It was 2006, and I woke up to three pillows hitting my face.
My daughters—all three of them—had been in the same hotel room with me the night before, as the family was moving in our eldest for her freshman year of college.
They looked exhausted. Furious, actually.
“Dad! You sounded like a freight train last night!”
I laughed it off. Made a sarcastic joke about the train tracks outside.
But the comment stuck with me. So I went to my doctor, got a home sleep study, and waited for the results.
Six weeks later: “You have mild sleep apnea, Mark. But you’re fine. No treatment needed.”
I walked out of that appointment relieved. If I’d known then what I know now, I would have demanded treatment on the spot.
Because here’s what “mild” sleep apnea actually means:
Your brain is being jolted awake—pulled out of deep sleep—multiple times every hour, every single night.
And the crazy part is—you will wake up thinking you slept through the night!
And when your brain can’t complete deep sleep, it can’t do its most important job: taking out the trash.
The Person You’d Never Suspect
A few months after my diagnosis, my wife Roseann and I were trying to figure out who had actually been snoring that night in the hotel.
It couldn’t have been her. Roseann is one of the healthiest people I know. She’s up at 5:30 a.m. for Pilates. She’s petite. She doesn’t have a sweet tooth. She lifts weights and meditates daily.
But she also had:
– Bouts of depression that baffled us
– A heart condition
– Rising blood pressure and cholesterol (for no apparent reason)
– Early menopause
– Constant exhaustion, despite “getting 8 hours”
– Weekend naps she couldn’t skip
– Recurrent sinus infections
When her sleep study came back, I felt sick.
34.5 breathing interruptions per hour, the report said!
Every single night, for years—maybe decades—her brain had been panicking, pulling her out of deep sleep to restart her breathing. She’d wake up with no memory of it, but her body kept the score.
Your Brain Has One Job During Deep Sleep
Here’s what most people don’t know: your brain produces waste.
It uses 20% of your body’s total energy, which means it creates a LOT of metabolic byproducts. One of them is called amyloid-beta.
You know what we call diseases where amyloid-beta piles up in the brain?
“Dirty brain” diseases. Like Alzheimer’s.
Deep sleep is when your brain clears this waste. It’s like taking out the trash every night. But when breathing interruptions keep bouncing you out of deep sleep, the trash piles up.
Both of my parents died of dementia-related illnesses.
My father—a celebrated Harvard radiologist, competitive downhill skier, and one of the fittest men I’ve ever known—died at 69 from dementia and ALS.
Looking back now, I can see all the signs of sleep-disordered breathing:
– He was a severe teeth grinder
– He had a narrow airway (I was his dentist)
– He needed naps despite being “high energy”
– He had a receding chin and crowded teeth
If someone had caught it early and helped him breathe better at night, I believe he could have lived decades longer.
And that’s the thing that keeps me up at night—not my own sleep apnea anymore, but knowing how many people are walking around right now with this same ticking time bomb.
The Healthiest People Are Often the Sickest Sleepers
Here’s the cruelest irony: the healthier you look, the less likely your doctor is to suspect sleep-disordered breathing.
You’re young. You’re fit. You don’t “look like” someone with sleep apnea.
So you get sent home with “you’re fine.”
Meanwhile:
– Your blood pressure creeps up
– You gain weight you can’t explain
– You lose patience with your kids or your partner
– You don’t feel refreshed when the alarm goes off
– Your memory isn’t what it used to be
– You blame it on “getting older” or “being busy”
After I finally treated my own sleep breathing, I realized I’d been living my whole life with less patience, less emotional capacity, and more brain fog than I needed to.
I thought that’s just how life was.
It’s not.
This Is Bigger Than Snoring
When I talk about sleep-disordered breathing, I’m not just talking about sleep apnea.
I’m talking about the entire spectrum—from mild breathing difficulties to full airway collapse. Most people are somewhere in the middle, suffering in ways we have normalized.
The stats that keep me up at night:
– 42 million Americans have this. 90% are undiagnosed.
– People with untreated sleep disorders have 20% shorter life expectancy
– 80-90% of people with diabetes have sleep apnea
– 50-95% of stroke survivors have it
– Up to 15-fold increase in car accidents for people with moderate-severe sleep apnea
And here’s the thing: snoring is never cute. It’s never normal. It’s always a red flag.
What You Can Do Right Now
If you snore—or your partner does—here’s what I want you to do:
1. Take this seriously.
Stop laughing it off. Stop saying “I’ve always been a snorer.” Your brain is trying to tell you something.
2. Look for other signs:
– Grinding your teeth (your body’s instinct to push your jaw forward and open your airway)
– Waking up with a dry mouth or headache
– Needing to pee multiple times at night (here’s what’s really happening: when you stop breathing, your heart releases a hormone that tells your kidneys to dump water—your body thinks it’s fluid-overloaded when it’s not)
– Falling asleep the second your head hits the pillow (that’s sleep deprivation, not “being a good sleeper”)
– My book is an excellent guide for where to begin.
3. Get tested.
Not “when you have time.” Now. Find a sleep dentist through AADSM or use my Functional Dentist Directory. These are providers trained to spot the signs of sleep-disordered breathing early—when it’s easiest to treat.
4. Start supporting your sleep tonight.
For decades, I used to put every single one of my sleep patients on magnesium. Why? Because magnesium supports deep sleep, helps your muscles relax, and most people are deficient.
This is the magnesium I take every night. If you’re interested in optimizing your sleep, I highly recommend looking into a high quality magnesium supplement 1-2 hours before bed.
After Treatment: What My Wife Told Me
After Roseann got her mandibular advancement device (a mouthguard-style appliance that keeps her airway open), her breathing interruptions went from 34.5 per hour to zero.
She told me: “I didn’t realize my life didn’t have to be so hard.”
She thought the brain fog, the exhaustion, the irritability—she thought that was just life. It wasn’t.
Her blood pressure normalized. Her cholesterol improved. She stopped needing naps. We started having date nights again because she could stay awake through movies.
Most importantly: she’s never felt sharper, happier, or more alive.
The Question I Want You to Ask Yourself
When was the last time you woke up feeling truly rested?
Not “I got 8 hours so I should be fine.”
I mean: truly refreshed when you wake up.
If you can’t remember, you’re not alone. Most of us have normalized exhaustion.
But here’s what I’ve learned after treating thousands of patients and living through my own sleep transformation:
You don’t have to live this way.
If you know someone who snores or grinds their teeth or has TMJ, please forward this to them. It could change their life.
Mark
P.S. By the way—sleep disordered breathing doesn’t just make you tired—it kills your ability to self-advocate. You stay in denial because your brain literally doesn’t have the resources to see clearly. The worse your sleep gets, the less capable you are of recognizing the problem and doing something about it.
My experience as an airway dentist has made me wonder if loss of self-control, a short temper with your kids, late-night snacking, and poor judgment calls could be symptoms of sleep-disordered breathing, and not character flaws or “laziness.”
My father didn’t get a second chance. My wife almost didn’t. But you do.
So, don’t wait for “mild” to become “severe.”