Breathe Again
Twenty-Three Years Later
Friday morning I picked up a CPAP machine from the VA Hospital in Milwaukee.
It took about 30 minutes from the time I walked through the door until I walked back out with the machine in my hands.
Thirty minutes to begin solving something that has been affecting my life for 23 years.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
The Beginning
After returning from my deployment to Prince Sultan Air Base in Saudi Arabia, things slowly began to change.
My nose was constantly congested. I started snoring. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I had returned home, transitioned to civilian life, and assumed it was just one more change that came with getting older.
Then, around 2003, I developed constant drainage in the back of my throat. Allergy testing came back negative. As the years went on, the snoring became louder, the congestion worsened, and I started waking up with headaches.
Eventually those headaches became migraines that blurred my vision for hours at a time.
Doctors ordered CT scans. Everything looked normal. I was prescribed nasal sprays and over-the-counter allergy medications, but nothing really helped.
The headaches continued.
The snoring continued.
The exhaustion became normal.
Until I stopped questioning whether life was supposed to feel this way.
Learning to Speak Up
Looking back, I also have to take some responsibility.
I’ve never been very good at communicating in doctors’ offices. I’d answer the questions I was asked, but I rarely painted the full picture of what I was experiencing. After living with these symptoms for so many years, I had simply accepted them as part of life.
Over the past year, I’ve made a conscious effort to change that. I’ve learned to be more honest, more detailed, and to stop minimizing what I’m feeling.
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that doctors can’t treat what they don’t know, and they can’t connect dots they never see.
That change made a bigger difference than I expected.
The Missing Pieces
In 2024, a fellow Air Force veteran encouraged me to file for VA disability.
Sleep apnea and rhinitis weren’t even on my radar.
Ironically, during one of my VA examinations, the doctor who denied one of my claims documented evidence of both conditions. He noted that I likely had rhinitis related to toxic exposure during my deployment. He also documented that I had sleep apnea.
I was so focused on the denial that I barely read the rest of the report.
It sat in a folder on my computer for nearly a year.
Buried in those pages was evidence that would change everything.
I eventually hired an attorney to help with my appeals, and finally read the report more carefully.
That’s when everything clicked.
The evidence I needed had been sitting in front of me the entire time.
My attorney filed a claim for rhinitis based on that report, and within a couple of months it became service connected.
Finally Being Heard
My primary care doctor referred me to a private sleep specialist who had previously worked at the VA. He understood both sleep medicine and the VA system.
The sleep study confirmed what I had suspected for years.
I had moderate-to-severe obstructive sleep apnea.
When I contacted the VA about treatment, the process required referrals and patience.
Honestly, I probably would have kept waiting if it weren’t for my wife.
She picked up the phone, called someone she trusted, and helped move everything forward. Sometimes all it takes is one person who refuses to accept, “You’ll just have to wait.”
Soon my records were transferred, referrals were in place, and the VA scheduled my appointment.
At first, the earliest opening was September.
I accepted it. After waiting more than two decades, another few months didn’t seem like much.
Then, on June 24, my phone rang.
The VA explained that my September appointment was only to meet with the sleep doctor.
“I’m actually calling to schedule your CPAP appointment,” she said.
“What’s the earliest appointment available?” I asked.
“Friday at 8 a.m.”
Two days away.
I took it.
Friday, June 26, 2026
This morning, I walked into the Milwaukee VA Hospital.
Thirty minutes later, I walked out carrying a CPAP machine.
After 23 years of interrupted sleep.
After years of snoring.
After countless mornings waking up exhausted.
After migraines that stole hours from my life.
I finally had the treatment I’d needed for more than two decades.
My sleep study showed I stopped breathing about 28 times every hour. My service-connected rhinitis causes my nasal passages to close when I lie down, making everything even worse.
Tonight, for the first time in decades, I’ll go to bed knowing I have a treatment that can help me breathe.
That’s a pretty incredible feeling.
Why This Matters
This isn’t just a story about finally getting a CPAP machine.
It’s a story about persistence.
It’s about learning to advocate for yourself.
It’s about reading every report.
It’s about asking one more question.
It’s about the difference one caring doctor, one determined nurse, one helpful VA employee, one good attorney, and one supportive spouse can make.
The system failed me in some ways. Evidence existed but wasn’t acted on. Answers sat buried in paperwork while I continued living with symptoms I had accepted as normal.
But eventually, the system did work.
People cared.
People listened.
People connected the dots.
That’s why I’m speaking out against proposals in Congress that would reduce disability compensation for future veterans with service-connected sleep apnea and tinnitus.
I know firsthand how difficult it can be to receive the right diagnosis. I know what it’s like for evidence to sit unnoticed in a report. And I know how life-changing proper treatment can be once someone finally helps connect the dots.
Veterans shouldn’t have to spend decades searching for answers.
And they shouldn’t lose benefits once those answers are finally found.
Moving Forward
I’m grateful for everyone who helped me get here—my doctors, my attorney, the VA staff, the sleep specialist, and especially my wife, who refused to let the process stall. Lord knows I’ve spent years just dealing with things and moving on.
But I’m also grateful for the lesson this journey taught me.
I’ve learned that being your own advocate matters. Speak up. Tell the whole story. Don’t minimize your symptoms because you’ve learned to live with them. What feels “normal” to you may be the clue your doctor has been missing.
If you’re a veteran still searching for answers, don’t give up.
Read every report.
Ask questions.
Keep pushing.
Sometimes the answer has been sitting in a folder all along.
Sometimes it’s only one phone call away.
The CPAP isn’t something you get used to overnight. I’m still adjusting, and I’m sure there will be frustrating nights ahead.
But after 23 years of waking up exhausted, every night I wear it is a step toward better health.
Sometimes healing doesn’t begin with a dramatic breakthrough.
Sometimes it begins with finally taking the first full breath you’ve been waiting decades to breathe.
If this story sounds familiar, talk to your doctor. And if you’re a veteran, don’t assume years of fatigue, headaches, or snoring are simply something you have to live with.
Glad you’re making progress. We each need to advocate for ourselves, in order to make that progress. Leaving until tomorrow what is essential to our health today, is not an alternative.
Thanks. Honestly the hardest part was learning to actually say what I was feeling instead of just pushing through it. Glad it’s finally moving — and hoping it helps other vets who are in the same spot I was in for two decades.