I found out recently, through a home Sleep Apnea test, that I have extremely severe Sleep Apnea.
I kind of knew that I had it, but previous tests had shown it to be fairly mild.
I don’t understand what made it worsen.
My blood oxygen levels went down to 74% at one point.
30 incidents of sleep apnea in one night is considered to be serious. I had 72.
This means that my breathing is being obstructed partially at times, and completely at other times, by my tongue. Weird, eh? It’s disturbing too. Especially because I don’t know how long this has been going on, and I’ve failed to use a CPAP machine, which keeps your airways open, for a decade, now.
My very kind and patient partner has been dealing with my intense snoring for 10 years.
Lately, when he’s aware that I’ve stopped breathing, he shakes me, and exclaims, “You’re on your back!”
It’s not nearly as bad when I’m sleeping on my side.
So, interesting to know.
I’m getting fitted for a new mask this coming Tuesday, and will sleep overnight in Rogue Medical’s Sleep Center, on Thursday. There, they will figure out how much air pressure it takes to keep my airways open.
It should be an enlightening experience.
Discovering that my sleep is being interfered with, 72 times a night is eye-opening.
I am hopeful, that actually using the CPAP that I have, once it is adjusted to its’ appropriate settings, will improve my health all the way round.
I don’t want to set my expectations too high, as I have other illnesses, that also cause fatigue. But, I cannot imagine that sleeping properly each night won’t make me feel better, in some small ways, at the very least.
Soon my significant other will not have to deal with my snoring. It should be cured completely, by the CPAP machine.
He only will have to listen to the Darth Vader noises that the machine makes. I’m praying that he doesn’t see this as more undesirable, than my snoring was…
Thankfully, I have my own separate bedroom to retreat to.
I think that when my snoring stops, he’ll sleep better, too. Perhaps he’ll feel better, and snap at me less often.
I can always hope.