If It Isn't Traumatic Brain Injury Then It's Something Else

Getting old means a person can complain about illnesses and doctor visits on a daily basis to anybody within earshot. Complainers don't realize it but the ' within earshot' folks don't want to hear about complaining. They've got their own problems.

My neighbor is a case in point. He has been going to doctors on a weekly basis for over four years with a most serious type of cancer yet he never complains. He's the person we should all strive to be; positive, uplifting and always in good spirits. If he had a mouthful of bat scat and you asked him how he was doing his response would be, "I'm doing great and this stuff tastes like double dip chocolate ice cream".

I could apologize because many times in recent months I've detailed my medical issues. I could but I won't. Yes, I've suffered traumatic brain injuries from a series of youthful athletic concussions. But the reason I'm more than fascinated by this is because of what I've learned about the brain and how it functions. The brain is an amazing organ.

My neurologist suggested, no she ordered, I attend a sleep clinic to find out if I have sleep apnea and I do. So, now I'm preparing to snooze with one of those Darth Vader sleep masks hooked up to a machine. It'll be a struggle getting used to it but kids learn to adapt to braces so I can handle the inconvenience.

Basically, the attached tube forces air into the nostrils and into the brain. The oxygen is healthy for my noggin and will cause me to get a healthy nights sleep and awaken refreshed. Hopefully, I won't feel sluggish and in need of a nap during the hours of 8 AM until it's nighty night time. This is my normal modus operandi.

Sleeping has always been a struggle for me. I toss and turn: right side, left side, stomach and back to the left side, all night long.

The worst part of my sleep is that I dream what are called Technicolor nightmares. My dreaming centers around two coaching jobs I had and my favorite career job. In each the story line is always disastrous. Last night my wife awakened me because I was screaming and moaning. In this episode my students were so bad I expelled each and everyone of the little twerps. Then, at the end of the day, they all ganged up on me and subjected me to violent torture. And this was one of my better dreams. My athletic teams never win games. We are so bad and score so few points our cheerleaders are always covered in cobwebs. I always get fired then re-hired then fired again and on and on and on. In the job I loved my great boss allows me to work but never pays me so I always go back to coaching while working for him for zero dollars which means I'm a two-time loser.

I'm anxious to put on what's called a CPAP mask but only because it's a new experience. I'm more than interested in wearing it because I want to live longer and the gizmo will help. Plus, having a stroke or heart attack in the middle of the night isn't like going to a Final Four basketball game.

My wife will be happy since it eliminates the dreaded snoring. Of course, she snores like a logger cutting down a giant Sequoia but I don't have the heart to tell her. Smart husbands learn to pick their battles.

And, finally, my pocket book will jump for joy. Medicare covers the cost and that ain't all bad.