I know I already used this title from the classic Everly Brothers song elsewhere on this page, but I like to think Don and Phil are eminently gracious and generous guys - born as they were in another era - and they (hopefully) don't mind. Anyhoo - this reference isn't about me dreaming about ground piloting a Lingenfelter Performance Engineering massaged Corvette at near obscene speeds across a day long Texas road - top down, tunes up, grin wide. *sigh - drool*
Nope, I'm riffing on the fact that for nearly 5 years - maybe longer - I have not been dreaming. This has been due to the fact that I have been suffering from severe obstructive sleep apnea. Yep, according to the results of my polysomngraphy test - taken just over 2 weeks ago at the Regina General Hospital Sleep Disorders Laboratory - my brain was trying to wake me up 130 times an hour so I could breathe!
Sheesh!
I know I can be persistent and annoying, but I had hoped that less-than-charming facet of my personality would be damped down a bit while I am unconscious (or semi-unconscious). But, hey! Wherever you go - there you are! The practical upshot of my brain seeking oxygen with such vigor was that I couldn't experience all the levels of sleep - REM sleep being one notable level I haven't visited in a looonnngggg time!
I hadn't dreamed in so long I wasn't even getting reminders anymore - like that guy in the TV ad about sleep disorders. My dreams weren't hanging out in my kitchen or office complaining that I never spent time with them anymore. Evidently they had simply left me a note saying;
"Dear Brian,
Well we're pretty much totally frustrated here so we decided to move to a retirement community in south Florida. If you decide to look us up our phone number is 786-32X-XXX5*. Call sometime, schmuck!
Pleasant dreams.
NOT!"
You know you're in trouble when your dreams abandon you!
Well I got my CPAP unit a week ago Tuesday and I'm back to dreaming, sleeping, waking up not feeling dead and getting through the whole day without falling asleep in the afternoon. I use a Mirage Swift pillow-style mask. It's fairly unobtrusive, but we're getting used to it. I say "we" because for the last couple of years my snoring and stopping breathing was not just interrupting my sleep but my wife's sleep too. We actually have slept in separate rooms for almost one year.
The first night we were so unused to being together we thought the bed had shrunk - 'cause we sure couldn't admit we might have gotten bigger, eh?!? And we actually spent 3 days shopping for and considering moving up to a king from a queen-sized mattress. But a week has gone by now and things are settling down. We seem to have re-accommodated each other and we are happy to be "together" again. The last year was one of those challenges in marriage they don't warn you about.
While I'm on a personal health note here I've also found something to help me with my tinnitus. Actually, I haven't gotten a proper diagnosis of that, despite seeing an ear specialist over a year ago. The whole experience with him was quite disappointing.
*Digressive Commentary - If I had a reasonable amount of compensation for every time we have used the term "quite disappointing" in reference to health care since we have moved to Flatland I suspect we'd be nearly debt free. Whatever you think is wrong with your local health care system just amp it up a few orders of magnitude and you'll get the picture of what it's like on a daily basis here. I call it "Your tax dollars in inaction." - End Digression.*
He told me I had chronic listening fatigue and that I also had some considerable loss in mid and high frequencies in my left ear - something I already knew. My prescription? Wear earplugs while driving! For that this guy gets a six figure income! Sheesh!
Thus I was left to self-diagnose. I may not have full-blown tinnitus but I have enough symptoms to suggest a mild case or possible Meniere's Disease. The reality for me was that the hissing, rushing sound in my ears was getting so loud I was having trouble hearing, especially voices in ambiently noisy conditions. This was getting really traumatic for me because I am a HUGE music lover and the thought of losing the ability to rest in the arms of my musical muse was chilling to say the least.
I once got into a heated debate with my mother-in-law about whether it would be worse to be blind or deaf. I'd take blindness if I had to choose. I might not be able to see, but I could still hear the voices of the ones I love, experience the music that moves and motivates me and communicate with others relatively easily. In fact, it would probably make me a better listener - something I have been told many times I need to work on, and I do.
So one night I'm watching Jeopardy - God love Alex Trebek - and on comes an ad for a product called Lipo-Flavinoid. Well faster than you can say "Google that" I'm doing online research, a couple of hours later I'm ordering some and now I'm blogging that I'm already feeling better after only taking this stuff for a few days. The websites say I should take this product regularly for at least 6 months, but I'm sure I've already experienced some relief. And you can't get this in Canada. Pity. Again our socialist, government-controlled, big-business friendly wonky health care system does not fail to disappoint.
Nevertheless, it seems the internet has just given me a new reason not to write it off as nothing more than a cesspool of porn and self-indulgence in that I can order life-altering substances online for reasonable prices - thanks to a buoyant Canadian dollar - and have them shipped to me with a minimum of fuss. All that and I can find out of print books, comics and lps - maybe I'll let the internet live after all.
And now all I have to do is dream. Dream about being rested and re-energized as I learn to sleep and dream again. And I can dream of a day - hopefully soon - when I can clearly hear all the subtleties in a song, the delicacy of a bird call, or the words spoken by my wife, or son, or friend. Now I all have to do is dream that my dreams have not abandoned me and that nightmares are not all that lies before me. And praise God, it seems some of my dreams may be coming true, soon.
Shalom
*Pursuing it.*
*Sharing it.*
*You know if I hadn't put those X's in that made up phone number some goof would have tried to dial it.
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2 comments:
"it seems the internet has just given me a new reason not to write it off as nothing more than a cesspool of porn and self-indulgence"
Just one question did you count your blog as part of that cesspool? :D
Glad to hear that the snakeoil is working for you. Sorry to hear that you were so desperate for relief. The joy of ministry in flatland is knowing that if you and your church have been prayerful and diligent, then we are not just leftovers. With God's guidance we come to ministry in the best place. Unlike some doctors who get placed on who might hire them. The Mayo Clinic can only support so many doctors then there are the leftovers. Perceptions of the flatland do not encourage doctors to come here. Which unfortunately leaves us with a hodge podge. Some good doctors and some doctors who feel that there is nowhere else to go.
Thank you for noticing my feeble attempt at irony. While not "cesspoolish" per se, my blog definitely does belong in the "self-indulgent" end of the pool.
The "snake-oil" is a little more "oil" - as in "that which can be poured upon troubled waters to calm them" - and much less "snake" than you might imagine. The US FDA has approved it and the manufacturers can make legitimate, albeit careful, claims about its properties and effectiveness.
My snarky ripostes regarding the health care system in Saskatchewan are unfortunately my own sinful discouragement and frustration bubbling over. I will not, however, play the "Pollyanna" and say all is well either. It is difficult to strike the correct balance.
Yesterday I saw a man miraculously transformed and healed by treatment in one of our beleaguered hospitals. That is not to say that the Lord God Almighty was not ultimately responsible for his deliverance - for I do absolutely believe that this is the truth. We prayed together for many months, and he prayed and suffered alone for much longer, but he has been freed in dramatic fashion. Hallelujah!
Nevertheless, we are on the verge of another strike by the same health care union as was on strike for 4 weeks the year we moved here (2002), and our personal experiences have been less than encouraging. Thus I rail and flail in hopes of stirring up some action. Hardly Christian of me, but decidedly human.
Your gentle correction is gratefully noted brother. I should "rail and flail" in love (if I must), otherwise I achieve nothing (1 Corinthians 13). Perhaps the best that can come from my blogging is that some may discover that not only can some Christians have feet of clay, but they can also be aware of that fact, and still be convinced that the Lord's love and mercy will remain in Christ.
I shall pray for new feet.
Shalom
*Seeking that elusive "attitude of gratitude".*
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