Caitlyn, in the costume she tho\ught of and put together all by herself: Artemis, goddess of the hunt. Homemade costumes are the BEST. And Caitlyn? She rocks.

Halloween, 2009, our front yard.

When is “sorry” not enough?

It’s easy to stop restraining your own temper and hurt someone else because you’re tired or having a bad day. It’s often directed at the people with whom we’re the most comfortable and secure.

I’ve certainly done it – usually at my mother, children, or husband. And later, what a weak, mean schmuck I feel like.

So if you’re like me, you apologize and move on, right? And you get to feel all relieved, while the other person licks his/her wounds and has to just get over it. It helps if you know how to give a meaningful apology.

How to Apologize

1. Pick a time and place where you’ll have privacy and neither of you is rushed or distracted. But don’t wait too long. Arguments grow cold, resentments solidify, and the easy comfortableness of a relationship can wither.
2. Confess that you did wrong.
3. Acknowledge the damage to the other person. Stop and listen if you are guessing wrong.
4. Say, “I’m sorry.” The word “but” should not be anywhere near those two words. Not even in the same zip code.
5. Carefully consider whether explanations are helpful or if you are trying to justify your actions before you attempt to “put things in context.”
6. Say what you’re going to do to prevent the bad action in the future, and mean it.
7. Ask for forgiveness.
8. If you were hurt too, it’s legitimate to tell the other person so and say what explanations or future actions you want. But remember that your apology is not contingent on the other person’s. If you are truly considering the flaws in your own actions, you are not hinging your regrets or efforts to make amends on whether the other person is sorry too.
9. Do the preventative actions as you promised. For extra polish on your good soul, do them without calling attention to yourself.
10. Be extra kind for a little while.

And get on with life.

No one’s asking you to wear a hair shirt or feel pity for the person you hurt. Forgive yourself, but just expect that there are consequences for your actions and you must man up and deal with them. One of the consequences is that the other person may be more reserved for a while, if not permanently, depending on the nature of the conflict and whether your damage was habitual. You don’t get to have the stress relief of being abusive and then getting off scot-free by simply mouthing words or doing easy make-nice gestures; the other person, meanwhile, is hurt AND is having to tamp down a natural lash-back reflex when accepting the apology. People forgive, but the effects of your meanness linger. So who is the one who is really “paying” for it?

The other person is paying. And you should too.

My ridiculous pic from the first night of the sleep study. Rocking the sex-ay.

I’ll start wearing a CPAP mask and using the machine soon when I sleep; for now, I’m just waiting for the unit to arrive. My first mask will be the “pilot type” mask that covers both the mouth and the nose since I have allergies, frequently have a stuffy nose, and mouth breathe sometimes. And I really don’t want to wear a chin strap to keep my mouth closed. (Oh, I need to wear it all the time — days, too? Shut UP, y’all.)

Here are some pearls of wisdom I learned from my two nights at the local sleep study center to diagnose my (ugh) severe obstructive sleep apnea. I’ll bet you don’t read this anywhere else:

1. Your lips will get chapped if you use the larger mask that covers your mouth. I use Burt’s Bees Lip Balm … mmm, honey scented.
2. Don’t freak out if the mask sucks on your face. The second night of a sleep study is the “titration,” when they figure out what mask type and air pressure will work best for you. They adjust the pressure during the night and monitor your oxygen level. Even though I’m a deep sleeper, I about came up off the bed the first time the air pressure changed and that mask felt like it was sucking in and out on my face. Anyone who saw the first Aliens movie will understand why the creepiness factor redlined.
3. Face farts will also be part of your life. The mask gets a good seal to the face, but if you roll around a lot at night (particularly on your side) or if your mouth sags open, you could break the seal. With the air continuing to blow in, you can imagine the delightful sounds you make. (I swear … I’m going to just have to lose weight instead.)
4. You become a human leaf blower. The system blows out any extra air via a vent. I know this because my husband also wears a CPAP mask, and many is the night that he’s rolled over, snuggled up to my back, and blown a cold gust of CPAP air across my neck. We are going to be a gusty, happenin’ kind of couple.
5. Do you worry about suffocating if the power shuts off or the machine fails? I am that worrywart. But the sleep clinic’s staff assured me that the masks have a valve that will let room air flow in if that happens.
6. Cough or sneeze with the mask on. Just try. Go ahead, I want to watch. *snicker* It’s like throwing something into the wind. Talking is even weirder. The first time you open your mouth, the air blows in and ever so slightly inflates it.

With all that said, it’s worth it to wear. People with this condition are up to three times more likely to die prematurely. And like anything medical that you Google, it pops up a nightmare list of linked problems, particularly heart disease.

Sheesh! And I just wanted to quit doing the head bobs at my office desk. ;o)

And, of COURSE I turned the wrong way out of the driveway when we left. My trusty GPS got us home, even though it took us through some narrow gravel roads along the way.

Creative Commons, some rights reserved. Pic by Bearfaced.

Well, crap. Or make that “cpap.”

Looks like I have obstructive sleep apnea. Just got the results from my sleep study earlier this week:

• I stopped breathing 43.0 times per hour. Anything >30 is considered “severe.”
• My oxygen level dipped to 61%. Should be 90% or higher.
• The longest time I held my breath was 23.7 seconds.
• There were 30.9 episodes of shallow breathing.

Looks like I’m gonna Darth-Vader it up with a “continuous positive air pressure” (CPAP) mask at night, like hubby does. I go in next Wednesday to be fitted for “the mask.”

I’m now going to see if pouting helps.

Every time I see him like this with his big ol’ haunches and feet splayed out like this, I think, “Kangaroo.”

Remembering gas money: One of the eleventy-billion ways my husband says ‘I love you’, originally uploaded by cbahm. ]]> http://carolynbahm.com/2009/10/02/what-i-found-this-smorning/feed/ 0 http://carolynbahm.com/2009/09/30/to-sleep-perchance-to-snore/ http://carolynbahm.com/2009/09/30/to-sleep-perchance-to-snore/#comments Wed, 30 Sep 2009 13:20:00 +0000 Carolyn http://carolynbahm.com/?p=716 Snoring? Check. Talking in my sleep? Check. Restless legs? Check. Sleeping with eleventy-kabillion wire glued to me?

Yeah, check that too!

I went to the American Sleep Institute in Memphis for a sleep study last night. They wired my scalp, throat, chest, and legs and even taped little probes just barely into my nostrils to monitor all aspects of my sleep. And they have night-vision cameras to give visual checks as well.

This little expedition was a result of my telling my primary care physician that I’m always tired. Maybe it’s a result of the various meds I take, or the fact that I stay up way too late online. Or maybe, she said, I’m having some sleep apnea.

It’s funny — and not — that I have so much extra weight that I may have trouble breathing well at night. I should know the sleep study results in a couple of days. Details to follow!