Words by Tasmin Pepler // photo by Wiwat Khamawai
I always thought of myself as a pretty decent sleeper. I mean, sure, I snore like a chainsaw in a wind tunnel and my partner has gently (and not-so-gently) nudged me awake approximately a million times—but doesn’t everyone? Turns out: no. Everyone does not.
After one too many mornings of waking up feeling like I’d been out all night (spoiler: I hadn’t, unless you count my thrilling 10 p.m. cup of chamomile tea), I finally decided to get checked out. And that, friends, is how I learned about sleep apnea.
But before we get to that fun discovery, let me walk you through the Greatest Hits of Clues That My Sleep Was Trying to Sabotage Me:
It started with the headaches. Every morning, like clockwork, I’d wake up with my skull feeling like it had been used as a drum in a very enthusiastic marching band. I blamed everything except the real culprit: screen time, dehydration, my pillow, my neighbor’s overenthusiastic guard dog. My headaches turned to migraines which I can assure you are much worse than just an ache in your head. Migraines can also cause nausea, sickness, and sensitivity to lights.
Then there was the daytime brain fog. I’m talking can’t-string-a-sentence-together, why-did-I-walk-into-this-room levels of confusion. I told myself it was just age, or maybe parenting, or both. But no amount of coffee or sleep could touch it. I tried yoga, diet changes, countless physios and nothing helped.
And then there was the plain old mystery exhaustion. I’d wake up feeling like I’d run a marathon in my sleep—except I hadn’t; I’d just been lying there, apparently doing my best impression of a broken accordion all night. No matter how early I went to bed, I felt like I needed a nap by 10 a.m. I blamed stress, work, the alignment of the planets—anything but my actual sleep. Turns out, when you stop breathing a bunch of times an hour, your body doesn’t exactly get that “rested and refreshed” vibe in the morning. Who knew?
And now we circle back to the glamorous sleep apnea diagnosis. If you’re constantly waking up feeling like you’ve barely slept, don’t assume it’s just your mattress. In my case, I was pausing my breathing at night like it was some kind of extreme sport. Not ideal.
After I took part in a sleep study (a very strange experience, I highly reccomend!), sleep apnea was the very clear and very obvious verdict.
Now? I’ve got my CPAP machine, which, I’ll admit, took a little getting used to. The first few nights felt like I was gearing up for a moon landing. But honestly? The difference is wild. The headaches are easing, my brain fog is lifting, and I no longer feel like I’m starring in a never-ending zombie film. My partner says the silence at night is almost unsettling, but we’re both sleeping better for it. If you think you have sleep apnea, you can contact ent care for sleep apnea for more help and information.
So here I am: a little older, a little wiser, and a lot more appreciative of being able to breath at night. If you’re feeling off, don’t just shrug it off as “getting older.” There’s always something you can do—and trust me, you’ll feel better when you do it.
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