Sleeping With Darth Vader

So, my dear internet folks,  the hubby and I have added a new element to our bedroom. And no, eww, get your minds out of the gutter and away from any lewd references to “personal massagers” (yes, I’m looking at you Brookstone..who are you kidding?).  Anywho,  tonight my darling husband was supplied with his very own CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) machine!  Hence, the cleverly crafted title above.

Several months ago, the hubster reluctantly subjected himself to a sleep study, where he was outfitted with a zillion gadgets and monitored overnight during his sleep (of which he actually got little of).  After years of suffering through his nightly chorus of  earth-moving snoring (yes, this is ALL about me!), and of course let’s not forget the occasional stopping-of-the-breathing, he finally gave in to my (and the ENT’s) suggestions.  Needless to say, he stopped breathing something like 200 times that night and his snoring levels were off  the charts.  Diagnosis: sleep apnea.

Now, we (again, this is all about me and my needless suffering) have the CPAP and the hope is that through a direct & constant supply of oxygen, he will cease with the snoring and actually get a refreshing nights sleep…and not die from sleep apnea.  Not surprisingly, he was a bit hesitant – it certainly isn’t a very sexy contraption –to get it, but knows it was the only answer at this point.  Of course, as is this ever shifting venture called parenthood, he will not be giving the CPAP it’s maiden voyage tonight since our sick little peanut is currently lounging between us in bed, watching “The Bee Movie” on our beloved flat-screen, and will most likely stay there into the morning.  I’m positively certain I won’t be getting a good night’s sleep tonight!

(For those of you wondering, here is what the apparatus looks like…it’s really not THAT bad, certainly not as cumbersome as these machines used to be):





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