The Nightmarish Symphony of Snoring
Recently, I found myself subjected to what can only be described as the most grotesque noise imaginable. It was a cacophony of snorts, groans, chokes, and grunts, reminiscent of a pig reliving a traumatic experience or a Tasmanian devil vehemently protesting while devouring a toffee. Unfortunately, this horrifying symphony originated from none other than me.
During a flight, I succumbed to the effects of a cold and snored so thunderously that I jolted myself awake. This rude awakening was quite disconcerting. My wife has frequently pointed out the appalling volume and repugnance of my snores over the years, but I had always dismissed her claims as exaggerated. I assumed that every sound seems amplified in the stillness of night, and my snores were likely akin to hers: bothersome, capable of echoing from downstairs, and vaguely foghorn-like, but not abnormal.
However, a mere ten minutes after settling back into sleep, the appalling sound of a dying swan reverberated through the cabin once more. At that moment, I resolved to take action. Snoring occurs when the muscles in the soft palate (the roof of your mouth), throat, and tongue relax. This relaxation can partially obstruct your airways, causing air to rush through with greater force, leading to vibrations of the surrounding tissues and prompting everyone nearby to think you’re a nuisance.
If snoring disrupts your sleep, or if you wake up gasping for breath, with a sore throat, chest pain, or headaches, it might indicate a more serious condition such as obstructive sleep apnea, warranting a visit to the doctor. Thankfully, I don’t suffer from that; I merely snore like a disheveled hog.
Several factors can exacerbate snoring, including being overweight or consuming excessive alcohol. In the former case, there’s simply more tissue, while in the latter, the muscles are more relaxed. However, there are adjustments you can make to your sleeping habits to help mitigate the obnoxious honking sounds you produce at night.
Exploring Solutions
This can range from the simple act of sleeping on your side instead of your back to exploring various anti-snoring devices. These devices aim to alleviate pressure in your airways, either by preventing your muscles from relaxing too much, widening your nasal passages to reduce mouth breathing, or eliminating mouth breathing entirely.
It seemed my phone was eavesdropping on my in-flight symphony, for in the weeks following that trip, I was bombarded with ads on Instagram for anti-snoring mouthguards. These advertisements featured young men being lovingly gazed at by their beautiful girlfriends as they inserted bulky gumshields and pretended to enjoy a blissful sleep. This appeared to be the ideal solution for me, especially since these mouthguards also prevent teeth grinding, another nighttime habit I’ve recently discovered I possess.
I ordered one, trimmed it, boiled it, shaped it to my teeth, and gave it a try. However, while many people found success with these devices, I ended up retching violently every time I attempted to use it. After much contemplation, I concluded that while snoring may be annoying, vomiting all over my partner would be far worse. Thus, my quest continued.
Next on my list was the device that involved the least hassle: an anti-snoring pillow. This pillow has a foam core designed to discourage back sleeping and gently encourage a side-sleeping position. Mine, acquired from Silentnight, came with numerous disclaimers stating it might not help with anything, but I certainly slept better on it than on the flattened, drool-stained monstrosity it replaced. Yet, my nights remained far from silent.
Then came nasal dilators, which, aside from making for a fantastic band name, work by stretching your nostrils wide from the inside—essentially giving you “big-ass gorilla nostrils” for easier nighttime breathing. Unfortunately, I found myself waking up each night and removing it, returning to my usual snoring routine by morning. My reasonably sized nose felt like it was being prodded by someone’s big toe, which was an odd sensation to get used to.
Nasal strips operate similarly but from the outside. You stick a stretchy, plaster-like strip on the exterior of your nose, which pulls your nostrils wider. They’re amusing to apply, and if you avoid mirrors, you can convince yourself you look like a cool American football player (I opted for black ones for this very reason). Wearing these strips significantly reduced my snoring; I was still occasionally elbowed awake, but far less often than before. They were comfortable enough that I’d forget I was wearing them by morning, leaving me bewildered as to why my glasses kept slipping down my face.
Next, I decided to try a snoring mask, hoping it would feel somewhat heroic, akin to wearing a helmet like a world-class athlete. Instead, it felt more like donning a pair of knickers on my head. The purpose of the mask is to keep your jaw in place, preventing it from drooping and obstructing your airway. Although I experienced no complaints while wearing it at night, I still produced a few new snorts and snarls—perhaps they were existential groans emanating from the depths of my soul. Unfortunately, Amazon doesn’t sell products for that.
The final solution I attempted was the most extreme: snoring tape. This tape seals your mouth shut, preventing snoring through sheer force. It felt akin to being kidnapped, and there was something both uncomfortable and slightly unsavory about it. Once affixed to my face, I felt a mix of anxiety about potential suffocation and a strange sense of being misinterpreted in the manner of a sordid anti-snoring incident. Surprisingly, it worked well—no snoring was to be heard throughout the night. However, I couldn’t speak, and when I awoke thirsty, a drink of water was out of the question. Moreover, despite the product’s claims of being beard-friendly, it yanked out a few hairs from my face, making me hesitant to use it regularly.
Moving forward, I intend to combine the mask, strips, and pillow in hopes of reducing my nocturnal symphony. While I might not achieve a completely snore-free existence, I aim to transform the truly grotesque barnyard noises that filled the airplane into a rare occurrence. I just hope I don’t have to answer the door unexpectedly, as the mask and strip combo might horrify the milkman. I’ve already caused enough sleepless nights as it is.
