A Miserable Fortnite

My missing posts have been due in part to malaise, sleep deprivation, a busy schedule, and laziness. The trip to Pittsburgh proved all for naught as the ordered trache was the wrong size. We returned after only one days visit, a bit disgusted with the personnel in the office for causing an eight hour trip for nothing. The only salvation was that we were able to see a few friends and family. The next ten days began a consecutive stint of sleep deprivation. Robin tried in vain to replace the defective trache with a contingent of older tubes, canulas, and even makeshift apparatus. She even tried her McGiver techniques on fashioning something new with a Dremel tool to fit into my neck and down my windpipe. Some of these things worked as far as breathing went but they didn’t allow for lying down. Therefore, sleeping had to be done in a chair and it seemed whatever the device, it worked it’s way out during ing course of the night. Breathing with sleep apnea and a host of these devices led to a fortnight of sleep deprivation.  However, this was not the major issue. As the time passed, the opening in my neck and windpipe kept closing and becoming smaller and smaller. Each new device had to be a bit smaller in diameter so as not to continue bludgeoning my inner workings. Finally, the discomfort got the best of me and the past few days were sans any breathing device. On Monday, we made the trip back to the surgeon with the correct trache and visited the hospital for a fitting. He was astounded when he saw that I had no breathing device in my neck. Apparently, communication from his secretaries and physician assistants didn’t alert him to the severity of the problem. Taking one look with a pair of hemostats, he immediately knew that there would be no way in hell any trache would fit into my throat. The body heals itself as an amazing piece of work. But in my case, this healing (closing of the trache opening) proved counter productive. A little disappointed, we had to leave with nothing being done. But I truly believe the adage that “when one door closes, another one opens”. Perhaps this well be a blessing in disguise. I have procured an old CPAP, and jury rigged the inner workings to adjust the right amount of airflow that it seems I need. For the past two days I have been able to lie in a bed and actually sleep through the night. Sure, a mask on my face isn’t particularly fashion trendy and it’s taking some getting used to, but sleep is a welcome trade-off. So now, after three years I am without a trache. The feeling is bittersweet. It was my safety net for breathing as the titanium windpipe is much smaller in diameter than my original. But it was unnatural and not to have some foreign object protruding from my throat is sublime. Perhaps this week will find things getting back to normal once again. Pulling into Lake in Wood, we both found ourselves voicing in synchronicity that it was good to be “back home”. Like I said earlier, perhaps another door is opening that I’m unaware of at the present.