Politics and sleep apnea

With less than a week to go before the General Election, I am so tired of the presidential race.

I know it’s important, but I want it to be over.

But it won’t be over come Nov. 9. Or 10. Or 11 or 12, either. No matter who wins, the other side — either the candidate, their surrogates, or their supporters — will continue to make noise.

I’m enough of a history buff to know that there have been many messy national elections. This is just one more in a long list.

What makes this one different is that social media — specifically Facebook, at least for me — has played a major role.

Facebook is a great platform for keeping up with friends and relatives.

It’s also a great platform for yelling, screaming, terrorizing and a whole lot of other verbs. It is an example, at least outwardly, of democracy in action. Everyone has a voice.

Seems that a lot of people don’t remember their seventh-grade civics — the United States is NOT a democracy. We’re a democratic republic. Our founding fathers had the foresight to understand that a pure democracy would turn into gridlock. The founders could never have envisioned Facebook, but they foresaw what it’s doing. Everyone is yelling, but nothing gets done.

I choose to not post political things on Facebook because I believe that I won’t change a single person’s mind. Not one. I’ve been watching many Facebook quarrels, some going on for months, but I have yet to see A SINGLE PERSON announce that they changed their mind on a national issue. Not one. So, why bother? My guess is that it makes people feel important, educated, smart, or strong — but they don’t see that they are simply flailing away. Seems to me they are shadowboxing, at best. At worst, they are helping drive a wedge into our country, helping to split it, just like a huge elm log splits into pieces if enough wedges are driven deep enough.

Earlier I said it seems outwardly to be a democracy. But it’s not. Your feed is at the mercy of a computer program that decides what you see. I’m amazed at the number of people I talk to who don’t realize that. I’ve got hundreds of friends, yet, only a few dozen seem to be active on Facebook. Turns out, the people I never see in my feed are active, but for whatever reason Facebook decides what I get to see. Same with political posts: If I click on enough Labrador retriever and duck-hunting links, I’ll suddenly start seeing a lot more of that. If I click on a lot of Hillary-positive posts, more of that.

Someone cleverly called it the echo chamber. The outcome is that people only see things with which they agree, thus creating a false universe, a place where all they see agrees with them. Trying to argue with someone in the echo chamber simply results in their absolute denial of an opposing view, refusal to even consider they could be wrong.

At some point, that’s not good for friendships, nor countries.

Sunday, my pastor preached about elections, at one point reading from Titus, specifically 3:1-2: Remind them to be subject to rulers and authorities, to be obedient, to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show every courtesy to everyone.”

I truly wish we could all apply that to social media.

Then my Facebook feed could get back to puppies, and cats and cute babies.

••• A few months ago, during a Rotary Club meeting, Dr. Dimitry Fomin, a specialist in sleep medicine, was guest speaker.

As he spoke he simply affirmed what I knew but didn’t want to admit: I have all the symptoms of having sleep apnea.

Back in high school, on backpacking or canoe trips with friends, each night in the tent they’d talk to me in an effort to get to sleep before I did, because my snoring would keep them awake if I fell asleep first. It was a big, running joke. But it’s no joking matter. My wife, Natalie, and the kids, say I snore — terribly. And seem to hold my breath. Big deal. Well, Dr. Fomin will tell you, it is a big deal because it will kill you. And it affects all the body’s systems.

So I made an appointment. After a consultation, I got to spend the night for a sleep study. With dozens of electrodes attached to my head, chest and legs, I went to sleep. Next morning I felt like I got a typical night’s sleep.

The study shows I stopped breathing an average of 15 times an hour and my blood oxygen level dropped to dangerously low levels. Each time I stopped breathing, the fail-safe in my brain woke me up to start breathing again.

All that translates into I NEVER, in seven hours of sleep, I NEVER entered the deep-sleep cycle. No wonder I fought off sleepiness all day long. I never got a good night’s sleep.

A few weeks later, I went back in for a night of study using a CPAP machine. Who’s the genius that wondered, “Can I make this guy quit snoring by blowing air up his nose?” Turns out, that does the trick, because the constant air pressure forces the trachea to stay open.

Two weeks ago, I picked up my own CPAP machine, complete with a device that’s sort of like a mask, but without face — just the rim, with the bottom hooking under the nose. There are many models of devices to get the air in the nose: I chose this one because it was most comfortable for me.

That night, I put on the gear, sat on the edge of the bed, turned on the machine — which, oddly, makes almost no sound but produces an astonishing flow of air. I lay back in bed, and waited. Sometime later I awoke when the headgear came a bit loose and air was whooshing out, rather than going up my nose. I readjusted and went back to sleep.

Next morning Natalie said that I did not snore. Not once.

I always sleep on my side or stomach — but never on my back. Never.

That night, all night — and every night since, I have

slept almost entirely on my back. Typically, I’ll sort of roll onto one side, then the other, but it’s only minutes before I’m back on my back.

I now fear something new: The electricity going off for the night. If that happens, then, instantly, I’m back to snoring, to stopping breathing, and to not getting deep sleep. That’s a place I don’t ever want to return to.

Not fighting off drowsiness all day long is wonderful. Not yawning all the time is awesome. Thinking clearer is spectacular. And not banging myself on the head to stay awake while driving is a lot safer, for me and for everyone else.

If you think you have sleep apnea, stop ignoring it. See a specialist. You’ll sleep better, your family will sleep better.

And most important, you’ll live longer.

• • • For more information on sleep apnea, go to www. mayoclinic.org and search for sleep apnea.

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