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Friday, September 30, 2011

Cyber Flusher Vegas

This is a detailed and very technical accounting of my first CPAP night.

The first thing I have to report is that the (very well endowed) Bridget was wearing those tight stretchy see-too-much pants that the younger generation is flaunting these days. Is it just me, or are these 'clothes' just a way of changing the color of your legs while still looking naked?

She also sported a very snug fitting cashmere sweater. I know Bridget is very well informed, professional and very business-like but as you may gather by now, I am not. I could barely put a sentence together in her endowed presence.

The (v.w.e.) Bridget showed me all the bells and whistles on my new CPAP while I tried to keep my eyes above the neckline.

I couldn't.

I looked on the table and spied something interesting.

"Bridget, what is that over there?"

"That's called a 'manometer'."

I was encouraged to see that the tubing attached to the manometer looked like it would be a pretty tight fit. (I have a large palette, according to clinical observations.)

Glancing at the manometer and then at Bridget I raised my eyebrows a couple of times.

"Is Mrs. Flusher joining you for lunch today? Perhaps we'd better keep moving on the demonstration." she said, and then "Creep," just under her breath. Bridget is such a fun girl, I bet she has all kinds of other pet names she could call me if we could just get to being more than medical acquaintances, and if I wasn't married.

I nodded seriously, signed a bunch of forms, and payed a wallet-load of money and strolled out of there with my new toy.

It's great that Bridget explained everything I'd need to know to be able to safely use this potentially dangerous device, because I didn't remember a thing she'd said. I did have a couple of sweet mind-photos though.

Bedtime rolled around and I started to wish I wasn't such a wanna-be-cad. I was baffled by all the accoutrements, hoses, clamps, batteries, adapters and what looked like a jock-strap for my face. And what I thought was a cup holder on the base unit turned out to be a place to put distilled water to power the device. Or perhaps to humidify the air I'd be sucking in all night long.

I finally got it all figured out and strapped myself into what should be sleep heaven for the first time in years.


Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Breathe right!

I've become enamoured of those plastic strips you put on your nose. You used to see only football players wearing these, or other professional sports types.

Did you know these can help you breathe???

A doctor I had some years ago told me I had a deviant septum and that's partly why I have some of these issues sucking good ole H2O into my lungs.
I have been putting them on my nose lately to wrench open my rather snug nostrils and heave my deviant septum into submission, hopefully into a position I can live with. Literally.

I am a bit concerned that these springy adhesive strips, which are sort of like shock absorbers for your schnozz, will leave me with permanent Elephant Man like damage. 

I really don't want to look like a Gorilla, but I do want to be able to breathe. And if it's worth doing, it's worth overdoing. That's why I've been applying SIX of these strips to my nose each and every night.

Is it helping? 

Would I go around with half a pound of spring-loaded sticky plastic on my face if I didn't think so?

The real problem with these - and they really do work wonders - is the price. Talkin' like 60 cents a piece. I'm on the lookout for a knockoff breathe right strip. Anyone know if the Wal-mart knock-offs are any good? The other thing I don't understand is why these things have strange numbers of strips in a box. Like 26. Is that a month's supply if you skip 4 or 5 nights???

Lately I tried the upgraded model of strip - it has four arms on it instead of two - that sucker pretty much sprung my nose and cheeks out about 3 inches in front of my skull. 

I'm only using four of those a night, instead of six of the others.





Sunday, September 25, 2011

Still waiting, still dreaming

Can you believe that I don't have my life-giving up-the-nose CPAP yet???

First, the prescription they (they being the good doctor N. Hale's office) gave was for a trial. That sounded like a good idea to me until I went to the medical contraption supplier of my choice in beautiful industrial cum car-mall Flusherville.

To those folks, trial didn't mean I got a new machine with no risk, a chance to test out various fighter-pilot airs supply masks...

No, to them it meant I should take home the oldest rental CPAP they have in the place.

The reason why it was the oldest is that they had exactly one left - and it was the one unceremoniously dumped on the table in front of me.

The current CPAP market is way slick - units that look like they were made by Bang and Olufsen, grey and chrome, in modules for E-Z cleaning. They come with timers and ramp-ups and heated hoses (!) and humidifiers for cryin' out loud.

Not the rental unit.

It looked like it might have been used as a bubbler in a grade school fish tank. Except that, unlike the new sleek F-18 models, it was the size of a microwave oven.

I was supposed to strap this thing to my palatte and lungs for seven to eight hours a night???

All I would be able to think about was the last 30 or so patrons who had used the unit before me. The last one probably finished three or four nice robusto Cubans just before sucking and blowing into that iron lung all night long. Hell, they probably had a garlic addiction, trying to cure themselves of the Gout without going to a doctor.

I was firm with Bridget, the (well-endowed) attendant at CPAPS-R-US. (I seem to have run into a crazy good luck-stream with attractive-to-me female attendants with which to fuel my fantasies, and avoided the glut of Ivans, Anelio's and graceful Sylvesters out there - whom I usually end up assigned to me in this particular life of misery sparked with Vegas greatness...).

"Bridget," I stammered, "do you think I could just buy the unit I want? I really like the Blo-Med Elite Turbofan model with heated hose and removable humidifier."

"Really?... I suppose I understand - we do want you to be happy."
She sighed and her chest heaved.

I tried to think of other things to say that would try Bridget's patience.

"And I want it to be hand delivered by you, when Mrs. Flusher is out getting groceries at Foodland."
"Get bent, perv," she said, I thought, rather lustily.

Long story short - this would require a change in prescription. This was duly received by the (well-endowed) Bridget a couple of days later, the fact of which she informed me by email. How modern Bridget is!

Fast forward a couple of days later when I was to show up for my 'fitting' and then this... "The  Blow-Med Elite Turbofan models with heated hose and removable humidifier's are plumb out of stock. So sorry!"

Another try a few days after that yielded the same result.

And as a result, here I am, my oxygen levels dangerously low, and I am 9 days closer to death by palatte asphyxiation than the last time I checked in here.

Pray readers, PRAY for the CPAPS-R-US suppliers to come through for me... I need a MIRACLE.
And maybe lunch with Bridget.




Tuesday, September 13, 2011

CPAP SHOPPING!

So, I went back to the sleep lab Sun night to test out the CPAP. Basically its like having a giant fan blowing in a tube up your nose all night. I'm sure I looked very attractive with the 14 electrodes on, broomstick up my ass, and 70s style fat kid braces head gear on holding the darth vader blower mask to my nose.

It was really hard to sleep with the goddamn thing on but I managed somehow. Very fitful. The good news is that it fixes the problem. My O2 levels stayed up where they should and the breathing stoppages, well, stoppaged.

Tomorrow I'm off to get my very own loser-blower and vader mask. I guess I better make friends with the thing, its probably going to save my life.

The very hot and lovely Nicky was there, she took good care of me, turning the blow rate up and down all night long. Really.

They have to find the right pressure level to keep my very large palate from blocking the life-giving airflow of life down to my air-sucking lungs.

Tomorrow I go lung- I mean CPAP- shopping. Good thing that the good government of Flusherville pays for 75% of these puppies - they are expensive.

On the other hand... it gives one pause as to why they would pay for them. Could it be that they keep patients out of emergency rooms and long term care facilities by avoiding heart attacks and strokes? Why else would the government show me this kind of CPAP-love???

I have more news too...

For I hold in my everlovin' inbox, a confirmation on Westjet to ride on, ride on, to the Holy Land Las Vegas, Nevada USA!!!!!

It will be a while but the anticipation is going to make this next trip super-duper sweet. We're looking at 9 weeks or so away and I can't fucking WAIT!




Sunday, September 11, 2011

Tonight's the night

It's a very emotional day around the world and particularly in the land of what I consider to be Canada's best friends, if not cousins.

On top of all that, I'm on my way to the Sleep Lab in Flusherville in about 40 minutes to get fitted for a Darth Vader mask and air supply to see if I can actually get a proper night's sleep for the first time in, oh, about 20 years.

The ever-hot Nicky will be slipping out of her Brazilian stewardesses uniform and into a white lab coat, and will no doubt help me sort this problem out. I love the way she cranks the pressure on my CPAP!!!!

At least I think I will love it, she'll be doing that throughout the night trying to figure out what it takes to force a few lungfuls past my very large male palate.

Wish me luck.




Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Back to the lab to see what's on the slab!

Apparently, I have more than a little snoring issue.

I'm actually getting woken a significant number of times per night, and my sleep is getting (how did they put it?) -messed up -  as often as 30 times an hour.

I stopped breathing in my sleep a lot - one time for over a minute.

Last I checked, I need breathing to live.

It's weird because I don't remember any of it. But it would explain a few things.

I guess I'm happy that they can treat this with a CPAP but I wonder what damage I've done over the years. And I wonder how much more of a smart-ass I could have been on the size 7 grommet line at North American if I'd had my full complement of oxygen each night.

Anyway, in a few nights I will be going back to the Flusherville sleep lab to find out what settings I need on the CPAP.

In cases you are wondering what a CPAP is, its basically an air hose and a mask that forces air into your airway to keep it from collapsing. I can't imagine that it is any different from trying to drink from a firehose but we'll see.

Apparently the CPAP is up to 97% effective and adds 15 years to your life. A sobering thought considering how many times I dismissed the idea that I might have severe sleep apnea. Notice I said 'up to' - is it like those banks of slots in Vegas that pay 'up to' 97%???

The good news is... I was able to book lucky bedroom number 3 on the same night the very soothing and quite attractive Nicky is on duty. 

If I ever wanted a woman to put a facemask on me and fill me full of sweet Brazilian stewardess humidified air - its Nicky.

Do you think I will be able to get her to read me a bedtime story this time???




Saturday, September 3, 2011

Sleep is important. So is breathing.

Well, I've been reading up on how to do things to my Nook Color and it looked pretty simple to buy a micro SD card, shove Android onto it, and jam it in the Nook so as to have a cheap Android tablet.


And you know what, it was!

I got this thing up and running as a tablet in a couple of hours. Now I can finally play those Angry Damn Birds I've been hearing about for so long.

Best part is, it leaves the Nook software intact - it's like two devices in one!

Chippy's teeth were looking pretty crusty in spite of our best efforts to regularly descale them - this is a romantic after dinner activity any couple could enjoy, btw. But it was time to take her to the Vet and have them really clean the insides, and maybe pull a few that have problems.

We took her down to the Flusherville Veterinary Service. It's easy to find - they are just in behind Dead Buck's Taxidermy shop ('For friends who are friends for ever').

I loaded Chippy up and wheeled through town, down to the edge of town, and crept by Dead Buck's into the Vet's parking lot.

We dropped her for the day and actually the news came back good. They put her out (temporarily) and gave her a good cleaning. Chippy's crowns are all worn down - as in completely gone. But no extractions were necessary. I am thinking about getting my next round of dental work done at the Vet's.

Chippy has two weeks of antibiotics to take - one pill twice a day. Peanut butter, struggling, and vice grips figure prominently in this ritual which I am starting to slightly enjoy. I think its the light dog slobber/peanut butter scent my fingers have afterward and its all I can do not to lick 'em clean.
The other thing she has is toothpaste. Sort of like Doggy Sensodyne. Except this toothpaste is not mint flavored - it is poultry flavored.

Mrs. Flusher is having her snooty euchre ladies over next Wednesday. I usually steer clear of 'em because frankly, they don't approve of me. In fact Lucy Snervens, who is herself about 80 pounds north of 'big boned' keeps poking me in the stomach and making comments about my 'Molson One-pack'. 

Come Wednesday, I'm going to slap some of this chicken goop on crackers and put it on the bridge table (next to the Bridge Mixture), if I can squeeze by Lucy Snerven's 'ass-floweth-over' butt saddlebags.

I know that Lucy loves pate.

Getting the chicken paste onto Chippy's crown-less choppers is another fun experience. It takes four goes at it, upper right, lower left, upper left, upper right. You put some chicken paste on your finger and try to apply it to the teeth while prying Chippy's jaw open with the other hand. Did you know that dogs have a jaw strength equivalent to one of those 6000 pound industrial presses we use and North American Veeblefetzer to pop out the size 7 grommets?

I count my fingers after every adventure with the chicken paste.

The other day, it was time to go and get the results from my hot night at the sleep lab with the sultry Brazilian ex-stewardess and now sleep-lab-bunny Nicky.

Frankly, it was a bit of a shock.

Actually, it was a huge shock.

And I'm not really quite sure how it is that I'm functioning. Or even alive for that matter.