathing machine.
