Day 12: More than six straight hours

Somewhere in the North Carolina Division of Tourism is a job description for a guy who, early each spring morning, sits in the back of an old beater truck atop a pile of dead possums, squirrels, raccoons and other smaller members of the varmint family and tosses them out at random on the state's roads.

As we headed home from the grocery store this morning, I noticed -- and not for the first time -- that you can't drive more than a 100 yards in North Carolina without seeing some critter squashed on the asphalt. It's no wonder that the buzzard is the state bird of North Carolina. OK, it's not really the state bird, but there are a heckuva lot of buzzards here, due in no small part, I'm sure, to the, um, bumper crop of road kill that each spring provides. If you're in North Carolina, I'll bet you could go out right now (assuming the sun's out) and look around the sky wherever you are and see one or more circling its latest snack. In any case, I thought I'd offer you that little observation unaccompanied by a picture. I'm sure you know what I mean.

The first time I awoke this morning it was still dark. I looked at the electric clock: 4:30. Wow. I actually slept more than six straight hours. You might not be impressed, but I am. That's quite unusual. Almost every night for the past several years has been punctuated by several episodes of being awakened, usually because of breathing or snoring issues. I pondered that for about five seconds this morning before I rolled over and went back to sleep until about 6:30.

I also spent the whole night in the bed. I guess the La-Z-Boy gets relegated to the living room again. Even with the sleep, my energy level is a little low. It may be any number of things, including the fact that getting food into me is a little more difficult with my jaws banded shut. Plus, I'm sure I still have quite the sleep deficit from so many years of apnea.

The tradeoff for the banded jaws, though, is that the drooling has become much more manageable. I'm still producing prodigious amounts of saliva, but I seem to be dribbling only a few times a day now, compared with the pre-Friday geyser. The swelling in my face has gone down, though I still have some chipmunk-ishness going on with the cheeks. Anyway, judge for yourself below.



While we were at the grocery store this morning, I ran into one of my coworkers, Pam Sander, who edits the Wilmington Magazine. I tried not to spit on her too much as we chatted about what's been going on at work. It made me sort of weepy because I can't be on the job right now. I've since got over it.

Today, Mary and I are going to go to a book sale at one of the brances of the local library. I'm sure I'll find something appropriately obscure and bizarre to keep me occupied for the next few weeks.