A month of so ago, I went to see a sleep doctor for my snoring. I got a take-home breathing test that gave me the worst night’s sleep in recent memory. A few days later, I got a somber diagnosis: “You are a walking zombie.” Apparently, I hold my breath for ten seconds or more every minute and a half while sleeping. Normal is supposed to be every 4 to 10 minutes. But by this standard, more than half of all middle-aged men are sub-normal (how is this possible?). As a result of my breath-holding, the wrinkled, unsmiling DO claimed I’m brain-dead now and will soon be physically dead unless I change my ways. Without spending 3 minutes with me, the sleep expert told me that I need to lose weight, and that I need a C-Pap (continuous positive airway pressure) device as soon as possible. It’s supposed to help me lose that weight and get back the energy. With that he was gone. The office staff gave me the rest of the dope: I was prescribed  a “ResMed” brand C-Pap, supplied by a distributor right across the hall from the doctor (how convenient).

I picked up the C-Pap three months later. Though I was diagnosed as needing one “as soon as possible,” no one would release the device until they were sure it was covered by my insurance company. The device when I got it, was something of a horror. The first version I tried fit over the whole face and forces air into my mouth and nose simultaneously, supposedly making it easier to inhale, but harder to exhale. I found it more than a bit uncomfortable. The next version was nose only and marginally more comfortable. I found there was a major air-flow restriction when I breath in and a similar pressure penalty when I breathed out. And it’s loud. And, if you open your mouth, there is a wind blowing through. As for what happens if the pump fails or the poor goes out, I notice that there are the tiniest of air-holes to prevent me from suffocating, barely. A far better design would have given me a 0-psi flapper valve for breathing in, and a 1/10 psi flapper for breathing out. That would also reduce the pressure restriction I was feeling every time I took a deep breath. One of my first blog essays was about engineering design aesthetics; you want your designs to improve things under normal conditions and fail safe, not like here. Using this device while awake was anything but pleasant, and I found I still hold my breath, even while awake, about every 5 minutes.

Since I have a lab, and the ability to test these things, I checked the pressure of the delivered air, and found it was 3 cm of water, about 1/20 psi. The prescription was for 5 cm or water (1/14 psi). The machine registers this, but it is wrong. I used a very simple water manometer, a column of water, similar to the one I used to check the pressure drop in furnace air filters. Is 1/20 psi enough?How did he decide on 1/14 psi by the way? I’ve no idea. !/14 psi is about 1/200 atm. Is this enough to do anything? While the C-Pap should get me to breathe more, I guess, about half of all users stop after a few tries, and my guess is that they find it as uncomfortable as I have. There is no research evidence that treatment with it reduces stroke or heart attack, or extends life, or helps with weight loss. The assumption is that, if you force middle-aged men to hold their breath less, they will be healthier, but I’ve no clear logic or evidence to back the assumption. At best, anything you gain on the ease of breathing in, you lose on the difficulty of breathing out. The majority of middle-aged men are prescribed a C-Pap, if they go for a sleep study, and it’s virtually 100% for overweight men with an apple-shaped body.

I’d have asked my doctor about alternatives or for a second opinion but he was out the door too fast. Besides, I was afraid I’d get the same answer that Rodney Dangerfield got: “You want a second opinion? OK. You’re ugly, too.” Mr. Dangerfield was not a skinny comic, by the way, but he was funny, and I assume he’d have been prescribed a C-Pap (maybe he was). He died at 82, considerably older than Jim Fixx, “the running doctor,” Adelle Davis, the “eat right for health” doctor, Euell Gibbons “in search of the wild asparagus,” or Ethan Pritkin, the diet doctor. God seems to prefer fat comedians to diet experts; I expect that most-everyone does.

Benjamin Franklin and his apple-shaped body; I don’t think of him as a zombie.

What really got my goat, besides my dislike of the C-Pap, is that I object to being called a walking zombie. True, I’m not as energetic as I used to be, but I manage to run a company, and to write research papers, and I get patents (this one was approved just today). And I write these blogs — I trust that any of you who’ve read this far find them amusing. Pretty good for a zombie — and I ran for water commissioner. People who use the C-Pap self-report that they have more energy, but self-reporting is poor evidence. A significant fraction of those people who start with the C-Pap, stop, and those people, presumably were not happy. Besides, a review of the internet suggests that a similarly large fraction of those who buy a “MyPillow.com” claim they have more energy. And I’ve seen the same claims from people who take a daily run, or who pray, or smoke medical marijuana (available for sleep apnea, but not from this fellow), or Mirtazapine (study results here), or  for electro-shock therapy, a device called “Inspire.” With so many different products providing the same self-reported results, I wonder if there isn’t something more fundamental going on. I’d wish the doc had spent a minute or two to speak to this, or to the alternatives.

As for weight loss, statistical analysis of lifespan suggests that there is a health advantage to being medium weight: not obese, but not skinny. I present some of this evidence here, along with evidence that extra weight helps ward off Alzheimer’s. For all I know this protection is caused by holding your breath every few minutes. It helps to do light exercise, but not necessary for mental health. In terms of mental health, the evidence suggests that weight loss is worse than nothing.

Jared Gray, author of the Alien movies, was diagnosed with apnea, so he designed his own sleep-mask.

Benjamin Franklin was over-weight and apple-shaped, and no zombie, The same is true of John Adams, Otto Von Bismarck, and Alfred Hitchcock. All lived long, productive lives. Hitchcock was sort of morbid, it will be admitted, but I would not want him otherwise. Ed McMahon, Johnny Carson’s side-kick, apologized to America for being overweight and smoking, bu the outlived Johnny Carson by nine years, dying at 89. Henry Kissinger is still alive and writing at 95. He was always fatter than any of the people he served. He almost certainly had sleep apnea, back in the day, and still has more on the ball, in my opinion, than most of the talking-head on TV. The claim that overweight, middle-aged men are all zombies without a breath assisting machine doesn’t make no sense to me. But then, I’m not a sleep doctor. (Do sleep doctors get commissions? Why did he choose, this supplier or this brand device? With so little care about patients, I wonder who runs the doctor’s office.)

I looked up my doctor on this list provided by the American Board of Sleep Medicine. I found my doctor was not certified in sleep medicine. I suppose certified doctors would prescribe something similar  but was disappointed that you don’t need sleep certification to operate as a sleep specialist. In terms of masks, I figure, if you’ve got to wear something, you might as well wear something cool. Author Jared Gray, shown above (not the author of the Alien) was diagnosed with Apnea 6 months ago and made his own C-Pap mask to make it look like the alien was attacking him. Very cool for an ex-zombie, but I’m waiting to see a burst of creative energy.

What do we zombies want? Brains.

When do we want them? Brains.

What do vegetarian zombies want? Grains.

Robert Buxbaum, March 15, 2019. In case real zombies should attack, here’s what to do.  An odd legal/insurance issue: in order to get the device, I had to sign that, if I didn’t use it for 20 days in the first month of 4 hours per night, and thus if the insurance did not pay, I would be stuck with the full fee. I signed. This might cost me $1000 though normally in US law, companies can only charge a reasonable restock fee, but it can’t be unreasonable, like the full  price. I also had to sign that I would go back to the same, quick-take doctor, but again there has to be limits. We’ll see how the machine pans out, but one difference I see already: unlike my pillow.com, there is no money back guarantee with the C-Pap treatment.