You may recall that the cardiologist wondered if I have sleep apnea. Yesterday afternoon the technician arrived to test me.
4:30 in the afternoon and he told me I'd have to get into my pyjama (that's French). After a few alterations on the straps that attach the machinery -- "You're so thin!" he kept saying. I'm not, but I guess his usual client is obese -- we began to make headway.
To start, strapped around my upper chest, came the box that records everything. It is not comfortable, and, worse, it kept sliding and pressing on the plastic chamber in my chest. I got permission to move it slightly sideways.
I forget what got plugged in first, but it had to be taped, securely and abundantly, to my neck. Good thing I have my own tape; what he brought I'm allergic to (a component starting with S that I never quite catch).
Next came the belt to measure my breathing. Or something. Then two electrodes, one under each collar bone, for the heart. Then the breathing tube. I didn't have to start breathing through it until 11:30, so we had a demonstration: Nose piece in nose, hooks facing up, wrap tubes around ears, bring back to chin, tighten tubes with thingy, tape tubes to sides of face, so nothing moves.
Next, demonstration of flashing red light pocket, a sensor for blood oxygen. Index finger in, not protruding from end, wire taped to arm in two places.
All of this stuff gets plugged into the box, sort of like USB ports.
Trussed and cranky, I'm a walking fire hazard and the lovely dinner I was going to prepare as part of my new turmeric regime, is out. (Nick made pasta.)
And here she is. It's finally 11:30 and I'm in bed! Have you no shame, woman?
4:30 in the afternoon and he told me I'd have to get into my pyjama (that's French). After a few alterations on the straps that attach the machinery -- "You're so thin!" he kept saying. I'm not, but I guess his usual client is obese -- we began to make headway.
To start, strapped around my upper chest, came the box that records everything. It is not comfortable, and, worse, it kept sliding and pressing on the plastic chamber in my chest. I got permission to move it slightly sideways.
I forget what got plugged in first, but it had to be taped, securely and abundantly, to my neck. Good thing I have my own tape; what he brought I'm allergic to (a component starting with S that I never quite catch).
Next came the belt to measure my breathing. Or something. Then two electrodes, one under each collar bone, for the heart. Then the breathing tube. I didn't have to start breathing through it until 11:30, so we had a demonstration: Nose piece in nose, hooks facing up, wrap tubes around ears, bring back to chin, tighten tubes with thingy, tape tubes to sides of face, so nothing moves.
Next, demonstration of flashing red light pocket, a sensor for blood oxygen. Index finger in, not protruding from end, wire taped to arm in two places.
All of this stuff gets plugged into the box, sort of like USB ports.
Trussed and cranky, I'm a walking fire hazard and the lovely dinner I was going to prepare as part of my new turmeric regime, is out. (Nick made pasta.)
And here she is. It's finally 11:30 and I'm in bed! Have you no shame, woman?
Results next week?
