by David K. Randall
This is the tale of how an Australian man
with a vacuum cleaner fixed a mistake in evolution. It
begins in the late 1970s. Colin Sullivan is a physician in
the Respiratory Unit at Sydney's Royal Prince Alfred
Hospital. There, he treats patients who have problems
breathing. The most common complaint, by far, is snoring.
Sullivan knows better than most doctors in his field
that snoring is often a sign of a serious disorder known
as sleep apnea. The disorder had been identified only
about a decade earlier. Patients with sleep apnea experience
a strange nightly sensation that brings the body
disturbingly close to death. As if on a seesaw, the lack of
air causes the oxygen levels in the blood to plummet and
the blood pressure to jump. And for some patients, the
heart stops beating for almost ten seconds at a time.
Eventually, the brain gets the urgent message that
the body is choking. The brain jolts awake, and the
body instinctively gasps for air. Yet as soon as the airway
is clear, the brain immediately falls back to sleep. That's
when the cycle starts again. It is all so quick that it can
happen more than twenty times an hour, all night long,
without the sleeper remembering it the next day.
Someone lying next to him or her, however, can hear
this process at work: when the rhythmic sawing of a
snorer's breath pauses and then becomes a hard ghhackghhack-
ghhack, it's most likely the body frantically
clearing its airway.
Patients with mild cases of sleep apnea complain
of constant exhaustion, a result of never spending
more than a few minutes asleep at a time. Severe cases
can be life-threatening. A 1992 report by the National
Commission on Sleep Disorders estimated that sleep
apnea was the cause of 38,000 fatal heart attacks and
strokes in the United States each year.
Sleep apnea was discovered when a group of
American physicians noticed that some obese patients
complained of overwhelming fatigue and would drift
asleep unintentionally. With a literary flourish, they
named the condition Pickwickian syndrome after a
character in Charles Dickens's first novel, The Pickwick
Papers, who falls asleep standing up. Doctors incorrectly
attributed the sleepiness to a combination of
excess weight and abnormally high levels of carbon
dioxide in the blood. It was only later that science
understood sleep apnea to be a common breathing disorder
caused by the position of the tongue and tissues
of the throat. It was then given the name apnea, from
the Greek word for breathless.
Sleep apnea was on the frontier of sleep medicine in
the late 1970s. Sullivan had recently returned from a fellowship
in Toronto, where he spent three years studying
the breathing patterns of dogs while they slept. English
bulldogs, pugs, and other breeds with pushed-in faces
are the only animals besides humans that experience
sleep apnea. The years spent working with dogs gave
Sullivan an idea. Once back in Sydney, he devised a
mask that fit over a dog's snout. The mask continuously
pumped in air from the surrounding room, increasing
the air pressure in the throat and preventing it from
closing up. Experiments with dogs suggested that the
steady flow of air dramatically improved sleep. All
Sullivan needed was a human to try it out on.
In June of 1980, he found one. A man walked into
the hospital with such a severe case of sleep apnea that
Sullivan recommended an immediate tracheotomy. The
patient refused the tracheotomy, but he was happy to
volunteer as a test patient for Sullivan's air-pressure
machine. Sullivan built a test model that afternoon.
He grabbed the engine out of a vacuum cleaner and
attached it to a handful of plastic tubes. He then took a
diving mask and coated the edges with a silicone sealant
that prevented air from leaking out of it. Soon, he had a
system that allowed him to pump air through the mask
at a controlled pressure. The patient was hooked up to
the monitors, put on the mask and fell asleep almost
instantly. He began experiencing sleep apnea within a
few minutes. Sullivan then slowly started to increase the
pressure in the air flowing through the mask and into
the patient's airway. Suddenly, the apnea stopped. The
patient began breathing normally. As Sullivan watched
in amazement, the patient instantly went into deep
REM sleep - a rare phenomenon suggesting that his
brain had been starved of restorative sleep. Sullivan then
slowly decreased the pressure of the air flowing through
the mask. The apnea returned.
Sullivan left the settings on the machine at a level
where the patient was free of sleep apnea. Then he
waited. For about seven straight hours, the patient was
in abnormally intense, deep sleep. When he woke up
the next day, he told Sullivan that he felt awake and alert
for the first time in years.
Sullivan began searching for other patients willing
to serve as guinea pigs. He found five whose long histories
of excessive daytime sleepiness and loud snoring
seriously affected their lives. One subject, a thirteenyear-
old boy, had been classified as mentally retarded
after he was unable to stay awake at school. Sullivan
observed each patient for three nights in a sleep lab. On
the third night, he had each test the mask. Just as with the patient in the hospital, the positive airway pressure
prevented their throats from closing while they slept.
Patients told him that the improvement in their sleep
was life-changing.
But Sullivan's mask wasn't embraced in the medical
field as quickly. Many doctors were not convinced that
sleep apnea was a serious condition, and even fewer
thought that a person would be willing to sleep wearing
a mask night after night. One told Sullivan that his
machine was nothing more than a money-making fad.
Sullivan continued to refine the mask, experimenting
with ways to give it a tighter seal on the face without
making it more uncomfortable. With the help of an
engineer from the University of Sydney, he began crafting
masks that featured various shapes of the nose. He
experimented with motors to cut down on the noise,
pulling one from a paint compressor and another from
a different-model vacuum cleaner. Patients began coming
to him from all over Australia. By 1985, Sullivan
had more than a hundred patients using a continuous
positive airway pressure device on a long-term basis.
The next year, Sullivan met a former university professor
and fellow Australian named Peter Farrell. At the
time, Farrell had recently given up a job studying kidney
disorders at the University of Washington to become a
business consultant for Baxter International, which by
2011 was a $30 billion health-care company. He was on
the lookout for new medical devices. Sullivan said that
he had one.
Farrell asked to talk with patients who were using
the machine. They told him that they slept with it every
night despite the drawbacks, chief among them being
the noise. The machine still ran off of a vacuum-cleaner
engine, creating a whirl so loud that one tester told
Farrell that he had cut a hole in his bedroom wall so he
could leave the base of the machine in the next room.
Another patient who met with Farrell had bruises in an
oval pattern over his face from the suction caused by the
mask, but still wore it every night regardless.
Farrell did a rough calculation in his head: If sleep
apnea affected just one out of a hundred snorers, it
would be a $100 billion business. Farrell and Sullivan
raised $600,000 to commercialize Sullivan's machine. The new company, called ResMed, introduced its first
continuous positive airway pressure device, known as a
CPAP, into the market in 1989. Within five years, the
company was making $300 million a year in revenue.
A study in 1994 found that about 10 percent of
women, and 25 percent of men, have difficulties breathing
in their sleep. These numbers climb as a person gets
older, so that as many as one out of three elderly men
have at least a mild case of sleep apnea. All told, about
20 million Americans have the disorder.
Its cause could simply be the trade-off that the
human body makes for having the ability to speak in
a complex language. Homo sapiens differed from
Neanderthals by developing a flatter face, a smaller jawbone,
and a tongue that descends deeper into the throat
than in any other mammal. With this new hardware,
humans were able to move beyond making simple grunts.
Those first, complicated sounds uttered by Homo sapiens
soon developed into language. Jared Diamond, a professor
at UCLA, called the positioning of the tongue our
greatest evolutionary advantage. "It's easy to appreciate
how a tiny change in anatomy resulting in capacity for
speech would produce a huge change in behavior," he
noted. But the positioning of the tongue in the Homo
sapiens mouth complicates the acts of eating, drinking
and breathing. Food could literally go down the wrong
pipe, a biological problem unique to modern humans.
The longer tissues of the soft palate at the back of the
throat made it possible for the airway to become blocked
after a routine exhalation, which could start the cycle of
sleep apnea. A large neck, tongue, or tonsils, or a narrow
airway often signal that a person will develop sleep apnea
because of the increased chance that breathing will
become blocked during the night.
Sleep apnea is a flaw that is part of the blueprint of
the human body, and excess fat often teases it out. The
chances of developing sleep apnea go up with weight
because the tissues in the throat become enlarged, making
it more likely that they will obstruct the airway during
sleep. For some patients, losing weight alone can
solve the problem. Other changes in behavior - like
drinking less alcohol, cutting back on smoking, sleeping
on one's side instead of on the back, doing exercises or
playing musical instruments that build up the muscles
in the throat - can also help.
Breathing masks like ResMed's are the most common
medical treatment for sleep apnea, but they aren't
for everyone. Some patients never get used to the awkward
sensation of sleeping with a mask on their face, or
never become comfortable with breathing in the cold air
that is continuously pumped into their mouth through-out the night. In the long term, patients with mild sleep
apnea wear the masks between 40 and 80 percent of the
time, according to various studies.
Dental devices are typically the next choice. These
aren't as effective as CPAP machines for severe sleep
apnea, but they may be easier for some patients to use,
especially those who have to travel frequently. One of
the most popular looks like a sports mouthguard. It
forces the lower jaw forward and slightly down to keep
the airway open. Another device holds the tongue in
place to prevent it from getting in the way.
I made my way to Peter Farrell's office in the
ResMed building. He sat behind his desk, oval glasses
perched on his nose, and stared at me with the intensity
of a boxer. He had made a fortune from his work with
Sullivan. Still, he thought that sleep apnea remained
poorly understood and underrecognized in the United
States. "We are still in the early phases of a monster
area," he told me, in a thick Australian accent. "This is
arguably the biggest health problem in the country and
we think that three in 10 adults have it. There isn't anything
remotely close to that. We have so much runway
ahead of us that it's like we haven't even started."
Much of ResMed's growth has come since 2000.
That year, four separate studies found conclusive evidence
that sleep apnea was associated with increased
rates of hypertension. Left untreated, patients with sleep
apnea are at a greater risk of developing kidney disease
or vision problems, or having a heart attack or stroke.
Those studies helped convince government insurance
programs such as Medicare, Medicaid, and the British
National Health Service to pay for a portion of the cost
of each device, which can be several-thousand dollars if
a patient were to buy it out of pocket.
As scientists began to understand sleep apnea in
more depth, they started to see it as the foundation
for serious illnesses affecting the mind. In one study,
researchers at UCLA conducted brain scans of patients
with long histories of sleep apnea and compared them
with the scans of control subjects who had normal sleep
patterns. The investigations focused their inquiry on the
mammillary bodies, two structures on the underside of
the brain so named because they resemble small breasts.
Mammillary bodies are thought to be an important part
of the memory and have long been associated with cases
of amnesia. This memory center of the brain was 20
percent smaller in patients with sleep apnea. Had a doctor
looked at a patient's brain scan alone, it would have
suggested severe cognitive impairment: a similar shrinkage
in the size of the mammillary bodies is found in
patients with Alzheimer's disease or those who experienced
memory loss as a result of alcoholism. It was the
first indication that sleep apnea leaves a permanent scar
beyond the daily difficulties of focus and attention that
come with sleepiness. "The reduced size of the mammillary
bodies suggests that they suffered a harmful event
resulting in sizable cell loss," noted Ronald Harper, professor
of neurobiology at the David Geffen School of
Medicine at UCLA and the lead investigator for the
study. "The fact that patients' memory problems continue
despite treatment for their sleep disorder implies a
long-lasting brain injury."
Sleep apnea's effects on the brain can also have devastating
consequences on the highway. By any measure,
commercial truckers have a difficult job. Confined to
one position and forced to maintain attention for a long
time while racing to meet constant deadlines, many
truckers wear the signs of stress on their bodies. Stefanos
N. Kales, an assistant professor at Harvard Medical
School and the Harvard School of Public Health, began
tracking the outcome of a truck driver's lifestyle, including
poor nutrition, little exercise and less sleep. Obesity
was widespread and contributed to a much higher rate
of sleep-disorder breathing than what is found in the
general population. By Kales's estimates, a driver with
sleep apnea was seven times more likely to get in an accident.
More disturbingly, Kales found that one out of
every five accidents involving a commercial truck was
caused by its driver falling asleep at the wheel.
Drivers are rarely willing to admit that they have
sleep apnea, much less seek treatment, because doing
so could increase their chances of losing their commercial
licenses and livelihoods. Kales led a study in which
his team observed nearly five hundred truckers from
fifty different companies over a period of 15 months.
Screening questionnaires flagged about one in every
six drivers as showing signs of probable sleep apnea.
Of these, only 20 drivers agreed to spend a night in a
sleep lab. All were shown to have the disorder. And yet
only one driver out of the group began treatment,
using a CPAP device regularly. "Screenings of truck
drivers will be ineffective unless they are federally
mandated or required by employers," Kales and his
team members noted.
Author's Bio |
David K. Randall is a senior reporter at Reuters and has also
written for the New York Times, Forbes and New York. He is an
adjunct professor of journalism at New York University and lives
in Brooklyn, New York. |
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