“Diver Down”

Its official, I’m getting old. After turning 50 in February I am racking up the frequent flyer miles to the doctor’s offices and I’m not thrilled about these flights. First they put me on cholesterol medicine. You know your getting old when the conversations with your buddies turn from your athletic abilities or youthful escapades to what is the name of your cholesterol medication. And it’s kind of like golf in that you take a strange sense of pride if your milligrams are lower than what they have to take.

Then they signed me up for a colonoscopy. It was not near as bad as some made it out to be, but just the same it won’t bother me not to wait another 10 years for round two of “here’s looking up your ole address”.

When I went for my five year annual check up I realized my wife had flanked me. Dr. Cox had been telling me for a year or so that I had sleep apnea and needed a sleep study. Like a well trained husband I ignored her diagnosis. So while at the doctor’s office herself one day she told our doctor about her diagnosis. So at my five year annual check up our doctor warned me about sleep apnea and recommended a sleep study. Realizing the two were in cahoots, I knew I was whipped. Two sleep studies later it was confirmed, I have sleep apnea.

The treatment for sleep apnea is a machine that blows air into a hose. This hose is hooked to a mask that has to be worn while you sleep. I got my device this week and it was a little like getting a new car. The saleslady proclaimed the wonders of the latest model, Model #9, like a car salesman. It’s sleek and shiny, looking somewhat like a Bose stereo. It has all the bells and whistles. The Swift FX mask, with pillows, has the latest comfort designs on the market. I thought about asking how many miles to a gallon (distilled water) it gets.

I have several friends that have these machines and mask to help them sleep. Some proclaim them the best thing since sliced bread, while some say they wouldn’t even make a good boat anchor. I must confess that while traveling with some of these fellows I have teased them about their bedtime accessories. They put on their mask, hook up their hoses and fire up the oxygen tank. They look like scuba divers getting ready for the big plunge. When bedtime rolled around for them I would howl “diver down” and chuckle as I crawled mask less into my bed.

Well those days of teasing my buddies are over. I have joined their ranks and from now on, Simply Put, it’s diver down for me too.
From the Front Porch: Coach said never tell anyone your problems to anyone…20% of them don’t care and the other 80% are glad you have them.