A few months before Christmas, I had an appointment for a specialist clinic. It was the sleep clinic.
Never have two words put a greater fear into me. Well not fear perhaps, that’s exaggerating slightly, but still I sleep, I just sleep at the wrong times and I’ve just made it work and I don’t want to change.
The doctor told me he’d book me into the sleep clinic for a sleep-over. I was concerned I had sleep apnoea. (it’s not only when you snore, but when you stop breathing) I woke with my throat, glands in my neck and nose feeling kinda weird, sore and dry, plus a dream or two where I’ve felt like someone was choking me. So, sleep clinic good.
The doctor told me he wouldn’t get me in before Christmas, but maybe before Easter, which gives you an idea how much of a waiting list there was and also how he didn’t think I was going to be at a rick of dying before he would book me in. So, all was good.
Until, I got a call early December, they had a cancellation before Christmas, did I want to come in Early?
FYI: ALWAYS SAY YES!
So, I was booked in about a week before Christmas. I parked my laptop, took my overnight bag with my PJ’s and my toothbrush, my dinner and off I went. I caught the tram from my door and the extra baggage was pretty hardcore pulling me off balance, but nearly took me.