Suffocating at Night: Or, Your Dentist Does More than Look After Your Teeth

My husband had a snoring problem for years.  Previous partners had complained about it, but he never thought much about it.  

All he knew was, that in the morning he was a write-off until he had had at least 6 cups of coffee.  He couldn't carry on a simple conversation first thing in the am.  He was so tired - he fell asleep everywhere -  coffee breaks at work, watching TV - and he was always dog-tired no matter how much sleep he seemed to get.

One day while having his teeth cleaned at the Dentist's - he fell asleep and started snoring in the chair.

 The Dentist woke him up and asked if he was OK.  He was having one of his apneic spells.

He asked him if he was always like this. Asked if he was given the choice between doing anything else (well, not everything - after all, he is a guy) and sleeping, what would he choose?

Sleep, of course! was my husband's emphatic reply.

The Dentist suggested my husband see an MD friend of his that specialized in sleep disorders.

Tests ensued and he was given a CPAP to take home and try....one with a microchip that recorded his whole sleep history that could be removed for analysis.

Apparently he was having extreme episodes where he wouldn't be breathing for a minute and more....up to 20 times per hour  - and if he were in the hospital - so the doc said - there definitely would be "medical intervention" due to the low O2 sats and lack of respirations.

My husband found that since he has been using the CPAP....he doesn't need the gallons of coffee that he has been drinking to wake himself up, and he is feeling much more rested.  

His snoring doesn't keep me awake when we go to bed, and there is an absense of the apnea that would scare me to death - because the CPAP is taking over watching his respirations.  I no longer have to smack him awake thoughout the night to remind him to breathe.

Even though the snoring would keep me awake when we first went to bed  -  the sound was actually reassuring.   I knew that as long as I was hearing the snoring - he was breathing- and he was alive.   
Nothing worse than reaching over at night feeling a stone cold chest (from the cold in the room) and not feeling it go up and down with respirations. 

APNEA FACTS:

- Potentially a life threatening condition, untreated Sleep Apnea leads to High Blood Pressure, Stroke, Diabetes,  Heart Attack, Higher accident risk due to sleepiness, depression, irritability, memory problems, men - impotence.

- Basically, sleep apnea is suffocation while asleep.  Most people don't even remember - they wake up to start breathing again and their sleep is interrupted but they don't wake up enough to know that this is what is happening.

-CPAP (Continuous Positive Airway Pressure) can stop symptoms - it doesn't cure it - but gives a restful sleep and can possibly prolong life.

Links : Heart Disease and Obstructive Sleep Apnea

The link between OSA and coronary heart disease (CAD),  heart attack and stroke is still unclear.
Obstructive sleep apnea is very common in patients with heart failure. For heart failure patients, OSA can make their condition worse because of the stress it places on the heart during sleep.

People with OSA usually also have high blood pressure (hypertension). Doctors do not know why these conditions may be linked, but many patients who get their OSA under control will also see small decreases in their blood pressure.

People with OSA are also much more likely to develop abnormal heart rhythms (arrhythmias).

 "It showed that people with sleep apnea who refused treatment had a three- to fourfold increased risk of cardiac events."

Doctors have also found that some patients who have recently had a heart attack are at greater risk of OSA. Because of this link, some doctors are now recommending that heart attack patients undergo screening tests for OSA.


It is thought that more than 1 in 4 adult Canadians are at risk to have sleep apnea per a survey taken   as a component of the Canada Community Health Survey by Statistics Canada.   Out of all those people, only 5% have been tested for it.


Here is a quick test you can take to determine whether you suffer from sleep apnea - provided by the Lung Association.  It could be that YOU have this disorder and don't even know.

All I can say is,  my husband and I have both gotten a better sleep since he was diagnosed and is now using his CPAP routinely.    Hopefully, he will live a longer life as a result.

And -  I have my husband's Dentist to thank for recognizing it and convincing my husband to go for treatment.

Trip to Emergency. Again.

I've been throwing PVCs lately and I have finally decided to do something about it.

I just got back from Emergency......

My girlfriend from work called and asked if I could pick up her mom.  Her mom lives just a couple blocks from me in an apartment building.    Just moved in this spring from another community.

I had never really met her before,  but my girlfriend from work talks about her a lot.  The way she talks about her, you would have wrongly assumed she was a little old lady.....but no.   She is younger than I am, but she has multiple medical problems of which I won't list here. She also has a cardiac history.

Apparently my girlfriend's mom had been having squeezing chest pain  starting last night - pressure in the chest going up into her neck.   She didn't want to bother anyone so she continued with the chest pain all night and when my girlfriend called her this am - she finally let her in on it.

My girlfriend who lives an hour away, calls me in tears.  Her mom absolutely refuses to call an ambulance and has no way to get to the hospital.  She still doesn't want to bother anyone.  Her closest friend lives a half hour away and can come and get her, but would I mind......could I please pick up her mom and take her to Emergency? 

I am still in my jammies at that point, enjoying my early morning chai tea latte  -  so I run and throw on a pair of jeans and my raincoat and run out the door - hop into my car and drive the several short blocks to the apartment where her mom is waiting for me outside.   On the way,  small talk ensues and I try to find out if there is anything else I should know in case there is a cardiac arrest in my car.

We get to Emergency - ya the same one I visited this summer when trying to visit my wounded husband - and I drop off my girlfriend's mom, park the car and run back to Emergency.  She's nowhere in sight. 
I ask at the reception if a middle-age (I wince here) woman with chest pain has come through just now.  Emergency reception area has only 4 other people waiting. 

Around the corner walks my girlfriend's mom - someone directed her to the opposite end of the hospital. I usher her to that famous Glassed Off Area and announce to the receptionist that here is the woman with "chest pain".

 I may as well have said "tiny sliver". 

She has my girlfriend's mom sit down - and proceeds to take all the medical insurance information.  Five minutes later....the receptionist redirects her to the waiting area - pointing to the large vacant seating area -  and tells her to go there to wait for a nurse to triage her.  By this time she tells me she is feeling nauseated.

Ten minutes later - which seemed an eternity  - one of the nurses calls her up to the Glassed Off Window and has her sit down and takes vital signs through The 6 inch Space under the Glass Window and asks questions and after approximately another five minutes or more......the nurse walks her around The Glass Wall into the Locked  Emergency Department. 

I am requested to "give information" to the receptionist to complete the admission process.  I suppose that 5 minutes my girlfriend's mom spent with the receptionist earlier wasn't enough time to give all the info they needed.   I tell the receptionist that up until a half hour ago, I didn't even know her name, don't know her phone number and definitely don't know her address..... I am of no further use, and I walk out of the building.  I know from previous experience that I wouldn't be allowed admittance past the Locked Door.

I call my girlfriend and tell her that her mom is now admitted to Emergency and they have taken her *safely* Beyond the Glass Partition.

I drive home....back to my house.   I reflect on my visit to the hospital in Washington State when I had my gallbladder pain....along with referred chest pain.  Totally different experience.   I was scooped up in the reception area immediately upon walking through the door - with a wheelchair by an aide, barely stopping to give my insurance info and whisked into a waiting stretcher and was hooked up to an EKG pronto.  All within less than five minutes.  I was never redirected into the reception area or told to wait for someone to assess me.

So, this is why I am now reflecting on my PVCs.....and subsequent chest pain....and thinking....I gotta stop drinking all that coffee...........I don't want to ever go to that Emergency Department again - especially as a patient.

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On another note:  I had 200 trick-or-treaters come to the door by 7 pm last night when I ran out of candy (last year was cancelled by H1N1 and the year before we had 139 kids...) - I had no warning there would be that many...... oh well.

To get Political... Ads From the 1800s

I don't often get into political discussions with the American side of our family....since our rellies lean both ways...and it can get a little bit complicated and personal.  

Speaking of "getting personal"....I am getting tired of the barrage of ads that are on the TV on every single American channel (yes, we get to see them all here too!) ....every single commercial break.    How much worse could the smack-talk get?

Apparently, a lot worse.  

If you haven't already seen this.....here you go.  I am thinking they were a lot more vicious and personal with their attacks back in the 1800s.  Ouch!




Happy Elections. You get what you Vote for.

Purple Heart

My husband's father was a Marine.  He passed away a couple years ago and was buried with a military guard.  When we were visiting his mom this last time - I took some photos of some of his medals for my husband.  This is one of the many..... the Purple Heart.

He was very quiet about his experience over in Korea, but apparently there was a lot of action seen.....and it was horrific enough that he refused to talk about it much. 

I can't imagine.

At one point, he wasn't sure that he and his company would get out alive.

Which brings me back to tattoos again.



Here is a man that actually tattoos Marines that go overseas.   "Modern Day Samurai"......that's what he calls them.

A Moment of Silence...

Yesterday in Kelowna B.C. there was a Memorial Service for an amazing person.  Her life achievements are something to aspire to.

Before being elected to provincial office, Sindi Hawkins was an R.N. practicing in the areas of general duty, intensive care, management, education and consulting nursing.  She held a post-graduate certificate in neuroscience nursing from the Montreal Neurological Hospital. She was recognized as one of the first nurses in Canada to be certified in neuroscience nursing by the Canadian Nurses Association. She spent 12 years treating cancer patients before studying and pursuing a law career.

 After earning a law degree from the University of Calgary, Sindi set up her own company as a lawyer with an interest in medical-legal issues.

She then turned her interest toward politics.

First elected in British Columbia in 1996 she was again successful in both 2001 and 2005.    A popular politician, she served as Minister of Health Planning and as Minister of State for Intergovernmental Relations. As Minister of Health Planning, she was responsible for a long-term strategy to train more doctors and nurses in British Columbia.   As a result of this planning, B.C. has added medical school campuses at the University of Northern BC in Prince George, the University of Victoria and at UBC Okanagan in Kelowna.

Sindi was diagnosed with leukemia in 2004.

 She found, as a minority, that she only had a 30% chance of a match for a donor as compared to the general population at 70%.  Sindi wanted to increase those odds. In 2007, she brought Lance Armstrong to B.C. to raise awareness for the BC Cancer Society.

As co-chair of the BC Cancer Foundation’s Tour of Courage in 2007 and with a new endowment fund, she has helped raise nearly $3 million for the BC Cancer Foundation.

Her annual Sindi Hawkins and Friends Charity Golf Classic has raised $1million and funded a new hospice in Kelowna and an outreach programme that has taken leukemia care closer to home for patients across British Columbia.

Last month Sindi passed away 6 days after her 52nd birthday.

 The announcement was made several hours before her death that the Cancer Agency in her home riding of Kelowna North would be renamed after her - Sindi Ahluwalia Hawkins.

She was definitely an inspiration, an advocate a role model and a great community leader.

What is your Idea of "OLD"???

In 16 years I will be this lady's age!!! What the heck? She is calling herself OLD????? ( I am not liking the old-lady hairdo or the old-lady dress and old-lady glasses..... there are ways to look current without over doing it!!! She looks like the "church lady".....)

My idea of OLD is more like this woman.....can you imagine?  Eighty-nine years old and successfully running for Mayor of the 3rd largest city in Ontario, Canada.....for the 12th term since 1979 and her 33rd year in a row typically with 90% of the vote (76% this time despite a 'land scandal situation').

Hazel McCallion or "Hurricane Hazel" certainly is someone to be admired.  She has been named to the Order of Canada and voted the second-best mayor on the planet, and has a charitable organization called  "Hazel's Hope" that she travelled to Tanzania for in 2006 - funding healthcare for children afflicted with AIDS and HIV.

She still lives in her two-storey brick house which was her home with her husband Sam until his death in 1997 from pnuemonia while suffering from Alzheimers.  She says that her work at City Hall kept her going.   She is the longest serving mayor in Canada and has kept the city debt-free since her first term of office.  

Not only does she live alone with her dog "Hurricane" and keep active but "she still keeps a pair of skates and a hockey stick in the trunk of her car in case she comes across a pick-up game.  Hazel McCallion, [was] a former professional women's hockey player in Montreal in the 1930s".

I would be happy just to reach her age....never mind in her condition!  Rick Mercer reports:






Yep. And when I am old.....I shall wear purple.

"There but for the Grace of God..."

I used to live right downtown in the heart of Vancouver - the West End actually.  Right in  the heart of the Gay district - two blocks from English Bay... Sunset Beach.

 I lived in a 100 year old building with floors so sloped -  that if you put a marble on the old hardwood floor in the living room - you could watch it travel  past the kitchen and into the bathroom.

 I was allowed to paint the apartment as I wished.  There was no regulating the radiator heat - and sometimes we had to open the windows to cool the place off,  or turn on the gas stove and open the oven door to warm the place up.   Members of the "Swollen Members" Band lived across the street from me, and when I vacated my apartment,  a band member of Bif Naked (saw her in a Lilith Fair Concert with Sarah McLachlan )moved in.

I put an ad on the bulletin board at the local Internet cafe and thus got myself a really nice roommate - a young gal from Australia - she happened to be a psychologist, but couldn't practice in Canada...and ended up working instead as a tour guide on the gondolas up Grouse Mountain.

 I loved the movement of kids in and out of the apartment - there was a never ending assortment of interesting people...Kiwis, displaced Montrealers.....you name it.  My roomie would bring them home.  I worked nights at that point and since I slept like a rock during the day and was never home at night...it was a great arrangement.

Living downtown Vancouver was just a different atmosphere than any I have known.  It feels less like a city and more like a small village.  You can sit outside at any number of local coffee shops and restaurants year round.  The weather is that moderate.   People are friendly.  They smile and say "hi" as they go by.  You often see the same people over and over again.

 Even the street people were like family.  People living downtown would make sure the local street people were taken care of.   One of the  "givens" was that you would save your refundable bottles and put them out once a week for the local street people so they could come by with their carts and collect them and turn them in for cash.

I remember one young aboriginal guy that could be found on the same street corner every morning as I walked home.  He always had a cheery "Good morning" and a big smile as I would pass by.  Very friendly. Happy-go-lucky type.  Once in a while I would stop and talk.

 He never asked for money, but if it was something you wanted to do, he was open to offers. Always said "Thank-you! Have a nice day!" whether you gave or not. I never gave money - it's just my policy - but always food or items he might need.   Curious, I asked him how much he could collect in a day. 

"Oh - some days it's better than others.   I sometimes am lucky and can get $50 by noon.  If that happens I run to the store and buy myself a nice big steak to eat."  Life, to him, was pretty simple.

One morning, when passing by his usual spot on my way home from work,  I could see he was in rough shape.  He looked like crap. I stopped and asked if he was OK.   "My friends beat me up - we got into it" .   He had a deep gash on his elbow and  bruises to his face. Ripped clothes.  By the odor still wafting about him, I assumed perhaps they got into a fight while intoxicated.

"Can't you go to the clinic and get that looked after?" We were standing 10 feet from a Walk in clinic.   "There's also an emergency just around the corner" pointing in the direction of the hospital I was just leaving.

"No - I don't want to go to Emergency.....and the Clinic already told me they wouldn't take me."

I was thinking they probably would, more than likely he just felt uncomfortable going to either place.   I couldn't imagine that the clinic would refuse him.  First Nations are a part of the federally funded health care  - and definitely, he would be covered.  I could understand, though, why he would be reluctant to show up at either place looking like he did.  Gary** was usually fairly meticulous about his clothes.

I went into the drugstore next to the Walk In Clinic and bought some first aid supplies.  I showed him how he should clean the wound and how to put the bandages on.   I helped him apply the steristrips and  and then handed him the bag of supplies.   He promised me that he would take care of it every day.   "Don't let me catch you with an infected elbow" I warned him.

Then,  he just - disappeared.   I watched for him every day.   Then, as suddenly as he disappeared - a year later - he showed up in the same spot on his street corner just as if he had never left. 

"Gary! I missed you! Where did you go?? I was worried - where were you all this time?!"

"Oh...well....I had to go up to Bella Coola for a court appearance and they put me in lockup for a year."

"Geez, Gary.....stay out of trouble will ya?"

He smiled his usual big smile.  " I sure will. Thanks! Have a nice day!"

Quite the contrast from the MD that I worked with that was also First Nations.  Articulate and talented, not only was this MD was just finishing his Family Practice Specialty......but he was also a well known actor.   He was telling me that patients would recognise him all the time...which could be a little bit difficult at times.  He was on the shy side and quite reserved. 


My husband is part Native American - Apache/Comanche - and part Hispanic.  If anyone understands the struggles facing the Indigenous of America - he does.   Having struggled growing up in poverty and then facing prejudice throughout his life,  my husband is my hero.  Not only has he overcome the tribulations of his former life, but he has in fact achieved more than what he ever dreamed of.... surpassed it.

There was a feature on a TV program here in Canada of this young lady.....First Nations and a foster child for the first part of her childhood until a family took her in at age 6.  She has now graduated from Lakehead University -a first Nations University - and has her Bachelor of Education degree/Royal Conservatory Teacher Certification and presently teaches music and Ojibaway between gigs.

I often wonder at the paths people choose to get them to their particular destination in life. Or is it entirely their choice.....?





**Gary: not his real name

One Hundred Dollars

At a work function put on by our employer,  we had the chance to win some prizes.  There was "swag" with work logos   - the usual insulated travel cups, laptop bags, reusable shopping bags, key rings. There were foodies (very good! - catered by a local company) and desserts (deluxe cookies, caramel apples)  There were several gift cards for Starbucks for $50.   The first prize was $100 gift card for a Nice Local Restaurant Chain.

Anyway.  My number got drawn for the $100 gift card.  What to do?   I didn't really need it.  The closest restaurant was an hours' drive away.  Why not "regift"?

I gave the card to one of the gals I work with for a fund raiser.  Every Christmas she asks for donations of pajamas for needy kids at a local shelter ..... so I thought....what better use for this gift card?   She is going to have a raffle at work and someone is going to get a nice $100 dinner ....and there will be money to buy more jammies as the only brand-new gift of the year for those kids

.
The following week I had to go to the MD for an appointment.  The cortisone shot was usually covered by my MD visit, but this time, because my MD is in a new clinic - the policy is to charge $10 for the injection - I suppose to cover the cost of the cortisone/needle. 

They would only take cash.

 I had no cash on me, so I went to the bank machine in the same plaza.  A scruffy looking guy was in front of me - obviously a guy fresh off work - still dressed in his construction clothing.   I smiled at him as he took off with his cash and bank slip.  Poor guy looked tired. Probably had a rough day at work.

I was next up.

I tried to put my bank card in .....and nothing happened.  I punched in my request and up popped the screen.  Funny, I thought.  It usually asks for my PIN.   Out spat the $100 -  a little more than what I needed but - oh well.   I looked at my slip at the "remaining funds".

Way less than what should be in the account.

I pulled out my card.  I punched the "End Transaction" button.  Out pops another card.  Looking closely at the details on the slip I realized I had withdrawn $100 from someone else's account.  I thought of that tired looking construction guy.

I took the money and card and ran out the door - looking up and down for that guy that was in front of me.    Nowhere.  Gone.   Nothing to do but talk to the teller.  Explain to her what happened. Give her the $100 and the card.   She thanked me for "being honest" and told me that the person who belonged to the account is going to be very grateful - and would I like to leave my name and phone number so they could thank me?

 Uh - no thanks. Not necessary.

I would hope that anyone would return money that doesn't belong to them.  Why would that need thanks - doing what anybody should do?  Besides, as my husband reminded me later....they DO have cameras at each bank machine, and they could trace me down had I chosen not to return the money. 

$100 doesn't seem like much nowadays.  Even my own nieces and nephews barely acknowledge $100 when I send them the money in their Christmas card.   I remember when my Grandma (yes, the RN Grandma!)  used to send us a $1 bill in our birthday card every birthday.

 It was exciting getting that in the mail and I looked forward to that every year!  The things you could buy with a dollar back then!  One dollar meant the world to a little girl with next to nothing, whose only cash was from the occasional pop bottle fished out of the garbage in the campground - refunded at one cent apiece.  I couldn't even dream of one hundred of these....!


There are still people out there to whom $100 means the difference between a meal and going hungry.

I was just perusing the news and came across this article.  There is a blog written by an eccentric MD in Oregon..... she has decided to give $100 away every day this month in memory of her mother.   In giving something away,  in the end, she gets way more in return.

 
She calls it her "Blog of Hundreds".  Each day she gives some random person $100,  and each day she tells the story of what transpires.   If you have a moment, go and read her blog.  The stories are very inspirational, and you might even find a couple of them will put a tear in your eye.....

Fall colors

The leaves on our fence create the most spectacular array of colors. 

You can see some of the dark ivy mixed in with the lime green leaves.....and the blood red virginia creeper spilling over the top......

This is what I see from the Hottub when I take a little soak in the afternoon.

It is especially gorgeous when the sun shines through the fence and the table and chairs......

As you can see, we have a few tomatoes at different stages of ripening  - on our little table.

Then,  when dusk comes....the lights come on on the fence.
We have them on the fence year round.




This is what our fence looks like at dusk:

Post operative Incision Care Drama

I am so glad that when I had surgery last year,  I didn't have to have one of these put on me.   But I guess I wasn't about to lick my wounds "clean" or mess with them in any way......

HOWEVER.

It's amazing what people will do with their wounds - including scrubbing the incision with a rough facecloth, applying outdated polysporin they fished out of their "medicine drawer" that they had used previously on a dirty wound from ages past (applying with their fingers!), picking off their steri-strips the day after, taking a bath the same day, applying hydrogen peroxide or Mercurochrome or iodine to their  incisions.........

People! Don't do it!!! Leave it alone!  And just because you see a teeny spot of blood on a dressing doesn't mean you need to rip it all off!! A tiny bit of blood does not equal "dirty"....

Watch, of course, for increased swelling, pain, warmth, red streaks leading away from a wound, fever, drainage of pus, excessive bleeding (and ask what is excessive if you don't know!) or a wound that is gaping or extending.  ASK about when you need to change the dressing, if at all and make sure you get a print-out of instructions upon release from the hospital or MD office......and clarify anything you don't understand before you leave.

And, please - if your wound HURTS increasingly so - rather than taking  handfuls of ibuprofen or Tylenol -  there is a REASON for the pain....please go back to your healthcare provider for an assessment (don't wait until you have left yourself no choice but emergency care ).    Excessive amounts of these drugs can harm your liver /kidneys/stomach and overdosing (intentionally and unintentionally)  on these OTCs are the number one cause of hepatic (liver)  disease/failure in the USA.  Especially if you are liberal with your alcohol consumption or have Hep C and the like.

Please. If you are taking medications - read the instructions.  You would not believe how many people think that MORE is better.  It isn't.

There. That's my public service announcement for the day.