I have sleep apnea. Shocking, I know, that an overweight, middle-aged American woman might have such a thing, but I assure you, it’s true.
My apnea story isn’t one of those “…and suddenly I felt SO much better, I took up running and lost 50 pounds!” kind of stories. I didn’t even suspect I had apnea. I just always knew I wasn’t a “morning person.” I HATE getting up in the morning. My poor mom had to practically blast me out of bed every morning of my youth, and I still give my snooze button a workout.
When I started sharing a bed with B., he commented on my snoring, saying it wasn’t excessive, but was persistent. I told him, “It’s like a kitten purring. You’ll find it soothing.” He didn’t have any dramatic stories about me stopping breathing, so I wasn’t worried. But I finally started wondering if I shouldn’t wake up feeling more refreshed in the morning, like a normal person. So I did a sleep study.
For those of you who haven’t done it, sleep studies are no fun whatsoever. It’s a lot like checking into a hotel, until they strap 19 electrodes on you and tell you that they’ll be watching and listening to you from their booth all night. Oh, and if you need to go to the bathroom, just say something – they’ll hear it – and will come in and unstrap you from the monitors.
I sleep on my stomach and I couldn’t really get into my normal sleeping position during the study, but managed to drop off for a few hours (5.25 according to their records). Enough, at least, for them to determine that I was having about nine apnea episodes an hour that were keeping me from getting to REM sleep. I never wake myself completely, just kept myself out of deep sleep. The few minutes I dropped into REM sleep, I had 22 apnea episodes! And yet, this is considered mild apnea.
I learned from my new sleep doctor that folks with untreated apnea are twice as likely to die of a heart attack than those who are treated, or who have no apnea. That got my attention. So I got a CPAP. For those of you unfamiliar with that particular acronym (for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure), this is the name of the torture device that is choice #1 for apnea treatment (or at least it was 3 years ago). It’s a machine with a 6 foot hose attached to a face mask that you strap to your head to blow air up your nose all night. This somehow keeps your throat from closing while you sleep. It’s as fun as it sounds. It’s like sleeping in scuba gear – and just as sexy. For a stomach sleeper like myself, it was nearly impossible to sleep with, but I tried for three months, usually waking to find it sighing softly on the pillow next to me.
I was referred to Dr. A., my wonderful sleep dentist, who fit me for an oral appliance that holds my lower jaw forward just enough to keep my throat tissue from sagging while I sleep. I took to it immediately (although it gives me a monkey-faced look, also not sexy), and found subtle, yet consistent improvements in my life – increased energy, less horror about getting up in the morning, fewer morning headaches, etc.
The appliance is fitted to your teeth, so since I started the process of getting my new teeth, I’ve had to sleep without it. I thought I was doing pretty well during those three months, although in August and September I had some back problems that didn’t really going away. I was stressed out at work, and had a short fuse. None of this seemed serious or sleep related – and maybe they weren’t, who knows?
But here’s the thing: last week I got my new appliance, a cunning little lavender model, and even though it’s pinching a bit and needs some adjustments – voila! No more back pain, more energy, no headaches, happy to be alive, etc., etc. Yet another subtle miracle wrought through the magic of REM sleep!
If you’ll excuse, me, it’s my bedtime!
NOTE: Dr. A. says that many insurance companies are now recognizing OAT (oral appliance therapy) as the first protocol for treating apnea, rather than the CPAP. That’s good – maybe my insurance will pay for it this time!
