Tag: relationships

Sleepless in St. Louis: Diagnosis Apnea

It’s official. My husband has sleep apnea.

Goodnight Moon

I have known this for at least seven years. Now he believes it too. Why? After a sleep study during which he stopped breathing more than 100 times per hour, the doctor told him oh yes, he has a most severe case.

Repeat the rule after me. Listen to your spouse. Listen to your spouse.

My husband insisted for much of the past seven years he didn’t need to go to the doctor. His condition was genetic. He couldn’t help it. He was born this way. Comes from a long line of short, fat, snoring, German men.

All this despite the fact he stands six feet tall and his father is taller. So much for the short, fat, German man defense.

But my father-in-law snores too. I acquiesced to the genetic excuse for a while.

Then I got mad. A counselor friend tells me it’s easier to be angry than to be afraid. She’s on to something.

I was afraid. I am afraid my husband will drop dead of a condition that is absolutely treatable.

In the middle of the night, he will have a stroke or a heart attack and be gone. Or in a state of cataclysmic sleep deprivation, he will fall asleep at the wheel and die in a crash. It happens. Poof! Just like that. Gone.

You can’t hide tired forever. Eventually chronic sleep deprivation shows.

My husband, once unable to stop talking, now was unable to carry on a conversation. The man who once relished reading with his little boy now was unable to stay awake past the first few pages.

We were losing him even though he was still living here with us.

my hopping mad little tent

At that point I was terrified, so I got hopping mad.

And that is where I camped out for a while. Seething in my anger. All by myself in my hopping mad little tent. Alone.

That is also where my lesson comes in.

No more seething alone. I need to say what I need to say before the quiet repression begins and the situation balloons into a major crisis. Cue John Mayer.

my skinny little foot in Kenneth Cole

When I finally put my skinny little foot down and called the sleep clinic and drove him to the appointment, my husband got the diagnosis I expected.

His doctor prescribed a sleep machine. It is helping. Immensely. Miraculously.

Of course the only model that works for my him is the most complicated and expensive one.

Funny thing. He didn’t use that as an excuse to bail.

This time I wasn’t going to let him. After all these years, every day and night, we’re still learning our lessons.

Be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other’s faults because of your love. Ephesians 4:2 TLB

In his book Questions & Answers About Sleep Apnea, Dr. Sudhansu Chokroverty, MD, FRCP, FACP, reports 15-20 million people in the United States suffer from sleep apnea. Want more information? Mayo Clinic, The National Institutes of Health, and The New York Times are excellent places to start online. My husband will even email with you about his experience if you like. Contact everyday epistle at att dot net. And please consult your doctor.

Dear Nora Ephron, thank you for Sleepless in Seattle. Who’d have guessed your film along with Pearl Jam and Nirvana would lure masses of Gen-Xers to Seattle in the early 90s. They stayed for Starbucks and ended up with Twilight vampire children who settled across the way in Forks. (Did I just write that? I think I need to get some sleep.)

Posted on by Aimee 9

Men and Women and the Curse of the Want

During spring break we stayed a night with dear friends. Their eldest Eliza, nearly four, was thrilled to have our Theo, age six, as a play date.

mighty engine

Theo was thrilled to have Eliza’s massive wooden train set and open family room where he, my husband and Eliza’s dad could build the mother of all tracks.

Eliza played trains too, for about three minutes. Then the wooing began.

“Feo,” she said. Most preschoolers cannot yet pronounce the th sound, so they replace it with the f sound.

“Feo, let’s play veterinarian.”

Feo did not answer. He was busy fashioning a railroad crossing.

Eliza was undeterred. She stood near the stuffed animals calling. “Feo. Feo? Play veterinarian with me.”

Still no answer. She tried another approach.

Lodging herself in her younger sibling’s walker, she pretended to be stuck.

“Feo, help! Feo, help me get out! Feo! FEO!” Ah, the damsel in distress.

Feo, now engrossed in bridge building, could not be bothered.

Eliza’s mom chimed in. “Eliza,” she said. “You can get yourself out.”

“Feo, help me!” said Eliza.

“Theo, Eliza needs you,” I said. “Will you help her get out of the walker, please?”

My little prince obeyed his queen mum, dutifully leaving his venture to assist. Once Eliza was freed from peril, he marched back to resume construction.

Eliza did not give up. “Feo,” she said. “Feo, let’s play dolls now. Feo?”

Silence down the line, except for the muffled clinking of wooden tracks fitted together over carpet on the trek to the other side of the family room.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Eliza grabbed none other than Cinderella. She shoved the doll right between Theo’s eyes and said, “Feo! Cinderella needs to tell you something!”

Her mother and I shook our heads, both understanding all too clearly the plight of this little princess.

“She’s sooo relational,” said her mother. Aren’t we all, ladies?

In Genesis God lays out the consequences for Adam and Eve’s willful disobedience. The overarching consequence is death, but there is other fallout.

For example, right after God tells Eve she will have pain in childbirth, He says she will want for her husband and he will rule over her. The usual interpretation I’ve heard umpteen times in church is that women will want to dominate men, while God requires men to lead.

I get that. But I wonder. Maybe the woman’s want for the man is really a want for the man. Not to lord over him, but to relate to him.

It’s my gorgeous friend describing how she undressed and danced in front of the TV, unsuccessful in her attempt to tear her husband away from the football game.

It’s Scarlett realizing her love for Rhett in Gone With the Wind when he slams the door in her face. (Correction: Rhett walks out the open door and disappears into the foggy night. It’s a slam all the same.)

It’s Eliza’s unrelenting calls to Feo.

Men, pay attention. This one’s free. Throw your woman a bone of interaction and you’ll chip away at the curse in your house.

Give her your undivided attention as you would a dearly loved treasure, and watch the curse shatter like glass on the tracks of a mighty engine.

Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you. Genesis 3:16 NIV

Sanctus Real’s powerful song Lead Me is not to be missed. Click here to listen.

Posted on by Aimee 14