How a tennis ball saved my marriage

Booze is another prime culprit.

Eckert recalls an experiment he conducted at the Adelaide Institute for Sleep Health in which he measured the effect of multiple vodka shots on subjects’ airways. “We found alcohol really blocks your nose, so you generate more suction pressure and are more likely to vibrate those structures downstream and snore.�

Unfortunately, the repercussions of snoring aren’t confined to getting banished to the living-room sofa. This year, Eckert was involved in a study with Flinders University that showed regular snoring was linked with high blood pressure, while sleep apnoea sufferers face a greater risk of heart conditions, stroke and cognitive decline.

A key fact comes to light. I only snore in one position – when I’m lying flat on my back.

“Snoring is a marker that you’re not getting the restorative sleep you need for optimal health,� he warns.

Getting on the front foot, I discover a study that suggests playing the didgeridoo or a wind instrument can stop you snoring. Apparently, this is because the action can improve your “oropharyngeal muscle tone�, which reduces airway collapsibility during sleep.

Given I’m tone-deaf, I’m sceptical whether learning the bassoon will lift my wife’s spirits. Instead, I find a recommended bunch of mouth and throat exercises from the Sleep Foundation that include tongue push-ups and jaw stretches. They’re meant to strengthen the airway and tongue muscles to make snoring less frequent, but they fail to work for me.

Frankly, I’m at a bit of a loss. The standard causes don’t seem especially pertinent to my situation – I’m not overweight and, while I do probably drink too much, I snore with equally startling ferocity on my alcohol-free days.

Eckert’s advice is to see my GP, who can inspect my throat and tonsils to rule out certain illnesses and then potentially refer me to see a sleep specialist. His other suggestion is to ascertain the extent of my problem by using an under-bed sensor like the Withings Sleep Analyser. If I do suffer from sleep apnoea, I’ll require some form of more specialised treatment ranging from mouthguard splints that adjust the position of the lower jaw and tongue, to a CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure) machine that uses mild air pressure to keep my airways open during sleep.

But as Eckert continues to quiz me about the underlying cause of my probable divorce, a key fact comes to light. I only snore in one position – when I’m lying flat on my back. Apparently, this is due to the effect of gravity that prompts my tongue and soft palate to fall back into my throat. He reckons I can train myself to sleep on my side with the help of a wearable device like ResMed’s NightShift Sleep Repositioner, which vibrates if you roll onto your back.

“These little gizmos are not cheap,� he says. “But they work.�

I duly google the NightShift. It costs just under $500 – a reasonable price, I figure, for a happier wife. Before I buy it though, I decide to try a more primitive approach, described by Eckert as the “original concept� for these positional therapy devices. That night, I take a tennis ball and position it inside the T-shirt I’ll sleep in, fastening it to the back by placing an elastic band around the ball on the outside. When my alarm sounds in the morning, my wife tells me I barely snored.

Over the following days, I refine the technique by sticking the ball into a tighter T-shirt that keeps it more snugly in place. It’s far too uncomfortable to sleep on my back and the snoring miraculously stops. My wife is delighted with this DIY cure and so am I. Game, set and match!