Monday Musings- Pain in the Giant Neck and Nose

I have a giant neck. I also have thick sausage fingers that hinder the pace of my typing. I need a keyboard with keys the size of shoe boxes to effectively type.
I acquired these features from my father. The tiny butt and hair that grows out instead of down, I get from my mom.

Bring Me Some Beers

According to Piskura lore, one of my great-grandmothers was a Russian gypsy who lived out of a wagon with her traveling brood. One of my great-grandfathers was a man with sausage fingers (see above) who used to bite into tables and lift them with his head to win free beers. In order to accomplish this, he needed a strong, thick, neck. A thick Cossack neck. Thanks GG Krasnak.

The Turtle

My thick neck has been the source of some ridicule. When I smile for pictures, my chin disappears into my neck, and when I take selfies from a low angle, my head looks like it has been drawn on a balloon. I have also endured being called the Turtle due to the lack of distinction between my neck , head and chin.

Woes R Me

The fun doesn’t end there. Aside from aesthetics, my thick neck has caused me other difficulties. The average neck size for a men’s button-down is 16 1/2. My neck is 18 1/2 making buying standard shirts an issue. Most tailors will gauge your girth based upon your neck size, but my neck requires me to buy XXL shirts that look boxy, or to give up completely on the notion of ever wearing a tie.

Fortunately, my tenure in the teaching profession allowed me to dress business casual which means I could get away with polos, or sweater vests, or other distractors from my unbuttoned dress shirts. No shorts. God forbid. No shorts.

This took care of routine days, but not special functions in school and out. Open House, graduation, chaperoning formal dances, funerals, weddings, sports banquets – they all require a tie. You try pressing your fleshy neck into a tight-fitting collar, then noosing up a tie flush with your bulging Adam’s apple to make it even more uncomfortable. Just act natural, and try not to pass out.

Dream Police

At night, I wish I could pass out. My heavy neck has made me a snorer, and as a bonus, has caused me severe sleep apnea. I did the sleep study, and I stopped breathing 50 times in a hour. Yes, I stopped breathing almost every minute. That sounds healthy and restful. No wonder I was a zombie until about noon.

My pulmonary specialist suggested three methods of correction. First, you can have a dental appliance fitted. Apnea is too severe. Strike One. Second, you can have uvula shaving surgery. Yes, uvula shaving surgery. It only works about 50% of the time, and due to the size of your neck (size of my neck), you don’t qualify. Strike Two. Lastly, you can sleep with a CPAP machine.

Who’s Your CPappy?

CPAP stands for Continuous Positive Airway Pressure. Sounds lovely. Basically you wear a mask and oxygen is pumped into your airway while you sleep. Your sleep is refreshing and will stave off medical complications. Here’s the issue: You can’t sleep.

My first one was a full mask (picture Top Gun) and prohibited me from not only sleeping on my stomach but my side as well. I would wake-up on my stomach with the mask all cockeyed and grooves in my face etched by mask, itself.

“We have made multiple improvements since then.” Sure. My current machine has a long rigid tube attached to headgear that has a rubber piece that just covers my nostrils. They had one that would go up my nostrils, but I’m a bleeder.

You fill a chamber with water (distilled water only), and the water heats up creating air and vapor and this is pushed up your nose. The first night, I thought I was suffocating. I tried to breathe out of my mouth, but the “ramp up” wouldn’t allow it, nor allow me to talk. Travesty. I also removed the hose to use the bathroom. With the hose now coming out of the top of the unit (an improvement?), you are able to sleep on your side, but in the mirror, you resemble one of those old time movie characters with a toothache and head wrap. I am the picture of desirability.

Since moving to SC, the fit and comfort have only gotten worse. The tube never dries, and due to the humidity, the cheek attachments stick to your face. I can sleep on my side, with some engineering wizardry, but I wake up with water all over my face. I can choose to not wear it once a week, and I am diligent and giddy about planning that nght’s slumber.

LOOKS COMFY. IT”S NOT

The battle is now real and psychological. Insurance requires me to wear it for a certain amount of time to obtain the therapy, but when I struggle to sleep, it does not seem therapeutic.

Whipping Whiplash

I promised Eileen, my friends and my readers that I would not just complain. I even asked my teaching colleagues to try to avoid it. Therefore, next week, I will muse about the benefits of having a thick neck and the apple falling farl from the family tree.

Thanks for having me Mom and Dad.

Thank you for reading.

Love and laughter.

P.