Sleep Fun

“Doc, are you telling me this sucker is nuclear?”  -Marty

I haven’t posted in a while, so to my two readers that regularly check in- sorry.

One of the bigger events in my life, huge to my close relatives- useless information to deer and other forest dwellers, is that I have been attacking my sleep apnea aggressively. Plan A, which was to get a bouncer at Durty Nellies to punch me in the nose wasn’t as appealing as plan G. The plans in between are all half written in drunken languages all ending with stick figures drawn in crayons and fart jokes.

Plan G is one of fluent english, no animation and authored by my mother. (which explains the former) The long and short is that I was to see a doctor about my sleep apnea. This deserves some back story…

When I 19, I was in college. When you go to college, most of the time, you get a roommate. Well my roommate, A Good Man Named Nate, hated my snoring. My mother taking sympathy set me up with an ENT out of NorthWest Community Hospital (aka Shit Bin). Dr. Libinononwikcicktizz said that I had a deviated septum. That’s when one of your nostrils is blocked pretty bad because the inside or your nose is crooked. (See below for the Carrie and Ellie definition) So we did the sleep study and found nothing… I didn’t snore, I didn’t die in my sleep- these are the two things they look for in a sleep study at Shit Bin. That has changed.

5 years later…

Dr. C, is an ENT doctor (Ear Nose Throat) referred to me by several friends of mine, including J-Bro. I had set up an appoint to meet with him and finally get this sleep problem thing done. He is a young doctor, brilliant by referral, off the market for you ladies. Visiting him meant I had to step out of the suburbs to someplace I don’t go very often.

The campus of Northwestern University Hospital is sprawled across 5 to 6 blocks of down town Chicago. You can park there… it costs your $45 an hour but with the nice voucher they give you its an easy $20. At street level you are dwarfed by tall buildings and crowed by people that look like they live in the city. You exit the parking garage and go to a nice building where on the 15th floor, you enter the Northwestern Nasal Thingy. You can find it because the door handles are cleverly shaped like a nose… don’t say anything about it to the admins at the desk- they are impervious to charm.

Dr. C, who is with out humor and after my first appointment decidedly hates me, said my nose was messed up pretty bad. Then he looked down my throat and saw Pepe and Johnson- my testicles that had gone to the roof of my mouth after slipped on play ground equipment as a child. By testicles,  I mean tonsil-cles- they are bigger than normal by 2 deviations. No doctor had told me this before, I was flattered until he told me that I am breathing out of a stirring straw at night…

and left untreated my chances of making it to 30 years old would be dim…

 

TO BE CONTINUED…

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