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"But gee Mark, is it sexy?"
I mentioned to you a few post back that I have recently regained my memory.
I wish I could tell you a heart warming story about how I was bonked on the head when I was on my 110 foot schooner in the Mediterranean Sea. How I passed out and fell into the murky depths and almost drowned. How my loving wife bravely jumped into the deadly, shark-infested waters (risking not only life, but limb too) in order to save me from the watery grave. I wish I could tell you about the many months my loving family waited with bated breath around my hospital bed while I lay in the nether world of a coma. How on the 131st day of that coma I awoke, not being able to remember my name or any of the events of my past, my mind was a slate wiped clean from the trauma. I wish I could tell you about the undying dedication of my wife, beside me every waking moment, trying to coax even the faintest whispers of a recollection of times past. I wish I could tell you of the tears of joy of my first eureka moment. The day that I started remembering again. The day when my arch-nemesis "amnesia" had given up the ghost! That day I started living again, born anew!
Yeah. I wish I could tell you all about it. But it didn't happen like that, and I don't have that good of an imagination.
My lapse in memory wasn't quite that pretty, or sudden.
Actually, my memory started failing at the ripe, old age of 32. It started fairly gradually. I'd be misplace my wallet every now and then. Or I'd forget an appointment, a telephone number, a deadline, or a birthday.
Later on I started forgetting names and faces of people. People I knew. There were times I had to actually stop and think of my daughter's name. That's one thing that should be reflexive.
Then the memory lapses started getting critical. I couldn't remember what I had eaten an hour before. Whether or not I shampooed my skull when I got out of the shower. I would have panic attacks because I couldn't remember if I had locked the door to the office (one night... actually morning, I drove back downtown just to be sure). Another time I had a near breakdown cause I couldn't find Rene Zellweger (alias for my daughter). I was supposed to pick her up at school and she wasn't there. I couldn't find her. I searched everywhere and couldn't find her. I ran into the school's office and put out an A.P.B. on my fifth grader! I was a trembling mass of goo, when her teacher walked up to me and said she "isn't she at Brownies today?". I immediately called over to the "Brownie HQ" and sure enough, she was there. I hugged her teacher for at least two minutes. There's nothing that'll mess with my head worse than the thought of something happening to my kid! I cried.
At first Leslie would joke about the problem. Then it became a nuisance for her. For God's sake the woman was living with a goldfish.
I would be in the middle of a sentence and "blank out" then start doing something else. Completely oblivious that I was even in a conversation. It was scary!
The cool thing about it though, the "silver-lining" if you will... I never had to watch reruns. Every time I watched a show on TV, I was seeing it for the first time.
Of course not being real doctors, but playing one on the Internet. Leslie and I had diagnosed early alzheimers, as well as brain cancer, not to mention three different types of encephalitis. I checked with my doctor and she said "not to worry, it happens as we age!" As we age?!?! I'm in my mid-thirties... I haven't AGED!!! Go to hell.
I even checked with a shrink. Just to be sure. Nope. There were no signs of alzheimers, no cancer, no viruses, nothing at all to indicate why I was losing my mind. It had truly become a quality of life issue.
One day Leslie came across an article where someone had similar memory problems. Come to find out this guy suffered from sleep apnea. Sleep apnea? I mean sure, Leslie would bitch at me from time to time because I would wake her from my snoring. That's really putting it kind of light, we were sleeping in seperate counties because of my snoring. But, I didn't think it was anything serious.
Out of curiosity, as well as being at my wit's end, I called a local sleep center, they recommended that I come in for a consultation and then a sleep study. The visit and the sleep study was covered by insurance so I figured I'd give it a try.
The sleep-study was an effort. The technicians wire you up to 20 - 30 electrodes. They tape wires all over your head, neck, chest, arms and legs. Then they give you a few commands via intercom to make sure you're "comin' in loud and clear." I felt like a rhesus monkey being readied for a space launch (or product testing). Anyway, after the wire job is finished you're asked to fall asleep. Oh did I mention that they watch your every move on an "see in the dark" closed circuit tv camera. I woke up a couple of times with my hand on "thunder". I was so embarrassed.
When the study was over I went home, then went to work like any other day. A week or so later I went back to the doctor's office. This is the part where where he goes over the details of the study.
I thought I had passed with flying colors.
WRONG!
On average I would quit breathing 55 times an hour! At times for more than a minute.
You do the math. Hell I could've slept with a tennis ball in my mouth and two marbles up my nose and gotten more air!
Diagnosis: SEVERE SLEEP APNEA!
Cure: CPAP! It's an air compressor for your nose.
Fast-Forward to today...
Now, when I crawl into bed I put on my "snorkel" and sleep like a dead yak. It only took about 19 seconds to get used to it.
"But gee Mark, is it sexy?" you ask.
Wha' hell yeah! Leslie loves it! Not only does she have the brilliantly talented, and conversational man that she fell in love with... but I don't run out of breath!
Now, I can remember all sorts of shit. I even remember watching The Banana Splits and the Land of the Lost. Damned those bug-eyed "Sleestaks"! Man, what'n (the old) SuperStation Channel 17 cool!
1/27/2004 09:51:50 PM
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