My new partner in the bedroom

How sleep apnea nearly wrecked more than just my truck.

Earlier this year, I did something incredibly dumb.

I fell asleep at the wheel. While driving. With my 8-year-old son, Isaac, in the car.

We’re okay. He’s okay.
My truck… not okay.

We took out an old rusty fence post, which I’m pretty sure wasn’t doing much for curb appeal anyway. But it could have been so much worse. That thought haunts me.

I didn’t doze off because I was being careless. I wasn’t up bingeing TikToks or pulling an all-nighter on NBA 2K. I was just… exhausted.

The kind of tired that makes your eyelids feel like weighted blankets.

The kind that sneaks up at stoplights, in church, or in meetings where you’re the one talking.

And it turns out, I wasn’t just normal tired.

I was sleep-apnea-level tired.

Severe.

AHI score of 101, which I’ve been told the passing grade is under 5 and anything over 30 means “Please see a doctor yesterday.”

I quite simply wasn’t really sleeping. Ever.

I’d go to bed and wake up, but my body never clocked out. I have been running on fumes, and my family, especially my boys, have been riding shotgun with me through it all.

So, I started this week on a CPAP machine.

A little device that makes me look like a retired X-Wing pilot.

I didn’t love the idea at first. There’s something about needing a machine to sleep that makes you feel old… like really old.

But, it’s been a few nights, and I feel different.

Not perfect. But more like me.
A little less foggy.
Starting to be a little more present.
Hopefully a whole lot less likely to veer into shrubbery.

I’m excited for this newfound hope and energy.
The kind of energy that makes other hard things feel doable.
Like getting healthier.
Playing more. Laughing louder. Showing up.

This was a wake-up call for me. Literally. I can’t be there for the people I love if I’m not fully here.

Present.
Awake.
Alive.

So yeah, I’m sleeping with a machine now.

And honestly?

I’m pretty excited about it.