Stories

The CPAP Struggles of a 93 Year Old

I love that commercial with all the people in the CPAP support group sitting in a circle wearing masks and hoses with the sound of air whooshing around them.

There seems to be universal agreement that the darned thing is a pain in the you-know-what.

My mom also struggles mightily with that machine. She’s 93 and has lived her whole life without any trouble sleeping. She’s awake and perky all day long too — no feelings of tiredness. But they ran a test and presto, now she’s a CPAP user!

She hates everything about it.

My dad helps her get “suited up” before bed each night, tightening the straps around her head, careful to keep her hair from getting caught in the elastic.

She keeps her “sippy cup” on the night stand next to the bed because of the dry-mouth she struggles with. But to take a sip, she has to disengage the hose that extends out of the mask in front of her mouth. Then she can poke the straw from the sippy cup in through the small hole where the hose was connected. After that she plugs the hose back in. She does this multiple times each night.

Mom says the elastic straps pinch her head causing her scalp to itch. And during the night, her mask loosens up and air leaks out of it causing a whistling sound that wakes up my dad.

Mom: Hey, stop pushing me!

Dad: You’re leaking

Mom: All I want to do is sleep!

Dad: Fix it – I want to sleep too!

So Mom gets up to turn off the machine and free herself from the plastic contraption. This is usually in the early hours. Then she sleeps great for the rest of the night.

They’ve fiddled around with that thing for years, ordering new masks in an effort to find one that fits better. Recently they discovered Mom can wear one that only covers her nose instead of her mouth too. But the company sent her the wrong masks so now she has a big bag full of the wrong kind. And they can’t send them back because they already opened the box. (Sigh)

I keep urging her to consider having the Aspire implant put in under her chin, so she doesn’t have to struggle with the darned CPAP. But she’s hesitant and probably a little afraid of the surgery. If it were me, I’d get it done in a hot minute. (This is not an endorsement and I get no money for mentioning the Aspire implant here.)

But it seems like everyone these days are hooked up to a CPAP. There are reports that they are over-prescribed and some say that losing weight and/or sleeping on your side can reduce or eliminate symptoms. (Another disclaimer: This is not medical advice. I am not a medical professional. I don’t even own a white jacket.)

There’s got to be a better way for folks to get a good nights sleep without “waking” multiple times gasping for air and without fighting with a hose and mask contraption.

My husband and I have agreed we just won’t go there.

Neither of us want to roll over in bed and see the other with an octopus strapped to their face!

New Year Discoveries and Determinations

Happy New Year! Blessings on you all. I hope you’ve had a happy, safe, sane holiday season and I want to thank you for your enthusiastic support of my scribblings. As we head into 2025 there are some discoveries I’ve made and determinations I’ve formed which may be of interest to you. At the very least, I hope it’ll motivate you or provoke a few smiles.

Post Braces Benefits

First, (yahoo!) I finally got my braces off! I’ve had them on since last January and there were days when it was a mighty struggle to maintain patience. (If you missed it, read all about my frustrations with braces). But now that they’re off, I’m free to eat all the gooey foods I had to avoid — like pizza!

You’d think I would have lost weight during the year of “deprivation,” but nooo! So my New Year’s “to do” goals are to shave off a few pounds and increase my exercise. Thank goodness for my husband who urges me to walk the 1.5 miles around our neighborhood with him. We’ll see how disciplined I can be to keep that up during these cold, windy winter months. (I’m afraid I said this last year, didn’t I?)

The Fountain of Youth

But there is one area where I’ve had success. I read an article about how drinking alcohol contributes to aging and leads to the bruise spots that appear on my forearms whenever I bump into something. So, no more wine for me! Not that I’ve had a lot of it – about 4 oz. in the evening and whenever we went out for dinner. But since I’ve cut it out, the bruises have all but disappeared. I’m also saving myself some calories and we’re not spending as much at the grocery store. Yippee! The jury’s still out on the aging benefits though. Despite my best efforts, I’m sure I can only fool Mother Nature for so long.

I gave up wearing makeup/foundation this year once I learned it fills up the cracks in my face and accentuates wrinkles. (Yep, I have plenty of those.) I also discovered that when I’m outside and the wind blows, sand accumulates in my crows feet. Good grief. Sometimes I feel like a walking Navajo sandpainting.

So I’ll drink more water to plump up those facial lines and keep the wrinkle wolves at bay.

Fun with Food

With all the talk of chemicals in our food, I’m paying more attention to the ingredients on labels. I used to spray Pam to coat cookie sheets, etc. I thought we were safe because they proclaim “no preservatives, colors, flavors” — that is, until I looked on the back of the can. Holy cow, whatever is Dimethyl Silicone anyway? They say it’s an “anti-foaming agent.” (It makes me think of fire retardant.) Instead I’ll be using plain old butter and olive oil.

Now I was on a roll so just out of curiosity, I googled “food additives in bakery products” and found this article…

It appears there’s quite a list of hard-to pronounce chemicals swirling around in our favorite cookies, crackers and coffee cake. Makes me want to break out the flour and start baking from scratch. But even flour is jam-packed with all kinds of additives I can’t pronounce. I wonder how the Europeans do it. Their food is relatively free of chemicals. Recently I heard of someone moving back to Paris after getting allergies from U.S. cuisine. Turns out, she was healthier in France. So don’t get me started on the palm oil, corn syrup and lead in our cinnamon.

In pursuit of healthier choices, last year I decided honey would be a wiser option than sugar to sweeten my coffee. I also thought it would cut some calories. But again, curiosity got the best of me and I looked at the label. Considering the amount of honey I’ve poured into my coffee, I discovered that between the two, sugar has fewer calories. It’s also cheaper. Honey is $11.00 a bottle!

So the choice is clear — either bide your time and hope that smart people get rid of the toxic sludge in our foods, or look at the labels and throw out the contents of half your pantry. No more white bread, processed cheese or Cream of Mushroom Soup casseroles!

In the meantime, our counter is covered with plates of cookies, a chunk of fudge, apple pie and chocolate covered pecans. Easily within reach, we’re doing our best to whittle down that supply of sugar. I figure, once we’ve eaten it all up we can pursue a more healthy diet.

It’s best to start the New Year with a clean slate, don’t ya think?

Have a wonderful New Year, friends!

Four Things They Never Told Me About Wearing Braces

Well, well, I’ve been wearing these braces since last January. And I can’t tell you how excited I was as the day approached to finally get them off. I almost skipped my way into the orthodontist’s office last week, ready to finally be free of this mouthful of metal. The perky doctor sat down next to me, asked me to say “ahhh” and peered inside my mouth. I couldn’t wait for the extrication process to begin!

Things were lookin’ good, until she sighed and said, “Well, Laura, the top looks great, BUT there’s a problem with the bottom. You’ve got a small gap we need to close up, so you’ll have to wear the bottoms for a while longer.”

Visions of a big, gooey, mushroom and cheese pizza dinner disappeared like the ice cream in our freezer.

“Noooo! How much longer do I have to wear them?”

“We can probably have them off you before the first of the year,” she said.

Then as compensation for my disappointment, the technician prepped me for my retainer. She explained, “I’m going to fill the roof of your mouth with the mold material. I’ll hold it in there with my fingers so it doesn’t slide down your throat.”

Great.

Starting to panic, I said, “You need to know I have a very sensitive gag reflex.”

“You’ll be fine. Just look out the window and take deep breaths,” she said. “You only have to hold it in there for four minutes.”

FOUR WHOLE MINUTES!

So she slid this big glob of melted plastic into my mouth, then stuck her fingers in there too.

The last time this happened, I was twelve years old and I almost bit the hand off the orthodontist who subjected me to the same thing.

So I took deep breaths as I was told, looked out the window and started counting down the seconds. Thankfully I counted slow and the time was up before I knew it. I lived through it.

They tightened up the bottom braces, showed me how to take care of my retainer (which I have to wear for one week straight, 23 hours a day, then every night for the rest of my life) and I walked out of there feeling a lot less jubilant than when I walked in.

Four Things They Never Told Me About Wearing Braces

1. They never told me that after almost every monthly appointment, my mouth would be sore for seven to ten days. Not just a dull ache, but a searing pain every time I tried to eat, drink, smile or talk. Yes, they gave me little sticks of wax to affix to the sharp metal points, but then you’d end up with little globs of wax stuck in your mouth. You’d have to pry the little suckers out of there before you could eat anything and usually you’d miss a few so they’d end up in your meal.

2. They never told me that the estimated date of removal was just that — an estimate. Originally they told me the braces could come off in September, but here we are in November still sporting the Cyborg look.

3. They never told me I’d be wearing retainers for the rest of my life. Now, my husband, sweet man that he is, has gotten used to being kissed lightly (so I don’t hurt him). He said he can’t wait for the time when I can give him a big old sloppy kiss like the early days. Well, we’ll have to engage in that kind of activity before I put the plastic in my mouth at night.

4. They never told me I’d be conversationally challenged at mealtime. It’s not a good look to try and talk when you’ve been eating with braces on. Food gets stuck everywhere. There’s no way I wanted to open my mouth and risk a scene that would put a screeching halt to any kind of civil conversation. I couldn’t talk to anyone until I’d left the table to brush my teeth.

So, would I do it all again if I had it to do over?

That’s a tough question. I’m sure it’ll be worth it in the end, and there are much worse things that people have to put up with, but boy it’s been a real challenge along the way.

However, I’ve learned patience. I’ve learned that some things are worth the wait.

And I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut when pulling a loose-knit sweater on over my head!

New Home Sweet Home

I must apologize for being so absent these past few months! We’ve had a busy summer and fall with weeks worth of company, a move into our new home, cleaning the old house and coordinating showings to prospective buyers. I’m happy to say we now have a buyer and, fingers crossed, we’ll close in a few weeks. It’s been a long slog, for sure!

But we’re now settled into the new place and have (almost) found a place for everything we moved over here. Doug can finally get all our vehicles into the garage!

What We Learned Along the Way

First, we should have cleaned out the old house of all our non-essentials before we moved. We tried to get rid of the old stuff, but ended up moving most of it over to the new house. Then we went through the painstaking process of sorting through everything and making a number of trips to Goodwill. We’re not done yet. There’s still a few more loads to go!

It’s amazing how much “stuff” we had! I won’t bore you by listing it all, but suffice it to say we filled numerous truckloads. At some point we looked at each other and said:

Me: I wish we’d cleared all this stuff out of our old house sooner.

Hubby: Why didn’t you tell me to get rid of all this stuff before we moved?

Second, we shouldn’t have put our old house on the market as soon as we did. We were planning on a “best case” scenario in terms of timing. (We’re such silly people!)

We had hoped our new house would be built much earlier than it did, but noooooo! In addition to a few other items, there was a problem getting concrete work done on a retaining wall that delayed us over a month. A month!

Then we failed our first inspection and had to fix some things. One of them was a pane of glass that needed to be replaced in an upstairs bathroom. The window was one and one half inches too low and close to the shower and required tempered glass in both the upper and lower panes. (Just in case whoever was in the shower would feel compelled to leap out of the tub and fall into the window.) Trouble was, the upper pane was not tempered. Lo and behold, we couldn’t get the glass quickly — it was on backorder! So we waited two weeks for this dinky little pane of glass to arrive before we could re-schedule the inspection.

FINALLY we passed the followup inspection, got our Certificate of Occupancy from the Building Department and started the big move!

Appliance Adventures

Once we were into the new house, you should have seen us trying to get used to our new appliances!

The new clothes washer is fully digital with a locking lid and a HUGE drum. The first time I used it, the darned thing got off balance and tried to wiggle its way out from between the stationary sink and the wall. I couldn’t figure out how to get the lid to unlock so I could re-balance the load. I started whining about how I wanted my old washing machine back from the old house. We were seriously considering swapping out the new appliances for the old. Eventually, I calmed down and figured I’d try to get used to the mechanics. I reasoned it’s better to have a brand new washing machine than one that’s 15 years old. (Or is it?)

Our next adventure was figuring out how to start the dishwasher. Do you think it occurred to us to open up the booklet of directions? Nope. We figured it couldn’t be that difficult. So we experimented by fingering our way across the panel of digital “sensors” and finally hit upon the one that started things up. Once you hit the Power button there are 14 different options to choose from to get the kind of wash you want. Then you hit the Start sensor. But you’d better be quick about slamming the door shut because it only gives you four seconds before it shuts down. Then you have to start the whole process over again!

Finally we figured it out but we didn’t hear anything happening. So there’s Doug and me leaning over with our ears pressed against the dishwasher listening for water sloshing around inside. It seemed like minutes had passed with the two of us crouched over waiting for sounds that signaled success! Now that we know what to expect, it’s old hat.

Home Sweet Home

It feels good to be in our new home after years of going through the building process. Our marriage is still intact despite the construction issues that cropped up. Our kitty Snickers has settled in and initiated our new carpet with a number of thrown-up hairballs. We’re getting used to the sound of the heater coming on, which makes us feel like a jet aircraft has launched from our rooftop.

And the house I had built after the wildfire will now belong to someone else. Hopefully they will enjoy it as much as we did.

We’re home now and we’re blessed!

Find Out Why I’m a Glutton for Punishnent

I hope never to become one of those people who gets together with friends and does nothing but talk about their ailments. To me, it is the epitome of getting old. With all the things there are to talk about in this world — politics, family, work, books, movies — who needs to be reminded that our bodies are falling apart? I feel like an old log cabin, leaning to one side, propped up by timbers so I don’t fall over.

But yet, I’ve found myself spending more time laboring over personal upkeep than ever before. I’ve actually started a list entitled, “Laurie’s Health” where I itemize all the doctor appointments I’ve gone to, my blood pressure numbers and prescriptions I’ve been on. I know, I know, it’s an obsession!

Just last week I had three appointments. (My social calendar should be so full.)

First came the orthodontist. Yes, yes, I’m sporting a mighty flashy set of braces which I talked about in this article.

And I got bad news. I’m not progressing as quickly as he’d like, so I will have to wear them longer than he had originally planned. (Sigh) On top of that, he replaced my wires with a heavier gauge metal which tightened up my teeth and caused sharp new edges to rub the insides of my mouth raw. So not only did it hurt to bite down on a sandwich, but it caused a searing pain on the inside of my lower lip. Whaaa! Don’t you feel sorry for me yet?

You wait. I’m just getting started.

Then came the skin doctor. She wielded that liquid nitrogen bottle like a machete and froze patches off me in places I can’t see, much less reach. Then she numbed me up and cut off a growth I’d been sporting for months. Being blonde haired (mostly) and blue-eyed has its drawbacks. So I walked out of there feeling like a pin cushion and looking like a giraffe.

A glutton for punishment, I headed to the electrolysis lady on Friday. I have a standing monthly appointment with her because I don’t want to grow old looking like Mrs. McGee in grammar school. She had a chinful of long bristly hairs that made her look like Santa Claus. All the kids made fun of her and I wondered why she didn’t hire someone to pluck them out.

I have this fear I’ll end up in a nursing home where no one will care to keep up with my grooming habits. Coincidentally, my electrolysis lady said that’s the number one reason she hears from women who seek out her services — we all worry about those nursing homes. This is the curse of being mostly German, we are all fuzzy folks.

I’ll spare you the story of what I had done to my toe. That’s taken six weeks to heal. Earlier, I took a tumble coming out of church and tore my meniscus, which eventually earned me a steroid shot in my knee. Then there was the tooth implant that didn’t go well.

Good grief! Now I am one of those people who does nothing but talk about her ailments. Only I’ve been able to do it in writing, which means I can’t be interrupted. (Are you still with me, or did you get up and leave the room?)

Actually, I’m quite thankful I’ve been blessed with good health. There are many who struggle with issues far more serious than my minor complaints.

But I’m holding onto the walker we got for my Mom when she broke her pelvis last year. You just never know when you’re going to need one — at the very least, for a conversation piece!

She’s Got a Way with Words

Not sure why, but I have a tendency to say the weirdest things. They make sense to me in the moment, but as soon as they come out of my mouth (or land on the page I’m typing) it’s clear the meaning is not at all what I had intended. (Just like I wrote at the bottom of this article.)

It’s gotten to the point where my husband has started writing things down that I say. He calls them “Laurie-isms.” I’m glad I can provide entertainment for him. Most times I catch myself and we have a really good laugh together — often making me giggle so hard it brings tears to my eyes.

For example, after visiting with my niece who was visiting from out of state, I told my husband, “I don’t remember Mandy being that tall when she was little.”

He did a double-take, looked at me funny and said, “Whaaat?”

What I meant was, I didn’t remember Mandy being overly tall for her age when she was little, but she has grown up to be quite a statuesque young lady. I knew what I was saying. Isn’t that what counts?

Then there was the time we were opening the mail together. We found a photo greeting card from my aunt and uncle with all their children gathered round. My husband hadn’t met them yet and was curious as to who was who. He asked me about my Aunt Paula.

“Where is she?” he asked.

Thinking maybe he needed to put on his glasses, I pointed to her picture on the card and said, “Right there!”

He crumpled up laughing. “No, I mean where does she live?”

That sent us both into rollicking fits that brought tears to both our eyes. (Yes, each one of our eyes were weeping.)

You’d think that for someone who promotes herself as being a communications pro, I’d avoid saying things that could be misconstrued. And I’ve done it in public too — in front of a live audience even.

I was speaking at a conference in Florida and the topic was “Dealing with Difficult People.” We were talking about Dominant personality styles and to describe one of the aggressive traits I said, “…and with this kind of person it’s all about who’s on top.” As soon as it came out of my mouth I realized the double entendre, but it was too late! The audience was all women, except for one man, and the whole room erupted in laughter. I turned beet red, knowing I didn’t mean it that way.

Then there was the night before my daughter and I were going to another speaking engagement in Albuquerque NM. We were headed to the store to pick up last minute supplies and there was an almost full moon overhead. As we sat in the car admiring it, I said to her, “What a beautiful moon. It’ll be full by tomorrow. Too bad we’ll be gone and will miss it.”

I know, I know. It’s a sad situation when you mix my tendency to jumble words with a profession that relies on verbal skills. But I can count on my husband and my daughter to keep me in line.

Back when she was a teenager, I asked my daughter if she would listen to me give a speech so I could practice for an upcoming presentation. She sat in the living room listening intently, as I paced back and forth working on the words and my timing.

When I was done, I asked her, “Well, what do you think?”

Kim said, “Mom, you sound like Agent Scully (in the X Files show) giving an autopsy report.”

A chip off the old block, right? She inherited my way with words!

To Purge or Not to Purge

We’re getting ready to put our house up for sale! Whoohoo! It’s been like a whirlwind around here. Doug and I have weaved our way throughout our home, touching up paint, filling nail holes, clearing out clutter, hauling “stuff” to Goodwill and filling up our temporary storage unit. I’m embarrassed to say that my husband has been doing most of the work, and a fine job he’s done at that!

To Purge or Not to Purge

But you should hear our conversations as we weed through the stuff in our basement:

Me: “Do we want to keep that, sell it or take it to Goodwill?”

Him: “It’ll be fine to keep for now. We can move it over to the house with us.”

Me: “But if we get rid of it now, the less we’ll have to worry about when it comes time to move.”

Him: “Yes, but we’ve got plenty of room in the new house.”

Me: “I know, but why fill up the new house with old junk we’ll never use?” (Don’t you agree? I think my logic is perfectly reasonable.)

Him: “It’s not a bother. Let’s move it over to the storage unit for now. Then we can decide if we want to get rid of it later.”

Me: “Oh, okay. If you don’t mind moving it twice. It’s your call.”

I figure since he’s doing the heavy lifting, the least I can be is flexible.

Floors and More

After the basement was sorted out, we hired my brother to clean the carpets. While we vacuumed before he came over with the carpet cleaner, I’m horrified to tell you that wiping around the baseboards with a damp rag turned up gobs of dog and cat hair. Here I thought I kept a clean house, but obviously not clean enough! When my brother was done, the carpets looked fabulous. Now I hope the dog and cat don’t shed too much before prospective buyers come through. I shudder when I stand near the heater vent and see fine little hairs floating through the air. They’re like slender snowflakes.

Next we tackled the entryway floors. All of the grout had cracked apart at the tiled doorways, so we had a contractor come to re-install the tiles and put down new grout. I learned how important it is to lay an “anti-fracture uncoupling membrane” on top of the subfloor so it absorbs any movement. I was impressed with how thorough they were. (I’m also impressed I can remember the name anti-fracture uncoupling membrane.) So now the tiles look beautiful!

Makes me wonder why we didn’t do all of this sooner. But isn’t that the way it is? You scramble around making improvements and fixing things before you sell your house rather than during the years you’re living there. At least we can enjoy it for a few months before we move.

And now comes the cleaning. I have to wash the windows and doors, wash and wax the hardwood floors, dust the blinds, clean the oven and oodles more. We’ve got to make the house presentable for showing so people can walk through the house in 15 minutes flat. No one will notice the door jambs.

Are you getting the sense that I don’t like to clean? Well, I don’t. I’d much rather be outside, reading or sitting at my computer writing. I do what I must and thankfully I don’t have a fussy husband.

Actually, I have the best husband in the world. He’s made this whole home-building and moving process a lot easier than it could have been. I’ve heard people say they’ve ended up in divorce court over building a new house. I think our toughest “discussion” was where to put the toilet in the master bathroom. I can’t remember who won that interaction!

The house we’re in right now was built right after the wildfire destroyed my cabin home. It’s been a great place to live for almost ten years. I’ve enjoyed being surrounded by the trees that thankfully did not burn, listening to the wind whooshing through the pines and appreciating the sunshine of our southern exposure.

It’s going to seem strange to know that people are walking through our house, sizing it up and imagining their own belongings filling our rooms. Thank goodness we won’t be here during those visits. I want everyone to love this place like we have. I want to find good buyers for our neighbors, who are wonderful. Um, I mean, I want to find good buyers for our house who our wonderful neighbors will love!

And surprise, the very first day the house went on the market we got a call scheduling a walk through. And so it begins. Wish us luck!

Funny Quotes:

“Before you marry a person, you should first make them use a computer with slow Internet service to see who they really are.” —Will Ferrell

“Never criticize your spouse’s faults; if it weren’t for them, your mate might have found someone better than you.” —Jay Trachman

“The only reason I would take up jogging is so that I could hear heavy breathing again.” —Erma Bombeck

Cabin Puns:

Why did the cabin go to therapy? It had too many siding effects!

Why was the cabin always so organized? It had a great shelf-esteem!

The cabin owner loved having guests; she was a “tree-mendous” host.

More about moving…

Moving Out of a Townhouse and Into the Cabin

Aren’t You Too Old for Tinsel Teeth?

So here I sit with a mouthful of metal. Two days ago I got braces.

“What?” you ask. “Aren’t you a little old for tinsel teeth?”

“I beg your pardon! One is never too old for a prettier smile.”

But oh the torture! If I had known how painful it would be, I would have thought twice.

As it was, I vacillated on this decision a number of times up until the moment I was sitting in the orthodontist’s chair watching him lean in for the big procedure.

I can still back out of this, I thought. It’s not too late! I can mumble through the contraption they put around my mouth to keep my lips out of the way. (Wish I’d gotten a picture of that!)

“I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to do this!”

But I didn’t say a word. I lay there in that chair and let them put metal brackets on the teeth of both my upper and lower jaw. I was so nerved up my mouth was quivering.

And at first I thought, well this isn’t so bad. But then the doctor had his assistant wind wire through those brackets which tightened things up a bit. Quite a bit.

And I got my first taste of what metal feels like scraping across the inside of your cheek. The assistant said it would take five days for the pain to stop. I’m assuming that’s how long it takes for scar tissue to form around the inside of your mouth.

And eating! What a mess. I’ve been eating only soft foods (and drinking what I can), but it’s still quite a complicated process. I figure the only benefit to all of this, beside a better smile, is maybe I’ll lose some weight. I ponder how hungry I am and whether it’s worth the tooth brushing and water-pik procedure that follows to make me feel human again.

How long must I endure this torture? They said nine months. That’s not as long as some I’m told, but it feels like a decade away. My mom joked, “You could have a baby in that amount of time.”

“No, no Mom, I won’t.” You can bet on that.

But there is some hope. I’m starting to get used to the feel of metal in my mouth. At least I can sleep with it. I’m learning to be careful when I chew, making sure my scraped up cheek is out of the way before I chomp down.

I have taken pleasure flashing my sparkly smile at people who wouldn’t expect to see me in braces. There’s usually a look of surprise and I can almost hear them thinking, “What, at your age?”

But at the end of all this I’ll have teeth that don’t overlap or turn inward. And maybe I’ll throw a party to celebrate the “coming off” process. You’ll see me smiling even more than I used to.

In the meantime, kissing my husband is a whole different adventure. I think he deserves hazard pay!