I was jostled awake by a firm nudge to my left leg. “Pretz, you’re snoring again.” (Pretz is short for Pretzel, which sounds a bit like Russell, hence the nickname. The fact that pretzels are generally twisted has nothing to do with it---I’m almost certain.) This mid-night awakening resulted in a familiar mumbled apology and a shuffling off to the spare bedroom.
The subject was revived in the light of day. “Not only are you snoring, but it's as if you stop breathing for a while, and then start up again.”
“That’s disconcerting,” I said. “For a long-suffering wife, it must be like receiving a pardon from the governor, only to have it snatched away thirty seconds later.”
Donna replied, “Thou hast said.”
Actually, my lovely wife was sympathetic, and she urged me to go forthwith to a sleep clinic---to have my head examined.
One night a few weeks later I was in a cozy room with a bazillion wires attached to my head.
“Try to just relax and sleep as you normally do," the technician said.
“I don’t normally sleep with a bazillion wires attached to my head.”
“I suspect you don’t normally sleep normally at all---that’s why you’re here.”
I politely explained to her that in my stories I prefer to ascribe to myself any remarks that could be construed as clever.
After a few days I was told the results were in, and I went to see the doctor. Those of you with a medical background may know him as a Sleepologist, Dreamician, Nocturnist or Snornithologist, but to me he was just the sleep doctor. An older gentleman hailing from the Hudson River Valley, Dr. Van Winkle, told me that on the night I was tested I had “only danced on the edges of deep sleep.” This came as a complete shock to me.
“So, I can dance?”
The Dr. was not amused. He said, “This is a serious condition. You have Sleep Apnea."
He explained that about forty times an hour (not counting spousal kick----er---loving nudges) I was being startled out of healthy sleep into what we might call the twilight zone, if the phrase was still available for public use. The condition has something to do with muscles relaxing in the back of my throat, closing off the airway, which turns on the Check Lung light in my brain. My ever-vigilant brain immediately sends a jolt to my lungs to jump-start them. The doctor explained that this chain of events has two negative consequences. The first is that all these signals and jolts are preventing me from falling into REM (Rapid Eye Movement) Sleep.
I protested. “I don’t really want my eyes moving rapidly when I sleep. I want them to rest.”
“REM Sleep is a good thing,” he maintained. “It benefits your heart and all internal organs, which need deep sleep to be rejuvenated each night.” (He pronounced that word re-YU-venated, as any authentic doctor does). “The second problem is that your breaths are irregular---sometimes as long as 45 seconds apart.”
“I’m not breathing for 45 seconds? That’s about as long as I can hold my breath underwater; maybe I’m dreaming that I’m swimming.”
“Your brain is starved for oxygen at night; this can lead to an early demise, or to a loss of brain function, which I suspect may have already taken place in your case.”
“Excuse me; did you say…”
“I want you to try a CPAP machine.
“CPAP?”
“Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. It’s a little machine that blows air into your nostrils all night.”
“How is my nose supposed to get any rest with that machine blowing air in all night? That reminds me, Doctor; I should mention while I’m here that I hate it when my foot falls asleep during the day.”
“Yes, Dr. Van Winkle said, “because then you know it will be awake all night. That one was making the rounds in the 1800’s. I want you to come back and try sleeping with a CPAP machine. We’ll have to find a mask to fit you; that’s critical.”
“Neat. I get to wear a mask?”
This was exciting to me. Several of my childhood heroes wore masks--- men like Zorro, the Lone Ranger and Robin Hood. But in my particular adult calling it turned out that I had little use for a mask.
“That’s what you think, Rusty. You could have worn one all these years for the benefit of the congregation."
Thank you, friendly nemesis Tommy, for your sole contribution to this story.
Some would argue that Robin Hood didn't wear a mask, but I recall that he wore one on special occasions, as when he was competing in Nottingham archery contests devised to capture him. I also remember from my childhood that he daily applied something called Wildroot to his hair, and highly recommended it. Evidently while some of his men fashioned arrows from Sherwood Forest branches, others produced hair products from the wild roots.
Speaking of Robin Hood, I read that when Jay Leno was in elementary school (third grade as I recall) his teacher was explaining to the class that if the Sheriff of Nottingham caught Robin and his Merry Men, he threatened to “boil them in oil.”
“But he wouldn’t boil Tuck,” little Jay quipped.
“Why not?” the teacher asked.
“Because he was a fryer.”
His teacher laughed, and later, walking by the Teachers’ Lounge, Leno heard her repeating the joke to others; he says that on that day his vocation was determined.
[Thank you, Robin and Jay; I think you may be excused. Friar Tuck, if you can wait a few minutes, I may need your help with the devotional thought.] As I was saying, I was excited that I would get to wear a mask each night, but it wasn’t a cool mask like the one worn by the Lone Ranger or Zorro; it was a mask that makes you look like an alien creature that can’t survive in Earth’s atmosphere without assistance.
Fast forward several years:
As with many other ideas that look good on paper, it turns out that a machine that forces air into your nose all night is not as effective as one might imagine. For one thing, rushing air tends to make noise. If I were asked to describe it, I'd say it sounds a lot like---what's the word----Wind. If you've ever opened the window of a car traveling on an interstate, you’ve heard the same sound made by the machine.
To be clear, if the CPAP mask forms a tight seal over your face, there is very little sound, but you must have a standard issue face, and it is crucial that you remain fairly still throughout the night. Changing your position may break the seal, resulting in your own private Pentecost ("a sound like a mighty rushing wind" filling the whole house). At that point, you’re as likely to sleep as a dog hanging out of a car window on the NASCAR Circuit.
I now suspect that CPAP really stands for Can’t Prevent a Premature Passing. (Yes, technically that would be a CPAPP Machine, but most people don’t read Wry Bread stories for technical accuracy---come to think of it, most people don’t read Wry Bread stories at all.)
The Bread:
I suppose that after the sad events in the Garden of Gethsemane on the night that Jesus was arrested, his dear friends and disciples, Peter, James and John might have wished that one of them had a condition that would have kept him from deep sleep. Jesus had made it clear that he would be betrayed into the hands of the Chief Priests and Scribes that night.
All of you will be made to stumble because of me this night, for it is written: “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.’ But after I have been raised, I will go before you into Galilee.” (Matthew 26:31)
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane, and said to the disciples, “Sit here while I go and pray over there.” And He took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, and he began to be sorrowful and deeply depressed. Then he said to them, “My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with me.” (Matthew 26:36-38)
These three disciples, who seemed to be the closest to Jesus, were aware that this was the critical night. Surely, they would have discerned Christ’s agony of soul, and we know they heard Him say that His soul was “exceedingly sorrowful, even to death." He asked them to “watch with me,” which they would have understood as a heartfelt request that they should pray for Him in His darkest hour---his time of deepest anguish of soul.
He went a little farther and fell on his face and prayed, saying, “O my Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.”
The King James translation best captures the original Greek when Mark reveals that Jesus "began to be sore amazed." (Mark 14:33) The word is an intensified form of thambazo, which means to be amazed, horrified, as when one's hair stands on end. What could possibly bring the Lord Jesus to such a state? Clearly, as he agonized in prayer, he was beginning to feel the great weight of every sin of every believer being laid upon Him; he was beginning to taste for the first time, since the beginning of time, not only his Father’s displeasure, but his Father’s wrath. Jesus returned to Peter, James and John and found them, not as we might expect, beseeching the Father on his behalf that he might be sustained in this, his greatest trial; he found them sleeping.
He said to Peter, “What! Could you not watch with me one hour?”
We can only imagine the shame they must have felt to know that they had disappointed their Lord at this critical time. So surely when He returned the second time He would find them huddled together---perhaps standing to resist the temptation to sleep, fervently interceding for Christ, as the Hour of Darkness engulfed Him. But sadly, we read, “He came and found them asleep again, for their eyes were heavy.”
He went apart again and prayed in such a titanic struggle that the Scripture says he was sweating profusely----so much so that the moisture didn’t just glisten on His skin, it fell to the ground in droplets, as blood would drip from a wound. (Luke 22:24)
Weary from the spiritual battle, Jesus returned to his disciples. We would think that these three, among his dearest friends on earth, who had experienced the pain of failing their Lord twice on this night of his greatest need, would be alert and in prayer upon his third return. But no! Again Jesus found them sleeping, even as men came to arrest him.
“Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand, and the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.” And while he was still speaking, behold, Judas, one of the twelve, with a great multitude with swords and clubs, came from the chief priests and elders of the people. (Matthew 26:45-47)
That night, the disciples could not stay awake, although they had the strongest motivation to do so. The irony is that the memory of miserably failing Christ on the night before his crucifixion probably interfered with their sleep on many a subsequent night. Paul indicates that the Apostles were married, with himself being the notable exception (I Cor. 9:5). How many times Peter James and John were jostled awake by their wives for thrashing during nightmares is not told us, but I suspect the number is not inconsiderable. I picture them waking with a start---remembering Christ coming to them in the garden. But they would have been comforted by the assurance that Jesus knew that “The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41) And they would have adjusted their masks and drifted back to sleep, assured, as the Apostle John put it, that “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)
That’s the sort of comfort that can bring true REM Sleep to the Soul,
Redeemed Evermore by Mercy Sleep.
I hope that you experience such sleep, this and every night.
Afterthought: You can introduce others to this curious blend of humor and biblical truth by sharing this on social media. Just click an Icon below. Trust me, if you know you've shared God's Word today, you'll sleep better tonight.
Loved it!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Geneva!
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