A Break From the Hub Bub

Well, the garage sale is over. For now. We're taking this week off because the last two have completely exhausted us. Was it worth it? Yes. We got rid of a lot of things and we earned a fair amount of money. We didn't make enough to buy the saxophone we wanted, but that's okay. We're setting that money aside for now and renting one. All of the rental payments will go towards the purchase of an instrument. In the meantime, Son is teaching himself to play.

It was kind of fun in the story - Ekroth Music, in St. Cloud, MN. After determining we were not going to purchase an instrument, the woman at the store steered us toward an excellent student model. A Cannonball. She set Son up to play and had him give it a go. His first two efforts produced no sound at all. She coached him about how to do it and he made a single note. Then we began the paperwork. While we were doing that Son continued to work with the saxophone. Within fifteen minutes he was playing songs. The woman said she believed he would do fine. "In fact, it's scary how well he's picking it up."

I contacted Son's band instructor from school. He will meet with Son after July 4th. (He's going out of state to visit friends/relatives for a couple of weeks.) We're also going to contact Northwestern College in St. Paul, MN, to see about formal lessons. It's all pricey, but I'm looking at it as an investment in Son's future. Every musical instrument he has ever picked up he has done well with. Drums. Recorder. Tuba. Autoharp. Keyboards. And now Saxophone. Daddy was like that, and it looks like Son has inherited some of his grandfather's talent. To develop it honors God. To let it waste is a waste.

Today I go to the sleep apnea doctor. NOT looking forward to that. Answered the big questionaire. Spouse helped (because some questions are about whether I quit breathing during the night). Spouse laughed and said it seems more like she has sleep apnea than me. But my heart doctor is convinced I have it. My heart IS swelling, which is a symptom of sleep apnea. It also happens to be a symptom of diabetes, but because I'm so fat my heart doctor is convinced I have sleep apnea. According to the tests taken seven years ago I am borderline. I've always been borderline. As long as I don't have to go through the night of torture.

I suppose the reason I didn't fare well with the CPAP machine is that I am borderline. Those with definite, or even serious, sleep apnea problems, are so helped by the machine that they feel wonderful because of it. My symptoms are so minor that the machine becomes an encumberance. I'm just trading problems. So are the others, but when the benefits so outweigh the detriments it doesn't matter to them. For me, it's the reverse. But it's the only way to get my heart doctor to stop yelling at me about it.

There is another problem. (Of course there is.) My COBRA insurance runs out this summer. Once that happens I will not be able to afford the machine. Or my diabetes medicine. Or my stomach medicine. Think we can still swing the heart medicine.

I suppose there are some who would say the CPAP machine and medicines are more important than the saxophone. You're wrong. My son has a future. A real future. My future is make-believe. It's a mist, without any substance. It doesn't matter. Not really.