I’ve finally gotten used to the noise of the CPAP.
Mostly. I mean, I still have some trouble falling asleep if we go to bed at the same time but that’s honestly a me issue and it’s less with the CPAP than it was with the snoring. But the CPAP is officially part of the nocturnal soundscape now.
To such a degree that when our power went out one night (constant flooding: it sucks!) I noticed and was awakened by the sudden silence—not of the usual household hum, but of the CPAP.
ME: (bolts upright, smacks Husband)
ME: (huffs, relieved) Othankgod. I thought you were dead.
HIM: So you hit me?!
HIM: Good to know that’s how you’d handle it.
ME: … Why’s your CPAP off?
HIM: Did you hit it?
Yes, that little box has bought me two years of (relative) peace from the godawful snoring at a relatively low cost, all things considered.
Of course, the sort of asshole who falls asleep in ninety fucking seconds will also find a way to ruin a good thing.
ME: (tapping) Honey?
HIM: (breathes normally)
ME: (goes back to reading)
ME: You’re snoring.
ME: You’re snoring over the CPAP.
HIM: … Are you sure it’s me?