(no subject)
Wow, talk about a Haitus. Actually, I think I won't.
So, for anyone who hasn't talked to me in the past month or so.. I've been diagnosed with sleep apnea. Severe sleep apnea, in fact. I think this might help to explain my lethargy in general, and lack of energy for posting in particular. How'd I find out, you ask, given that you were too tired to concentrate on why you were so tired? I'm glad you asked!
Two months or so ago, I spent a couple of nights not being able to breathe through my nose for some reason (in hindsight, probably simple congestion) and having difficulty sleeping because of it. I went in to check if I had a deviated septum, and if it could be keeping me from sleeping. (I'd finally decided it wasn't normal to be always tired, even given some of the habits I'll mention later.) This led to a sleep study, which led to the aforementioned diagnosis. As it turns out, my nose couldn't really cause apnea, since the body automatically resorts to the mouth if the nose isn't working to spec.
After the study, I was referred to a pulmonary specialist to prescribe me a CPAP machine, which is essentailly a compressor that blows air into your face all night, forcing your airways open and allowing you to sleep normally. That is, if you normally sleep next to a running vacuum cleaner. My uncle (also severely apneic) uses one--he says it changed his life.. and he still hates it.
The specialist noted that my O2 saturation got as low as 86% (vs. 99.5% she recorded while I was in her office) during the study and said that definitely qualified me for CPAP.
"Great," I said, "I'm thrilled to have a solution that will allow me to get enough rest. Still, I've heard there are surgical solutions to my kind of apnea (Obstructive Sleep Apnea). I'm only 25.. I've got lots of nights ahead of me filled with the sound of straining compressors, and I'll never heal as well as I do now. Plus, every doctor I've ever had has told me I have large tonsils.. could you examine them to see if their removal might help?"
"Sure," she said, grabbing a tongue depressor and scope, "just open up for a second, here.." at which point she recoiled from my mouth in horror, a look of shocked disbelief washing over her features. With a bemused grimace, she retreated to the wastebin, stripping off her gloves and tossing away the depressor.
"Yeah," she chuckled, "those might be part of the problem."
I'm seeing an Ear,Nose,and Throat specialist today about whether my gargantuan tonsils can be removed. Apparently, they were the largest the pulmonary specialist had ever seen. Yay, me. (The ENT guy will probably have them mounted or something, so he can brag to other ENT people)
Whatever the ENT guy says, it looks like my long saga of constant fatigue may finally be drawing to a close. It only remains to find out whether I can rest without the assistance of equipment. Looking back, I suspect it may have started in college, or perhaps even the end of high school. If that's the case, than I can barely remember what it feels like to be fully rested. I'm pretty sure, though, that it's going to be awesome.
Let this be a lesson to you kids: if they're a problem, have those tonsils out early.
I'm not really enthusiastic about surgery.. I'm just less enthusiastic about the alternative.
While I'm at it, I'll just jot down a few notes about my Monday. I'd been up far too late doing something I shouldn't (playing an RTS after not using my computer for games for nearly a month), so I decided to take a sick day. How late was I up, you may ask? Well, let me put it this way.. when I finally shut down the game, looked in horror at the time displayed in the lower right corner of the screen and threw myself into bed.. my window (the one with curtains, not scrollbars) was a deep, but illuminated blue.
The problem I tend to have with real-time strategy games is that they take real time. That's to say.. hours. I like to arrange my forces just so (before sending them to die by the hundreds), and it's easy to lose track of the time while doing so. Besides, there was just so much to experiment with in Supreme Commander! Hundreds of Units! Order queuing to a depth I wouldn't have believed! Unit customization and upgrades! *Pant Pant* The list goes on, though it was coupled with a somewhat clunky visual control scheme. How could I resist, especially when I hadn't indulged in nearly a month?
Anyway, after catching up on that lost sleep (until roughly 12:30, surprisingly), I went for lunch on Piedmont. While trying to decide which ethnicity of food I'd had the least of in the last week or so, I realized I was in front of a salon.. and I'd been told I should try getting a facial. Hmmm.
It was far less interesting than I expected, largely because A)Your eyes are closed the entire time, and B)Most of that time is spent lying on your back with a hot towel wrapped around your face. I don't think I've ever been charged so much for lying on a bench for an hour while someone else has their hair cut. After "the experience", I was cautioned not to touch my face for a bit (because it was so clean), and sent on my merry way, now incredibly hungry and considerably lighter of wallet. In retrospect, I probably should've gone after lunch.
But now, my nose and face look... roughly the same as before. I still have no idea how to counter what appears to be the innate buttery texture of my nose, but at least now I know that the professionals are just as helpless as I am.
So, for anyone who hasn't talked to me in the past month or so.. I've been diagnosed with sleep apnea. Severe sleep apnea, in fact. I think this might help to explain my lethargy in general, and lack of energy for posting in particular. How'd I find out, you ask, given that you were too tired to concentrate on why you were so tired? I'm glad you asked!
Two months or so ago, I spent a couple of nights not being able to breathe through my nose for some reason (in hindsight, probably simple congestion) and having difficulty sleeping because of it. I went in to check if I had a deviated septum, and if it could be keeping me from sleeping. (I'd finally decided it wasn't normal to be always tired, even given some of the habits I'll mention later.) This led to a sleep study, which led to the aforementioned diagnosis. As it turns out, my nose couldn't really cause apnea, since the body automatically resorts to the mouth if the nose isn't working to spec.
After the study, I was referred to a pulmonary specialist to prescribe me a CPAP machine, which is essentailly a compressor that blows air into your face all night, forcing your airways open and allowing you to sleep normally. That is, if you normally sleep next to a running vacuum cleaner. My uncle (also severely apneic) uses one--he says it changed his life.. and he still hates it.
The specialist noted that my O2 saturation got as low as 86% (vs. 99.5% she recorded while I was in her office) during the study and said that definitely qualified me for CPAP.
"Great," I said, "I'm thrilled to have a solution that will allow me to get enough rest. Still, I've heard there are surgical solutions to my kind of apnea (Obstructive Sleep Apnea). I'm only 25.. I've got lots of nights ahead of me filled with the sound of straining compressors, and I'll never heal as well as I do now. Plus, every doctor I've ever had has told me I have large tonsils.. could you examine them to see if their removal might help?"
"Sure," she said, grabbing a tongue depressor and scope, "just open up for a second, here.." at which point she recoiled from my mouth in horror, a look of shocked disbelief washing over her features. With a bemused grimace, she retreated to the wastebin, stripping off her gloves and tossing away the depressor.
"Yeah," she chuckled, "those might be part of the problem."
I'm seeing an Ear,Nose,and Throat specialist today about whether my gargantuan tonsils can be removed. Apparently, they were the largest the pulmonary specialist had ever seen. Yay, me. (The ENT guy will probably have them mounted or something, so he can brag to other ENT people)
Whatever the ENT guy says, it looks like my long saga of constant fatigue may finally be drawing to a close. It only remains to find out whether I can rest without the assistance of equipment. Looking back, I suspect it may have started in college, or perhaps even the end of high school. If that's the case, than I can barely remember what it feels like to be fully rested. I'm pretty sure, though, that it's going to be awesome.
Let this be a lesson to you kids: if they're a problem, have those tonsils out early.
I'm not really enthusiastic about surgery.. I'm just less enthusiastic about the alternative.
While I'm at it, I'll just jot down a few notes about my Monday. I'd been up far too late doing something I shouldn't (playing an RTS after not using my computer for games for nearly a month), so I decided to take a sick day. How late was I up, you may ask? Well, let me put it this way.. when I finally shut down the game, looked in horror at the time displayed in the lower right corner of the screen and threw myself into bed.. my window (the one with curtains, not scrollbars) was a deep, but illuminated blue.
The problem I tend to have with real-time strategy games is that they take real time. That's to say.. hours. I like to arrange my forces just so (before sending them to die by the hundreds), and it's easy to lose track of the time while doing so. Besides, there was just so much to experiment with in Supreme Commander! Hundreds of Units! Order queuing to a depth I wouldn't have believed! Unit customization and upgrades! *Pant Pant* The list goes on, though it was coupled with a somewhat clunky visual control scheme. How could I resist, especially when I hadn't indulged in nearly a month?
Anyway, after catching up on that lost sleep (until roughly 12:30, surprisingly), I went for lunch on Piedmont. While trying to decide which ethnicity of food I'd had the least of in the last week or so, I realized I was in front of a salon.. and I'd been told I should try getting a facial. Hmmm.
It was far less interesting than I expected, largely because A)Your eyes are closed the entire time, and B)Most of that time is spent lying on your back with a hot towel wrapped around your face. I don't think I've ever been charged so much for lying on a bench for an hour while someone else has their hair cut. After "the experience", I was cautioned not to touch my face for a bit (because it was so clean), and sent on my merry way, now incredibly hungry and considerably lighter of wallet. In retrospect, I probably should've gone after lunch.
But now, my nose and face look... roughly the same as before. I still have no idea how to counter what appears to be the innate buttery texture of my nose, but at least now I know that the professionals are just as helpless as I am.