In Which I Wallow In Self Pity

Don't say you haven't been warned. This is a pity party here, and since it's my party, I'll cry if I want to.

Yup, that's right--we're going to be talking CPAP again.

Previously, we learned that the machine I had was not, in fact, working at all, and was exchanged (after FAR too long) for one that actually varied its air pressure. Not willing to be made a chump in the same way AGAIN, I took the new Damn Machine into be checked after about 10 days.

Yes, the thing was working. Yes, it was recording data. In fact, the data was so clear that the technician grabbed the doctor out of his discussion of fantasy football and showed him the data. And he decided that it would work to switch to a non-variable setting machine. The fixed setting would be 13, which coincidentally? was exactly half way through the range of variable settings I had before.

Not to bemoan lost opportunities, or anything, BUT--the first doctor who read the results of my sleep study IN JUNE had recommended a fixed pressure of 12, which would have avoided all these months of non-data collecting, and non-variable variable pressure, and would have gotten me to almost the exact place I am now after THREE DAMN MONTHS.

This is where it is a good thing that the antidepressants work, or we'd be looking at some serious scar tissue right now, and that makes wearing a watch so irritating.

Anyway, things should be looking up now, right. Because:

1. I'm home with a new machine that is supposed to provide the exact right level of air pressure for me.
   
2. We got a cold front, so the nights are cool and comfortable--perfect sleeping weather.
3. Last night was the first night I felt that I was actually sleeping without fighting the mask and trying to get comfortable.

So good, right? Should be a good night's sleep, and the start of feeling better. I woke up, got the kids to school, and came back and went back to bed, as I wasn't really finished with the job of rest. To be a Do-Bee, I even put the Damn Mask back on and napped with it, in the hopes that unobstructed sleep would mean actually waking up refreshed after a reasonable amount of time.

When I did wake up, naturally, the dog bounded over, greeting my wakefullness a bit more frantically than usual. Because it was bloody 1:50 in the afternoon! Poor animal's bladder was knocking, because I managed to sleep over twelve hours before I woke up.

I hope that is just because I am still sleep deprived, because 12 hours of sleep is hard to fit in, and not any improvement over what I had before all this nonsense. It's just not very encouraging at all. I mean, why should I struggle with the Damn Machine and everything just to need as much sleep as I needed before? I can only hope that as time goes on, I need less sleep, and that the sleep is more restful for me, and that it reverses all the ill health effects that sleep deprivation can cause. Like weight gain, risk of stroke, heart diseases, etc.

The only entry over on the plus side of the entry at this point, is that I have managed to lose 6 pounds. Is it related? It's too early to tell, but it's enough to keep me going for now.