Why I DEARLY Love My Husband’s Robot Face

Hi, peeps.

I’m SORRY!

Whether you’re into group names or not, I really hope you are, in fact, Di-hards. Because otherwise I think you might have ditched me by now, such has been the shamefulness of my neglect. (You don’t have to tell me, I know you miss my blog posts as bad as you’d miss your own nostrils if they suddenly left you for ten whole days.)

Speaking of nostrils.

I’d just like to say, writing from down here in the doldrums of February (where I start a blog post every few days but can’t seem to finish one – bad blogger!), I have rarely loved any appliance as much as I love my Hubbibi’s Robot Face.

(This is not him. As you may know, my Hubbibi is not grey-haired like this, nor are his lips quite so girly. He is, however, similarly smooth-cheeked.)

It’s been a couple months now that Sean’s been using his CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine at night on a regular basis, to combat his sleep apnea. After such a short time, I’m already in love and prepared to make a lifetime commitment. (Of course, I’m not the one who has to wear it, so that’s easy for me to say. But I make a sacrifice in the form of goodnight kisses of a very scheduled nature, since once the mask goes on… the moment for kissing is over.)

Have you ever slept next to a snorer? More to the point, have you ever tried unsuccessfully to sleep next to a snorer? If you answered yes, then you know. And if you have found yourself listening and wondering, “HOW ON EARTH is any oxygen getting in??” then I bet your snorer has sleep apnea.

I can vouch. For the past two nights, poor Sean has been too congested with a cold to wear his mask. It’s like watching an animal drown with only a flimsy blade of grass to rescue it with: struggle struggle struggle to get air, then every other minute, breathing actually stops and you nudge to get it going again… then it goes right back to struggling. And musically, it’s like listening to a very sick blender. You can’t imagine anything worth breathing is really getting into the lungs. It’s painful (for me).

And this is how sleeping has been for him – for years. We don’t even know how long he’s had the condition, but he knows he has been mostly tired for a very, very long time. He is one of those people who would fall asleep sitting up, in the middle of a social occasion – and no wonder! If not enough oxygen is getting through, the body is not resting properly. It does not get replenished as it should.

OXYGEN: GOTTA HAVE IT. (Sleep apnea also comes with a whole bunch of other risks, if you wanna read about it. Like death, for example.)

Anyway, since the arrival of Erin Flo (as I’ve just decided to call her), life is Different. In our darkened bedroom, all I hear is the very soft hum of Flo’s mechanism – a comforting, steamy sound – and my beloved husband breathing. Properly. It’s frickin’ awesome.

Furthermore, he feels better. Despite the fact that he’s getting up at 4 a.m. on weekdays at the moment, he has more energy and acts a lot less like a narcoleptic.

Between us, based on this experience, we feel confident that a large percentage of common afflictions can be blamed on this subtle and insidious condition. Who knows how many people out there suffer from depression, apathy, listlessness, lack of hope/positivity/energy/motivation etc. etc. – just because they aren’t getting a good sleep?? We think it’s a LOT.

Here’s a little jingle for you, to the tune of O Tannenbaum:

Sleep apnea, sleep apnea,
Yes, oxygen’s important.
Sleep apnea, sleep apnea,
The robot face is worth it.

Pass it on to your friends!

Seriously.

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