Something started happening to me recently that I cannot believe I am about to discuss in public.
I’m snoring. And I don’t mean that cute little snuffle / purr that some people do. I am apparently full feral hog these days. Pretty, huh’? I feel SO attractive right now.
Like everyone, I will go through a little rough patch now and then from allergies, but that is usually over within a couple of days. Whatever is going on now has lasted about three months.
Think back to the trip to Wales. Imagine Sandy’s surprise in our shared hotel room. I had warned her in an earlier blog – but she didn’t believe me. When I awoke the first full day of our trip the conversation went something like this:
Sandy: “Peanut, I love you like a sister, which is why I can tell you this. You snore like a feral hog.”
Me: “I warned you. Why would I kid about that? That is not an attractive quality to have.”
Sandy: “I just couldn’t believe it. At one point during the night, I actually thought I was going to cry.”
Me: “Sorry. Snort.”
By the fifth night we had the whole routine down to a science. Sandy explained that every other night, I breathed steadily, if a bit raspy, but the OTHER nights I sounded as if I had the world’s worst cold and couldn’t breathe at all. Then I would STOP breathing. At that point she would crack an eye open and stare at me (probably not sure whether to wish me alive or not.) Suddenly, I would gasp (or snort) – perhaps not as delicately or as ladylike as one might wish, and start the whole thing over again.
This amount of “snore detail” was news to me. Hubby had mentioned my snoring. That conversation went something like this:
Hubby: “You’re snoring. Loudly. It’s gross. Stop it and be my pretty, non-snoring wife again. Or else.”
(That may or may not be a direct quote, but it was definitely IMPLIED.)
My doctor has recommended a sleep study. Apparently, aside from just making you an embarrassed and obnoxious roommate, snoring (Sleep Disordered Breathing – SDB) can cause the following *relational issues:
- Personality changes
- Decreased sex drive
- Loss of intimacy
- Clashes with the bed partner (spousal arousal syndrome)
(* SleepWell Solutions)
I like the term “spousal arousal syndrome.” Apparently this is the “spousal arousal” we do NOT want; the one that results in statements like “If you don’t stop snoring I am going to hold that pillow over your face until you suffocate for real,” and “How much life insurance do you have again? Maybe we should up it.”
I have already detected other *symptoms I am exhibiting lately, such as:
- Excessive daytime sleepiness. (Okay, I normally have this anyway, but still.)
- Poor memory or clouded intellect. (Thought it was either age, or a result of my “wasted” youth. – Nudge, nudge. Wink, wink.)
- Performance decrement. (No comment. I don’t like that word.)
- Inability to exercise. (Gee, I thought that was my innate laziness. How great I can now blame it on something else!)
- Becoming more prone to accidents. (Well, we’ve all covered that before haven’t we? – See paragraph, oh, around 10, in Confessions of a Frustrated Former Warlord.)
Other potential health problems include death. Death is definitely something I wish to avoid.
I think it should be pointed out that SleepWell Solutions is NOT where I am going for my sleep study, even though it is where I have gathered all this nifty information. I went to THEIR website instead of the company where my sleep study is actually taking place because THAT website frightened me silly.
How so? Let me show you the room in which my sleep study is likely to take place.
Oh, sorry. That was me.
Yeah, take a gander at that. It looks like someone’s dead grandmother’s room. A grandmother who was neither motherly nor grand.
She was definitely dead, though. And itchy.
(This reaction COULD be from having been exposed to actual interior design for the past ten years. Not to mention Max and Tony’s influence. But I think I would have been freaked out regardless.)
So you can see why I had to go to another website to collect information about my potential condition.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to sleep there. And if I do, I’m afraid I’ll have bigger issues than Sleep Disordered Breathing.
I’m going to ponder this situation. I have until next Wednesday to figure it out. Or to arrange for delousing on Thursday.
Dear Sleep Study Place,
May I bring my own bedding?
How about my own bed?
Sweet dreams, people.
3 thoughts on “JUST CALL ME PUMBA”
Yeah, I think there are monks that rock better cells than that room!!
You aren’t kidding. It looked just like that. That’s why when the subject of a return visit came up, I passed!
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