Octopus: one of the face masks of the CPAP machine; easier for side sleeping but devilishly slippery and uncomfortable on my sniffer.
Hannibal: the other face mask. Much more comfortable for breathing; much less comfortable for side sleeping and turning at night.
Snoozinator: CPAP machine
SnoozeBorg: Electronic dashboard providing sleep statistics resulting from on-line reporting of diagnostics from Snoozinator.
Night 1: Off to sleep with Hannibal firmly attached and Snoozinator set up: fully hydrated and ready to go. H.O. assures me that he loves me even if I have to sleep with a gas mask on. Attempt to sleep with head frozen in position to keep all the mask and tube apparatus oriented correctly. Comfy.
Day 1: Wake up tired, but more refreshed than usual. Assure Hannibal I will be back. Attempt to find enough bars for the magic squirrels in the Snoozinator to reach out to the SnoozeBorg, which will collect data and give me reports on how my sleep stats are going. Welcome to the future! Not sure if this is cool or creepy, but it might not matter, as our piss-poor cell service extends to all things looking for the Sky Magic.
Night 2: Slightly more adept with Hannibal. 6-7 hours of wondrous sleep, involving some measure of restfulness. This could get to be a habit, Hannibal and me. But the difficulty in side-sleeping means I will try the other, which arrives on:
Day 2: Still feel like I've been drug backwards through a knothole for a few years straight, but that's likely because apparently I have. Hope springs eternal, however, as I did not feel the desperate need to sell loved ones or limbs for a few hours of sleep. You can imagine how relieved everyone in that equation is.
Night 3: Stepped out on Hannibal with the Octopus. This is the mask that my doctor told me I would find more comfortable, even though I'd tried them all at my sleep study and had found this one much less comfortable. He assured me I was wrong; I remain correct. Don't like the way the Octopus feels while breathing, which is to say always, but will try in the name of science and side-sleeping.
The Octopus features the lovely-named "nose pillows." Pillows, yes, if you mean the ever-popular pillow style where someone has two fingers wedged in your nostrils. (Gently wedged, of course, because pillows.) Does this look pillow-ish to you? I submit that it does not.
It does make for easier side-sleeping, but it was a bit of an octopus-wrestling night over here.
Day 3: Still no need to sell any loved ones for sleep! Not weeping by eleven a.m. from exhaustion. This is a wonderful, fantabulous thing. Successfully connected with the SnoozeBorg, and my Personalized Sleep Dashboard beckons, where my scores on such exotic topics as "Mask Seal," await my perusal. Still cannot decide if this is cool or creepy.
Night 4: Turns out my model of Octopus is cleverly designed to be exactly symmetrical top to bottom so it is indistinguishable in the dark. Also turns out I am the only person who has ever needed to get up during the night, because putting it back on correctly is a 50/50 proposition. (Who could have seen this coming? Designers? Bueller? Did I mention how I adore great design and am irked by poor and thoughtless?)
This feature might not seem like a big deal. However, when you put it on upside down in the middle of said night, turns out after you get it all strapped on, no air comes through and you get to experience the sensation of being suffocated. Fun and restful!
To offset this problem, the clever designers have printed a small L & R underneath the pillows. Here's a picture of what they look like:
Very helpful in the middle of the night, as you can see. I have a few more suggestions for the design department, that is for sure. (And so unusual!)
Day 5: ENERGY! This is magnificent. I consider take up flying through space and time for a hobby.
(More precisely, I am still exhausted. But there's a different flavor to it, like a lake in an extensive drought is an entirely different kind of lake when there is water coming in, even if it is but a few inches at a time.) Reintroduce daily walk to existence. Great temptation to start by leaping a small building or two, but remember that moderation is key.
Alert! SnoozeBorg emails me and mentions I seem to have trouble with my Mask Leakage. Perhaps I would like to try another mask, it asks? This is both comforting and disturbing. Promise the Borg I will consider its input.
Night 6: Apparently if you forget to check the water level in the Snoozinator Machine, your nostrils and sinuses become like said parched lake. Was warned of this, but had forgotten to check the built-in humidifier. Oops. Guess they meant it. More octopus wrestling as someone else's fingers are now stuck up my parched nostrils. The struggle is real.
Sadly Borg made no note of this epic struggle. Thanks, Borg. However, this is perhaps fortuitous, because Borg also sends me a Silver Sleep Medal! You can imagine my pride.
Day 6: Zest for life continues to reappear; another morning walk! it's a dad-gum miracle. The H.O. early on expressed his concerns that that the world might not be ready for a Fully Rested Ramona. He might be right...hasta la Vista, be-bes. I'm off to go for the gold!