Sleeping Baggage

For most of my adult life, I have been tired. And not just the stay-up-too-late-watching-the-Walking Dead-on-Netflix kind of sleepy. I mean, no matter how much I sleep, I am always tired.

Worn out.
Weary.
Exhausted.
And I don't even have children.

I have tried many things to remedy this:
Go to bed earlier
Go to bed later
Avoid eating before bed
Eat before bed
Avoid caffeine after lunch
Exercises regularly
Drink more water
Ambien

The last one could be my favorite but it also comes with consequences.

Finally, in September, I went to the doctor. I told him about my sleepiness and my sometimes weird heartbeats and my healthy eating and exercise regimen that has resulted in absolutely nothing except a bitterness towards spinach, and then he said the words I didn't want to hear: "Sarah, I think you have sleep apnea."

I just looked at him and said, "I thought only old men got that." (Aren't you glad I am not in the health care profession?)

And then he said it is very common among all age groups and is most likely a genetic condition that causes my airway to be too small when I sleep at night. So he ordered an in-home sleep test and the results came back fairly conclusive that I do indeed have sleep apnea.

It's like the most awesome thing that has ever happened to me except not at all and I am lying.

However, they need more data. So, they have prescribed me a night's stay in a sleep lab where I will tuck myself into a big bed, hook myself up to approximately 1 billion electrodes and try to sleep while a plethora of people watch me.

And it is happening on Tuesday.

If the results come back conclusive, then I will need a CPAP machine for the rest of my life. Being both a girl and single, this admittedly deflates my spirit. I find myself so desperately wanting to sleep better (and for my heart to be healthier, my metabolism to be faster...) but not wanting the literal baggage that comes with it. I already wear a mouthguard, but a ginormous machine that straps to my face and forces me to breathe?

I might as well just get dentures and nightgown and call it a night.

Dear Future Husband, it looks like I'll need to sleep near the closest electrical plug-in.

In the meantime, I will give you a full report of my night away, all hooked up and monitored. Somehow they will make sleeping a spectator sport. I wonder if they will serve popcorn or something. That would totally make it better.