The Unexpected Gift

 I can't fully describe the depth of gratitude that I feel ... but because I write, I'll try to begin. 

The last few weeks have been a blur of being surrounded by the love, support, encouragement, and generosity of people. Some I barely know. Others, I have known for years, even decades. And yet, it blows me away every time someone reaches out with offers of help, with food, chores, and yes, money.

In such a time of need, a couple of my friends decided to create a GoFundMe page in my name. They asked me for a photo of my husband, which I am showing here:

 

This guy.  This guy is my heart, my soul, my life. He's my very best friend on this earth. And I'm his best friend too. We've been married for only 45 years this past June. I was counting on 70. And ... maybe I'll get it, and enjoy every last moment. Of all the recent photos I have of him, this is my favourite because it was the week right after he got his 2nd cataract operation done (May 2026) and he could see me clearly from five feet away. Before, I had to get six inches away for him to make out my features. 

I won't repeat what is in the GoFundMe page, but I'll include the link to it so that you can see for yourself that we are in need of help to make whatever time he has with us worth living with respect to his quality of life. We've been making do with a little 5 foot by 7 foot bathroom, the only one in the house. And now, he can't take a shower in it (because he is afraid of falling in the slippery tub-shower). And the Integrated Palliative Care team occupational therapist can only recommend a bath transfer bench that allows him to sit on the edge of the tub and put his feet in there. Like an invalid. Like some 90-year-old doddering old man. He's not even 74 yet. 

So without further ado, I will share the link to the fundraiser here which will open in a new window for you. Please visit the page and look at the story. With the price of everything going up exponentially in the last year or so, (THANKS tRump!) the cost of materials and labour has skyrocketed. And please keep in mind that donations to GoFundMe are quite possibly tax-deductible when you do your income taxes.

And that is all I have to say at the moment. Please share this post and/or the link to as many platforms as you can. More people asked means more donors. And God knows we need generous people like you, my readers, to contribute to something we couldn't possibly pay for ourselves. 

I have never asked you for help before. God willing, I won't ever have to ask again.  

Thank you! 

 

The Machine

 I remember when my mother got diagnosed with obstructive sleep apnea. She came home with this Machine. It roared like a white noise maker, sometimes "bubbled" - and she put on this mask every night. The first time I saw her with it on, I took one look at the mouth-mask that changed the shape of her profile, together with the black velvet-like straps that held it on, and I couldn't help but think of Bessie the cow with her halter on, waiting to be milked.

 I burst out laughing. I laughed until tears started spilling out of my eyes.

So when I went to the doctor at the end of summer this year, and mentioned to the doctor how tired I was all the time and how I never seemed to get much real deep sleep, he ordered blood tests for me to rule out thyroid and organ function problems, and he also referred me to the local sleep clinic. He informed me that it was likely that I had sleep apnea - and that those people who got treatment noticed an increase in their alertness level, and many of them lost weight because the stress was less during the night from trying to get enough oxygen. 

The blood tests came back normal. I took my sleep study home on September 11, a weird contraption that was a band around my upper chest, a nasal tube like you see in hospitals and an oxygen monitor that you clip on your finger for the night. (The thought crossed my mind, regarding the date, that my own "twin towers" might get hit - that my laughter so many years ago was coming back to bite me!!) To my surprise, I was able to sleep that night. (Preconceived notion of a machine being too intrusive? Gone.)

When I took the diagnostic machine back to the clinic, I picked up a brochure with all the models they had in it, as well as some information about what CPAP is (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) and how the new generation of machines is so quiet. (Another preconception dismissed.) 

A week later I got a call from the clinic with my results. Yes, I had obstructive sleep apnea (OSA), and could I come in on November 27, 2025 to pick up a CPAP machine? I made the appointment and put it on my calendar. Two. Whole. Months? 

The same day, I got a call from my doctor's assistant, who had received my test results and wanted to know if I had any questions. I wanted to know more details. So, I learned that my OSA was moderate, with 24 episodes of apnea and/or hypopnea (there's a word - it means snoring!) per HOUR.

Blink. Blink. Processing.

That night, I  put my diagnosis on Facebook and a dear friend of mine, who also has OSA, commented, "Welcome to the Snuffleupagus club!" I laughed - at least she didn't say the Bessie club... 

Yesterday, after 2 months of counting off the weeks, then the days, I picked up my machine. (Technically it's not mine yet; I have it on a 30-day trial). My appointment lasted an hour. Laura Lee (not Secord) went through my results, asked questions, let me ask questions, and then brought out the Machine - in a smart, black, canvas-looking case. She showed me how to put it together and what to do with each part. The mask was made of medical-grade silicone (so no acne or skin irritation!) and the air supply hooks to a strap that goes over my head; the hose hooks to a 360 degree elbow-joint (made of hard plastic) that allows me to turn over in bed with no problem, and the whole thing is held on my head by a strap that goes under my hair at the back of my head. She turned the Machine on after she fitted me for the mask, and there was no sound. NONE. My tongue went automatically to the roof of my mouth as I breathed normally through my nose, just like babies do! Laura Lee had to tell me the machine was on. I didn't know.

Huh.

I didn't feel suffocated.

Huh. 

I learned that I have to use distilled water in the machine to humidify the air that goes through the mask because the air by itself would dry out my nasal passages and my throat. 

Huh. 

(Note to self - those big bottles of distilled water are soft-sided, so be careful when putting water in the reservoir. I won't say how I found out...)

Finally, bedtime! I kissed hubby goodnight  . . . 

And I turned the Machine on and found a comfortable position. 

Free image from Pixabay!

The next thing I knew, it was 1:00 and I'd been asleep for an hour and a half! I unhooked the hose, went to the washroom, and got back in bed and reattached the hose. Aside from turning over in bed, I slept.

I usually wake up around 10 or 11 in the morning.

This morning I woke up at 7. SEVEN!!  More refreshed than usual (which is NOT refreshed!) And I laid awake with the Machine still on, until about 8 o'clock. 

And I got up.

Huh.

When I checked the sleep summary on the Machine, it told me that I averaged 13 apnea / hypopnea events per hour last night. (Down from 24 in my diagnostic test.)  When I checked my Garmin app (which measures stress levels and heart rate etc., through my watch) my stress levels had gone down significantly from all the previous nights. My heart rate was in the 60s (not the 80s) ... 

Huh! 

My jaw dropped. 

Blink. Blink. Processing.... 

And so begins my journey with the Machine. It's much easier than I thought to adjust to, and I like the results so far! Could this be ... part of self-care?

Huh. 

I go back in a week to get my machine read, and to adjust the flow of the air, as well as to make sure the mask still fits properly. 

But for today, I think I'll go do something else that is good for my self ... maybe get a haircut.