Blink.

The road rippled in my vision.

Blink.

Somehow I had appeared in the left lane. Wasn't I just in the right?

Blink.

Why is there a big wall in the road?

I woke chilled, swathed in the winds whipping through the open windows of my Chevrolet Cavalier. The song "Magic Carpet Ride" blared on my stereo. As my tires squealed against the white winter-washed road, I rapidly pumped the brake to keep from slamming into the back of the 18-wheeler traveling in front of me.

I hadn't had enough coffee to remain lucid. Yet again, I had narrowly avoided a dangerous automobile accident.

By mid-February of last year, this wasn't an unfamiliar scenario. I was regularly falling asleep during my drive to work in Flint, and no amount of shock to my senses was effective enough to keep my chin off my chest. And after finding no difference from forcing myself to earlier bed times, I knew I had a problem.

The thing was, I had seen this before. Sleep apnea is an illness my father has and, as it turned out, I would come to find that it runs in the family.

The illness is a potentially fatal condition that causes the airways of the throat to be obstructed while sleeping. The term "apnea" is Greek, which means "without breath." Poor breathing leads to a lack of sleep which can lead to all sorts of horrible conditions such as high blood pressure, cardiovascular disease, memory problems, headaches and, worst of all, restlessness.

Sufferers can literally fall asleep anywhere. In my case: while driving, during important meetings and in classes. I became nothing short of narcoleptic.

The thing about the condition is its stereotypical patients are middle-aged men carrying excess weight (i.e. my father). It's typically not a disorder suffered by lean, 20-something health nuts - me (disregard the fat neck in my mug shot). But if there is anything I learned from a life-long habit of snoring loud enough to bring the house down, sometimes you have to hear it to believe it.

So, I recorded myself sleeping one night. Imagine, if you can, a crocodile choking on a squealing pig. It was atrocious: the severity of the loudness, the lapses in breathing, the unseemly snorting. I decided to seek out an ear, nose and throat specialist.

During my visit, the doctor poked around in my throat, looked up my nose and did all the other normal doctor things. When he announced that I had a "big uvula," I said, "What?" He speculated that my tonsils and uvula were too big and causing a perpetual choking condition - sleep apnea - while I slept.

My physician and I decided it would be a good idea for me to visit a sleep clinic just to make sure. If I did have sleep apnea, we'd be able to make a case to my insurance to cover treatment.

At the clinic, I was hooked up to a multitude of sensors that monitored me while I rested. It was similar to an electric chair except in a bed and without the life-ending jolts. After I got over the discomfort of all the gear, I finally fell asleep ... kind of.

I was told it takes about 40 sleep disturbances during the night to be considered afflicted with sleep apnea. During my test, I went beyond 100 (some patients hit more than 400). There were many 30-second periods and one 50-second period in which I stopped breathing altogether because my throat was obstructed.

The result of the medical endeavors was a surgery in which my tonsils and part of my uvula were removed. Almost immediately, I could tell a difference. It was phenomenal. Finally, I went to sleep and woke up rested.

My whole life changed. My mood, my drives and my general outlook on life all vastly improved. I'm a "morning person" now. I fire out of bed at 7:30 a.m. everyday, pound the pavement to the gym, pump iron and sprint to all my classes.

My message to you is to pay more attention your own sleeping habits. The reason you can never make your 8 a.m. class might not be a penchant for laziness. The American Sleep Apnea Association estimates that about 12 million people suffer from the disorder and about 10 million of them are undiagnosed.

That's quite a few people, and I'm willing to guess not all of them are over the hill.

Joseph Montes is the State News opinion writer. Reach him at montesjo@msu.edu.