The Sleep Clinic: part 3

I went to back to the sleep clinic "one last time." They used this visit to fit me with a CPAP mask. Yay.The first part of the evening was the same as the last time. Howard acted like he didn't even know me. Nothing. Heartless.This time they strapped a Vader mask on me that covered my nose. It was connected to a 6 foot long hose which plugged into the CPAP machine and blew warm moist air into your nose. It's this air pressure that keeps your airway open. You must keep your mouth closed with this type of mask, othewise the air escapes. This presents a interesting side effect: you can't talk while you're wearing the mask.They wanted to determine how much pressure was needed to keep me from snoring. As I slept, Howard and friends monitored my sleep (well, snoring), and slowly increased the air pressure until I stopped snoring.I was pretty uncomfortable, but I was able to fall asleep. (The mask is really for my <shameless_blog_plug>wife</shameless_blog_plug>. I have no trouble sleeping but she keeps insisting that I snore.)

In the middle of the night I woke up in a panic. I thought is was 6:00AM, but it was only 11:45PM. Shit. The CPAP machine was blowing a phenomenal amount of air into my nose and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Funny...'cause I certainly had plenty of air.

I tried to pull the mask off, but the head strap stopped me. It was too dark to see, so I couldn't find the clip to release the strap. Fuck!

I couldn't talk. I opened my mouth to call for help, and all of the air came gushing out. I felt like I could've floated a ping pong ball over my mouth. Bernoulli would've been proud.

Anyway, I knocked on the headboard, which is sort of the international signal for panic in a sleep clinic. A voice came over the intercom. "Yes John?" Can't talk. Can't talk! I waved with my free hand. Don't panic. Don't panic! OK, panicking! My other hand was busy trying to rip the fucking mask off my head. "I'll be right there John..."

Nurse Betty came to my rescue and pressed the release clip on my mask. The mask came flying off...Whoosh!

me: "What the hell? Is the machine broken or something?!"
Betty: "We were experimenting with a pretty high pressure..."
me: "What was the pressure setting?"
Betty: "11"How Spinal Tap-ian.

me: "11 what?"
Betty: "Oh, I don't know. It's just set at 11."

I pictured all of those third-shift jackasses watching me on the monitor and making bets on what air pressure level would wake me up. 'Cause it was Monday and they were bored. I fuckin' hate this place. 11. The max pressure was 11. Did you win Howard?

Dyslexic flare-up: I never actually saw the word CPAP written until I was asked to fill out a questionnaire in the morning. Wherever they used the word CPAP I read it as CRAP. It was pretty amusing. "Did sleep better on CRAP?" "Did the CRAP mask fit properly?"