Pushing It to 11 with a Better Night’s Sleep

According to the results of my sleep study, I have something called sleep apnea. I stop breathing for a few seconds or a little over a minute and then snore ferociously as the breathing kicks back in. I’m told mine is moderate to severe.

Scary, you say? Not really.

Mood music:

I know a few people with this condition, including my father. It afflicts people from all walks of life: the fat, the thin, the short, the tall, the young and the old. In my case, the root cause is a nose and sinus cavity full of bad plumbing. My snout is almost always clogged, and if I’m trying to breath through the nose everything stops until the mouth breathing takes over.

The doctor showed me a computer screen full of squiggly lines that measured brainwave activity, blood oxygen levels, REM vs. light sleep, etc. Throughout the night the study was done, the squiggly lines flattened out. Most of the time it was for 8–15 seconds. In a few cases, it lasted more than a minute. Wherever the breathing flatlined, another column of lines showed my blood oxygen levels dipping below the preferred level.

It explains a lot.

That it instigates my snoring is obvious. But I’ve always had a tendency to get sleepy in the middle of the day, and I admit to occasionally falling asleep while staring at my laptop. It also explains why I’m usually out cold within minutes of lying down and opening whatever book I’m reading. I’m never adequately rested, so my body sneaks in whatever rest it can throughout the day.

By extension, it’s almost definitely making any depression I get along the way worse than it would otherwise be. I know I had a shitty night’s sleep Saturday, and I spent much of yesterday cranky as a result.

I’ve had two surgeries in recent years to deal with the snoring. One was to correct a deviated septum (I’m convinced the procedure only made it worse). The other was to snip off the uvula. Both times they also installed pillar implants in the soft palate to prop things up. Being overweight is often cited as a root cause, and there’s surely some of that in my case. But I’ve also lost a ton of weight over time, especially since kicking flour and sugar.

The solution to all this?

I’m going to endeavor to drop another 10 or 15 pounds because that can’t hurt. But the bigger solution is that I’m getting a machine to help keep the airways open at night. The continuous positive airway pressure (CPAP) machine uses mild air pressure to keep an airway open. The devices are smaller than they used to be. Mine will be about the size of a tissue box.

I’m excited to see what a full night of uninterrupted sleep is like. Despite the breathing trouble, I’ve managed to function at a vigorous level. With better sleep, I’m hoping to push it to 11.

Frustrated CPAP Patient

A Night in the Sleep Lab

I’m a chronic snorer. Hardly a week goes by where I’m not banished to the living room couch at least once for making a racket. My oldest son gleefully tells his buddies that I sound like a “busted chainsaw” at night. Erin has also observed that I sometimes stop breathing for short spurts.

It’s an old problem, and two surgeries to the nose and throat failed to fix it. A hefty weight loss didn’t help much, either.

So last week, I went for a sleep study.

Mood music:

I expected to spend the night in one of your average hospital beds in an average hospital room. Instead, I walked in to discover something not unlike the business-class hotels I frequent. A big flat-screen TV was mounted on the wall, the bed was big and comfortable and the color scheme of the room relaxing, unlike the white, sterile hospital environment I expected.

sleep study

The tech kept an eye on me all night through the camera above the TV.

The technician, John, came in and had me sit in a chair, while he spent the next hour hooking me up with a bunch of electrodes. As he worked, the two of us howled with laughter at the over-the-top drama of The Discovery Channel‘s Shark Week, which played on the TV overhead.

Sleep study 2

The wires that protruded from my head, chest and arms as I slept

Then it was time to retire. I crawled into bed gingerly, worried that I’d knock out some of the wires John had painstakingly attached. I brought the book Black Mass — a must-read about James “Whitey” Bulger’s decades-long reign of terror in Boston — and I got through three pages before I passed out. That’s not unusual. At home, I usually fall asleep after just a few pages of whatever book I’m reading.

Sleep study 3

This bed was damn comfortable.

I only remember John coming into the room once overnight, to tighten an electrode on the chest that had come loose.

He woke me up at 6 a.m. I asked him if I did anything interesting overnight. Did the busted chainsaw make an appearance? “You did snore a bit,” he said, smiling. Did I talk in my sleep, stop breathing or make any bizarre movements? Nope. In fact, he said, I failed to make the top 10 of interesting case studies.

Truth be told, that bummed me out a little bit. First, because that raises the possibility that the real sleep problems I’m having decided not to make an appearance that night. Second, because I don’t like to bore people.

Thursday I’ll get the results of the sleep study. If it proves inconclusive, I may be sent back for another sleep test.

Given the first experience, that wouldn’t bother me at all.