And then the oxygen test

It had all started innocently enough while I was having my pre-op and the nurse was checking off the list of ailments that may impede my survival of anaesthetic. The "sleep apnoea" box was ticked by me because someone once said I might have that - mainly because I snore a lot!

"Oh, yes!" pipes up Gloria, "I think he has sleep apnoea," and the nurse looked concerned.
"Look," says I, "the tests were inconclusive and I'm not symptomatic."

She didn't look convinced. "Do you snore?"
"Yes."
"Do you sometimes wake up with a gasp?"
"Yes, he does," says Gloria. "Scares me to death."
"Do you fall asleep for no apparent reason?"
"Nope."
"Feel tired during the day?"
"No."
"Hmmm," which, roughly translated, means I'd better refer you to someone else. Thanks Gloria! Think you should go back to being In Excelsis.

So, sure enough, along comes another letter - haven't they heard of phones or email? - summoning me to have a sleep oxygen test to see whether my oxygen levels drop at night.

I tootle back to the hospital and see a very nice lady who explains how to use the kit and instructs me to bring it back, or else. Fine. No problem. When I get to bed that night I show the kit to Gloria. She's not at all impressed, even though it comes with a magic red light and a nice elastic strap to fix it to my wrist overnight. When the light goes off, we can see that the end thingy that sits on your finger glows with a red light. Great fun - I can sneak it up near to Gloria and then reveal the magic finger of doom in the darkness!

I suppose I ought to take this sort of thing seriously a) at my age and b) under the circumstances, but I can't resist seeing the funny side. I'm sure that come Thursday when I have the op, the funny side might be a little more far distant, but we shall see!

Meanwhile, I have to wear the thingy again tonight ... I wonder what other fun I can have with it, under the covers?