The Perhaps Part of Transition

“Perhaps I will sleep tonight.”

I was half-joking by using the word perhaps. It’s not a word I commonly choose. But I was already pondering what to write today and how to use the word. So here I am hours later and that sentence is my inspiration.

There was truth in my statement this morning. I was already starting to worry about whether or not sleep would come easily tonight. Soon enough I’ll find out.

What is the cause of my newest anxiety over sleep? This time it’s not the storm, although pieces of that situation are still unsettled. Nope. Another change happened in the past couple of weeks. I wasn’t expecting it or thinking the change would happen so fast. But it did.

I went to the “lung” doctor recently for my check-up and mentioned how frustrated I was with the medical supply company. The whole thing came about when they informed me I could no longer order my mask for my breathing machine.

“Discontinued? What do you mean? I’ve used this same mask since 1999…none of the other ones have worked for me.”

Basically I’ve used the same mask from the beginning of my days with the BiPap. (Very similar to a C-Pap, if you’ve ever heard of that.)

When it comes to medical equipment, I do not like change. It takes me long enough to adjust the first time. And the process can be hard because it affects quality of sleep and sleep is pretty important.

The same is true for other changes I’m required to make every now and then. New leg braces. New power wheelchair. New breathing machine.

Transition that directly affects my physical body is one I tend to delay for as long as possible.

As a child, I was always glad to be a slow-grower. That meant fewer casts, those removable splints I used to wear at night for therapy. I could also wear my leg braces for much longer because my feet rarely changed. And my first wheelchair lasted for 13 years, from 2nd grade to the middle of college. We made lots of adjustments to extend the life of that chair, especially lengthening the leg pieces. There was no more room without the footrests falling off. Literally.

Back to my breathing machine and sleep anxiety… a man came by the house today and brought me a new machine. I already had a new mask, but I’ve been putting off the switch. Sometimes a new mask leaves a mark on my face and I become overly conscious of that spot. Now there’s a new machine to replace the old clunky one. My biggest worry: it’s too quiet. I hardly hear the airflow. I loved the white noise from my old machine.

But there are really good things with this type of transition. Like technology for my doctor to better monitor my health.

My lungs are stable and sleep isn’t normally a problem. We’ll see how tonight goes. I’m tired enough…perhaps I will sleep.

I’ll accept this transition. However, I confess, I’m much less willing to change to a new wheelchair. That’s a whole different story. Perhaps I’ll tell you soon.