Oxygen

So the home health care company delivered this today:

But I will not be dragging it behind me into the local casino, shuffling toward the slots, cigarette dangling from my lip, for the following reasons: I don't smoke, I don't go to the local casino, and most on point, I plan to never be seen with this, life sustaining though oxygen is. (Also, the home health care guy did say something about oxygen and open flames). 

Actually I hope never to use this. It's an emergency back-up to a less industrial looking model that is now parked by the bed. The bedside model, also delivered today, relies on electricity to compress oxygen from the air.  Since the power can go out at inopportune times, I am glad to have this scuba tank on hand to use if necessary (and by on hand, I mean in a dark and distant corner of the basement where no one will have to look at it.) With luck, I'll never crack the seal.

The bedside model is built like a roller suitcase, but I also don't intend to drag it around behind me, although I suppose that time may come. Two years ago I was backpacking, and last summer we took long hikes in Yellowstone, but lately, as tumors in my lungs have squeezed out oxygen capacity, taking the dog for a walk around the block has felt a bit like mountain climbing. 

My main problem has been sleep, however -- I am hoping that an oxygen boost overnight will make the nights a little more restful. I am likewise hoping that Sally will not be unnerved by a Darth Vader breathing device in the bedroom or oxygen tubes stuck in my nose. Fortunately, after 26 years of marriage, she's seen worse.