THE SNOREE'S LAMENT

You know that old saying – ‘Men! Can’t live with them – can’t live without them!’ Well, what’s your position if you live with a snorer?
Hands up all who sleep beside a person who snores? Those of you men who put your hand up, go and stand in the corner and look shame faced – we all know that ladies do not snore!
Oh, the agonies of sleeping with a snorer! I push him, I turn him, I knee him in the leg – then he wakes up next morning and says with some puzzlement, ‘My thigh is so sore, I don’t know what I’ve done to it!’
And the remedies people suggest! All I can say is get real! ‘Turn snorer over’ – okay, but he snores again as soon as he settles; ‘Yell loudly “You’re snoring!” ’ – okay, but he only mutters and starts up again; do the aforesaid knee-ing (this is my remedy; not about to be patented, as it doesn’t work!) – he only moans piteously between snores.
I wonder just how the human body can make such a noise? I have actually heard our windows rattle! One hot summer night I heard the neighbours slam their windows shut – obviously the sound had penetrated even THEIR house.
And its no good shifting to another room. Family members home for the weekend have cried out from those other rooms, ‘For God’s sake, shut up – you’re snoring!’ Anyway, if you’re on site, you can do the pushing, yelling and knee-ing in your vain attempt to make the noise STOP.
Nowadays when I say ‘You’re snoring!’ he replies ‘So?’ There’s really no answer to that! Then the next day he’s got the nerve to tell you he got no sleep because you kept waking him up to tell him he was snoring. And you’re the one who has seen one o’clock, two o’clock and three o’clock roll past without even shutting your eyes.
And whose brilliant idea was that to sew a tennis ball onto the back of the pyjamas? Really! For a start can you just picture the bright yellow tennis ball sewn on to jamas? Those of you who do sew may be able to tell me how you’d actually sew a tennis ball onto anything! And what about the said jamas in the wash? Or in the ironing (yes, I’m the person who irons even jamas!)? (See ‘Un-Cycling’ on this blog site). Crazy idea! (Sewing said ball on, not ironing jamas!)
I don’t think there’s a solution, do you? Short of holding a pillow over the snorer’s face. I’ve been tempted, I can tell you, but I know forensic science is a bit too good these days, and I’d be found out. And the judge you’d probably come up in front of most likely would be a snorer too with absolutely no sympathy for your plight.
We bought a clock radio which also plays cd’s. What a clever object! That, I had hoped, would drown out the snoring – what a joke! Now not only do I have the snoring, but I also have to listen to Moon River for the forty-sixth time during the night.
And the truly dedicated snorer not only snores in bed. They snore in buses, friend’s houses, waiting rooms and theatres– I once saw a man sitting in front of my snorer at the cinema jump a full six inches when my husband suddenly in one of the quiet bits gave forth a deafening snore. And when you shake them to wake them up, they mutter and grumble and make even more noise – worse than someone rattling their chip packet. On this particular occasion my snorer cleverly got up just before the film finished and made his way out of the theatre, leaving me to take the blame when the man in front turned around and looked me up and down. I could almost see him wondering how on earth such a noise had emanated from this woman.
We once went with friends to see the famous mime artist Marcel Marceau – my friend’s husband suddenly started snoring! Now, you won’t get a performance quieter than a mime show, so we all quickly reacted to push him, shove him, shake him to stop him, then we all giggled, then we all felt embarrassed, whereas the snorer just sat up and looked around, innocent as a new born baby. And had the hide to say later, ‘Wasn’t that great? Enjoyed every moment of it!’
I’ve even spoken to my doctor about this problem. He came up with all sorts of good suggestions – don’t let him sleep on his back – turn him over; and even - had I thought of sewing a tennis…. This is a man doctor, of course.
Recently we were visited by a young mum and her two charming little girls. She and I were busy with a project she was assisting me with, and my husband took the little ones to the lounge room and put a children’s dvd on for them. Now, these little girls had never met my husband before in their life, and they were very polite and sweet little girls, but in no time at all they were shouting, as only females can, ‘Be quiet, you’re snoring. We can’t hear the movie’. Out of the mouths of babes!
He’s tried some of those things that are suggested in magazines every now and then – plugs, mouth guards and so on. Who designs these things? People who have never slept with a person who can truly snore I bet. I can tell you, don’t waste your money – they just don’t work. In fact some of them even distort the sound of the snore into something even worse!
Occasionally there’s an article in the paper about the damage snoring can do to a person’s health, (the snorer of course, but really, what about us snorees?) I usually read these out loud to my snorer, using the same tone of voice as you use when you’ve come across a really interesting bit like ‘Two headed sheep born’ or ‘Man wins Lotto then falls six storeys and survives’. He listens (well, I think he does – its hard to tell with men sometimes), mutters something and returns to his part of the paper. In one ear and out the other!
So, my suggestion is that we change that saying about men to read ‘Men! Can’t live with them. The end!’ I think that would look quite effective cross stitched onto a pillow, if that’s you thing, or as a wall hanging, or even as a tattoo – if you want to know more about tattoos you should look at my friend Michelle’s blog site – expatatior.blogspot/com.
But apart from that, if you have a suggestion for me as to how to stop a dedicated, long term, practiced snorer from snoring, please let me know – you’ll recognise me, I’m the one who looks haggard and drawn from lack of sleep, and I limp a little due to the continual contact of my knee with thigh.

© Nelma Ward