16
I lay awake and listen to the sounds of the night. The ringing in my ears – that constant single frequency. The sound that exists under it – a dull roar, like holding a seashell to your ear, only the report’s so low it’s almost inaudible. The hiss of air from my CPAP machine. My own shallow breathing. Sometimes I hear other things, like little footsteps charging over the roof. Possums. Well, it has to be. When I’m in my study, it’s not unusual to hear them leap onto the fence in the backyard. Or, sometimes, if I have friends over, when I escort them out late at night, we…
03
I lie in bed listening to the steady hiss of the CPAP machine. About ten years ago, I was diagnosed with sleep apnea. That’s when you stop breathing during sleep so your brain panics and rouses you just enough to get the breathing restarted. Because that mini-awakening happens, you don’t descend into a deep, restorative sleep. After I was tested, I was told I had forty-seven instances an hour, although one sleep tech during one another test told me I kicked lots in my sleep, so that might’ve confused the results. One doctor said it was unusual for me to have a case of sleep apnea at all given my…