The first time it happened I didn't even know what it was. It was like... a vibration. In my throat? Where the air was coming from. It was soft, but it woke me up. Immediately, I freaked out and buzzed the nurse. "I think there's something wrong with my airway. What if I stop breathing--I've done that in the hospital before--what if..." When you're in the hospital and code blues are ringing all the time, you can get a little hysterical sometimes.
The nurse calmed me down by putting an oxygen monitor on my finger.
It happened again in the hospital, but I brushed it aside. If I was in danger of death, I was hooked up to the machines that would tell someone. This is a very comforting thing when you're in the hospital and it's all dark and you're all drugged and hysterical.
But then I went home. And... well... it kept happening. Sometimes the vibration would be really strong and sometimes it would even make a sound. Sometimes it would wake me up. Sometimes it wouldn't.
After about two weeks home I started to realize what it probably was. (In my defense, it took me that long because the sensation feels NOTHING like the sensation you get when you pretend to do it. And also, I was really out of it for a really long time.) I didn't tell anyone, though. It was something I had never, ever done in my entire life. I didn't want people to think I might keep doing it. Because I might not! It was probably just a temporary thing caused by the sedative effects of all the post-surgery drugs. Right?! It had to be that. Because I wasn't someone who did something like this.
But people. Oh, people. I took a nap again today. And three times--count them!--three times I was semi-awakened by "it."
So I can't pretend anymore. I have to confess. To come out publicly with an announcement:
I snore now.
I don't do it every time I sleep. But sometimes I do. I don't know if I'll ever stop. Or if when I finally finish healing from the super-annoying-skin-graft-from-hell (did you know it messed up my heart?! they just put me on beta blockers so I don't keel from a heart attack. I'm friggin 31!) I will magically stop.
But for now. In this place. At this point in my life.
And it sux.
And I'm sorry.
Reviewing the Mail: Week of 11/118
18 hours ago