I am a confirmed sufferer of sleep apnea. By “confirmed” I mean that my wife witnessed me glide between breaths of oxygen like a hang glider sailing from one refreshing mountain peak to another. Swoosh! Aah!

The medical establishment has not yet officially validated my wife's diagnosis. That would require—horror of horrors—a sleep study! How the hell am I supposed to fall asleep with a bunch of people watching? Talk about pressure! That's more nerve-racking than trying to “perform” on a porno set, and just as degrading!

As my friend so graciously reminded me, would John Stamos ever wear a CPAP? But isn't fatigue also unsexy?I also have Oppositional Defiance Disorder (another self-diagnosis) and that means I refuse to do whatever I am told to do. The dentist told me to go on antibiotics for my tooth infection, but a Jack Daniels and hydrogen peroxide cocktail works just as well. I call it a “Hack Jack” since everyone and their mother likes to talk about life and recipe hacks nowadays.

If I'm prescribed a sleep apnea mask, maybe I'll be able to get through my day without 7 cups of coffee. 7 cups is a normal amount, right?

Did you know that coffee is the most traded product on earth? So no coffee trader went broke underestimating staccato snoring. Same thing with cocaine peddlers. Pablo Escobar didn't have more cash than Bill Gates because people go through their lives feeling light and buoyant. The demand for stimulants suggests that many people suffer from obstructed airways, not just air traffic controllers at O'Hare.

Another fun fact: coffee is loaded with antioxidants, which slow down the aging process. So I can live longer and enjoy many more years of exhaustion.

So I will be the man in the plastic and rubber mask. What an affront to my sense of self! I used to be a male model that looked like Justin Bieber in his most pubescent phase. Now I'm 35 years old (which is still young if not very young, thank you) and the straps of this apparatus will flatten my gray hairs against my greasy and sweaty scalp, possibly leaving red marks and a bad case of bed head. As my friend so graciously reminded me, would John Stamos ever wear a CPAP?

But isn't fatigue also unsexy? I think of this young man I used to know. His name was Noah, like the Biblical patriarch. He had red hair, freckles, and a sleep disorder. I pitied his low energy, his slurred speech, and his inability to tie his shoes (he loafed in his loafers). His favorite pastime was to fall asleep in movie theaters. I wasn't a zombie like him, but a virile alpha male (with some beta tendencies). Life is short and I was full of it until I started choking on my own throat.

Fortunately, my wife loves me for who I am. She tolerates my crankiness, irritability, self-absorption, chronic tardiness, neurotic anxiety, unconventional views on almost everything, and complete lack of hygiene or self-catering, including any interest in showers or deodorant.

A CPAP mask should be no problem at all!