I knew that I snored. Our teenagers at the other end of the house told me so, every morning. When my wife moved into the spare room complaining of no sleep and threatening to move in there permanently, I knew I had a problem. What I didn’t appreciate was that it was more than that. I was asleep, or at least I thought I was asleep, but I wasn’t really. I was awake for almost half the night, and I didn’t even know it. My wife knew. It terrified her every night as I would stop breathing, then gasp myself awake and the breathing would start again. I slept on, unaware.

After diagnosis of OSA and on taking a CPAP [machine] home for the first night, I had a real dilemma. I didn’t want to terrify our four-year-old daughter with the mask. Her mum was away that night, so we made a deal.

“I have to wear something every night,” I told her; “it’s very important for Daddy to wear it, but I don’t want you to laugh when you see me wearing it, OK?”
“What is it, Daddy?”
“It’s a mask, sweetie, with a long hose attached which runs down to this machine, which we must always leave running when Daddy is asleep so Daddy can breathe properly and not snore.”

I put the mask on. She giggled, from behind her hand, and we have never had an issue since. In fact, if her dolly gets sick, she puts a pretend mask on her until she feels better.

The next morning I jumped out of bed. Literally. I felt clogged up and a bit dry. I gave my nose a good blow and clear out, breathed in deeply, and felt great. Like I had just had a great night’s sleep. My wife moved back into our bedroom the next night and the teenagers had to find other things to complain about.

Now, on mornings when there’s something important happening, which can be just about anything for an under-five year old, she’ll hover around my side of the bed until she gets a wink or a nod from me, then she’ll reach down and push the CPAP off-button knowing that now Daddy will have to get up and we can go and do what it is that is so important.

And thanks to CPAP, I’ll be alive to continue to do the important things for a lot longer.

Jonathan Hogan
Palmerston North
New Zealand