Day 1: CPAP Class & The Face Hugger Diaries

Day 1 starts with CPAP class.

Yeah… apparently that’s a thing now.

Right out of the gate, they congratulate you on discovering that your body has been quietly trying to murder you every night while you sleep. Turns out when I’m unconscious, my body decides breathing is optional and just… stops.

My brain notices, freaks out, punches the panic button, and jolts me awake just long enough to gasp for air, then lets me fall back asleep so it can do it all over again.

Cool system. Very efficient. Zero stars.

In my case, I was stopping breathing 24 times an hour. Every hour. All night. Which explains why I’d wake up feeling like I slept two hours after being in bed for seven, why coffee was a food group, and why I’m on blood pressure meds.

So yeah… CPAP it is.

CPAP Class: Hookups, Hoses, and more oh my.

During class, they show you how to hook everything up; machine, hose, mask, and humidifier tank. Basically a NASA pre-launch checklist, but for sleeping.

They adjust how much air gets blasted into your face so you don’t feel like a dog tounge waving with its head out the window at high speed… indoors… in bed.

There’s also a humidifier, which helps with dry mouth and dry nose. It blows warm, moist air directly into your face, which feels weird at first, but less weird than waking up feeling like a beef jerky.

My machine is rent-to-own. Ten monthly payments and it’s mine. Miss requirements and they can take it back like a repo man in pajamas. I have to wear it at least 4 hours a night or insurance says, “Nah.”

Oh and yes, the machine tracks everything. There’s a SIM card inside reporting my sleep stats like a snitch.

Night One: Enter the Face Hugger

Night one arrives.

I fill the humidifier tank with distilled water (because tap water now apparently brain eating amoebas), strap on the mask, and prepare to be embraced by what can only be described as an alien face hugger.

You turn it on and it starts gentle, slowly ramping up the air. Not bad. Just… unsettling.

Two hours later, I wake up in full fight or flight mode and rip the mask off my face like I’m escaping a hostage situation. Heart racing. Mask gripped in my hand like I’m trying to keep a creature away from my face.

I calm down, put it back on, fall asleep… then do it again about an hour later.

Luckily, my wife wakes up and tells me to leave it on before I accidentally strangle myself with the hose.

Final tally: 4 hours and 20 minutes.

But here’s the messed-up part… I actually felt better. Not amazing, but better than I had in a long time. I wasn’t dragging all day and didn’t need to mainline coffee just to stay upright.

Night Two: Still Fighting the Alien

Night two wasn’t perfect either. I ripped it off three times, but still managed 4 hours and 30 minutes according to the app.

I woke up less foggy, more alert, and slightly suspicious. Like… is this thing actually working?

I didn’t trust it yet, but the evidence was stacking up.

Night Three: Acceptance Begins

Night three, I only ripped it off once and logged 5 hours and 15 minutes.

At this point, my body is starting to accept the alien attached to my face. Mornings are smoother. My brain is actually online. I’m moving faster and not questioning every life decision before work.

It’s not comfortable.
It’s not sexy.
But it’s doing its job.

Night Four: Full-On Symbiosis

I guess I can officially say I’m now in a symbiotic relationship with the Face Hugger 2000.

I didn’t rip it off once.

Not.. A.. Single… Time.

The timer showed 6 hours and 40 minutes, which shocked me. Somewhere between night three and night four, my brain finally stopped panicking and accepted that the alien isn’t here to hurt me, It’s here to keep me breathing.

That said… I did have a dream.

I dreamed about that scene in Spaceballs where the alien pops out of the guy’s chest and starts singing “Hello! Ma Baby.”

So yeah. The face hugger has officially moved into my subconscious and started decorating.

Worth it though.

I woke up feeling great. Real energy. Not caffeine-powered survival mode; actual, natural, body-working the way it’s supposed to energy. I honestly felt like I did in my 20s.

Hell… I might even say I felt ALIVE.

I’m hoping this isn’t just a temporary high while my body remembers what oxygen is. But so far, the trend is looking real good.

If this keeps up, I might actually start looking forward to bedtime.

And that’s something I never thought I’d say with an alien strapped to my face.