After being officially diagnosed with sleep apnea, it was time for the CPAP machine to arrive. Let’s just say I felt like a cross between a giddy kid on Christmas Eve and as reluctant as Darth Vader probably would’ve been in the bedroom. Little by little, I’m feeling better, thanks to the supportive gear for my lungs.

Because it’s a sleep study, and not, say a cat scan, I didn’t expect my doctor to get all solemn, take a deep breath, and ask me to “sit down” before delivering the news.

In recent months, my fiancée noticed long pauses between breaths while I’m asleep, followed by gasping for air. Not good. If it’s like everything else in my life, this major CPAP milestone should make for a good story. Plus, my readers really seem to enjoy it when I suffer.

This is a weird time in my life waiting for a heart transplant while trying to maintain a normal functioning life. However, these three basic things have helped me tremendously in my everyday routine.

With my old ways of thinking, I kicked ass and got better. But I’ve figured out along the way that it’s like nitrous: it’s great for a quick burst, but powerlifting isn’t a quarter mile.