A gift before bedtime

I no longer fear falling asleep. I now feel, with about 95% certainty, that I won't wake around 4 a.m. and be unable to breathe. This inability to breathe was not a feeling, though - it was a reality. Several times since my hospital visit, I thought I was off there again. When you can't breathe you believe you are about to die. That you will get worse and you will choke to death, pass out or not even have that luxury. But that you will choke and that you will soon die. It isn't a panic attack, and yes I've read up on that. This did not only happen at night, but that's usually when it manifested itself. This was in keeping with the usual tales of horror I uncovered across the net during my research into my own personal ailment. The hospital didn't know why it happened and my doctor didn't know either. And nobody else's doctor or hospital can come up with a reason for it, either.
The reason for that is simple: they only know what they've been taught, and they don't dare come up with an alternative treatment to drugs n stuff, otherwise they'll lose their jobs.
The number one reason for entry to emergency care is being unable to breathe properly. The greatest health problem, in the western world at least, is diabetes. The most money spent on drugs in the NHS is for diabetes (respiratory).
Go figure, or, viewed another way: Pharmacy is big business and I was yet another customer on the diabetes/respiratory pay cheque.
I began to look for an answer on the internet. To cut a long and painful story short, I read between the lines and came up with a short list of probable causes, any one of which, or combinations of which, could have been the answer. At the moment, I've settled on a certain diet and sleep regime that seems to work well for me. And it has been that simple. Not drugs, not inhalers - life itself needed to change. Yes, I'll keep taking the drugs as prescribed, but if it becomes apparent that they are the problem, or part of the problem, I will stop.
As things stand, the shadow over me is lifting and the weight of my non-life expectancy with it. As bad as it got, the worst of it for me was that I couldn't write. Oh, I tried to write, but I was dreadful. However good or bad I actually am, I was a pretty poor excuse for a writer in the past 6 months or so.
I've no idea if I'm over the hump in the road. I may not ever get past this first book. But I'm still around... life isn't so bad, at least right now :-)