Last night at this time, I was sitting in a bed at a clinic, watching the commentary on Joe Paterno’s firing on TV, finishing my graham crackers and milk, and feeling a little uncomfortable.


I’m a snorer. And as much as I’d like that statement to absolve me as similarly as a recovering alcoholic admits his addiction at support group meetings, it doesn’t help Jenni sleep at night.


So back in May, I got my nasal surgery in the hopes that would fix the problem. It hasn’t. So we moved on to the next step: a sleep study.


It took about an hour for the technician to apply about 25 electrodes to my body. Then I got to sit fairly uncomfortably in the bed to wait for sleep and the command to start falling asleep. To be perfectly honest, there are ways that the study could be considered torture, in as much as it’s not dissimilar to trying to sleep in a hotel, except with 25 wires connected to you in various ways, someone watching you for the full 8 hours of the study, and then, at some point, a CPAP machine being applied to your face like a muzzle.


Oh, it’ll be well worth it when the findings come in. Though at one point the technician put a strap around my head to keep me from opening my mouth. So there I was, breathing entirely through my nose with the CPAP machine, unable to open my jaw. Shortly after, my nose started plugging up and I couldn’t breathe easily without forming a kissing-type formation with my lips, so I think I slept for a while with my lips pursed around an imaginary straw. I wonder to a point what that sounded like to the tech…But then I just don’t want or need to know.


I’ll be interested to see what the sleep doctor tells me about the study, though I really hope there aren’t instant replays. I don’t need to see myself sleep.


In the meantime, though, I’m still catching up on my sleep after that experience. Time to hit my own bed and fall asleep.


See you tomorrow.