Stop Snoring Remedies

Question by Selina Kyle: How much does your partner’s snoring bother you – Is there a solution to this madness, I haven’t slept in days

Best answer:

Answer by Pedantic Scorpion
Got a spare room? I really sympathize ……

What do you think? Answer below!

Question by villaltaroger: what is this surgery called?
its when a person snores allot and they do surgery on you for you no more snore like im 13 and my doctor is telling my mom about this snoring surgery for me cause i snore when i sleep

Best answer:

Answer by sakura_kisses_36
it depends on what is causing your snoring.
the most common one is Uvulopalatopharyngoplasty or also called UPPP which is the method of removing the uvula and pharyngeal arches

Add your own answer in the comments!

Question by LionQueen: What would you rate this? 1 – 10?
In the heart of a heaving, poverty-stricken town named Ashville, stood a small, run down building, a filthy sign dangled above the front door—which read, by the dim light of the moon, Ashville home for the homeless youths. The gray, crowded neighborhood kept motionless, silent except for the echoing footsteps by town guards from the streets, on patrol continuously.

The early hours of a chilly, September night took cause with each resident, nearly all asleep. Within the building, inside a dormitory on the second floor overlooking the street, a troop of guards questioning a young-looking man with violent shoves and kicks could be witnessed from the lone window, whose thin shutters had been thrown ajar by the heavy gusts of wind. He had violated curfew, clearly. It was just about half-past two in the morning, and curfew started at approximately nine in the evening. Penalties for disobeying curfew were harsh ones.

Lying on her cold, steely bed, eyes open and unable to shut, was fifteen year old Cornelia Lowell, hidden partially by the thin, ragged blanket provided. She was the only one awake in the crammed dormitory in which she resided. The snores and unconscious drones of her fellow occupants made it difficult for her think, let alone sleep.

Her bed was placed next to the window, allowing her a clear view of the town. A tremor erupted through her body as yet another burst of air entered. Cornelia, positioning herself underneath the blanket, warmed her numb hands by rubbing them against each other, her breath created frosty mists. Suddenly, the snoring of the occupants grew fainter, and the ticking of the hall clock grew louder, echoed as thuds to Cornelia’s ears. Suddenly, her forehead creased, and her chest tensed.

There were thuds.

She lifted a part of the blanket off her head, and looked, despite the dimness, in the direction of the door before her. Cornelia heard the clumsy stomping of feet. Then, they halted—she saw their feet’s silhouette from the empty space beneath the door. She heard an impression of murmurs. With a creaking noise, the door partly opened, and a little girl’s head appeared.

“Cornelia?” She whispered.

Cornelia let out a breath of relief, and sat up. “I’m over here, Denise.” A tiny child, with hair like sizzling fire entered the room in silence, two more girls followed her. Neither of them was older than seven years of age. “What are you doing in here?” The little girls simply remained standing before her.

Another girl overlooked the question and said, “Did we wake you up?” Cornelia gestured them to sit on her bed, they did so with soft, silent movements.

“No, Jill,” Cornelia smiled. “I could’t sleep.”

The little girls glimpsed at each other with miserable smiles. “We couldn’t sleep, either.” Jill said in a small voice.

“How come?”

They hesitated. Jill’s eyes lowered, while Denise fiddled with the hem of her nightdress. The one that was yet to be named, the youngest, however, looked at Cornelia with a sort of teary gloom. “We . . . we heard you’re l-leaving t-t-tomorrow. Forever.” Shaky sobs started—something she was not at all prepared for. Cornelia seemed to have frozen for a moment, her senses lost in a dream. She was quite lost for words. Glancing around the room anxiously, she leaned towards the girl, and drew her into a comforting hug.

“Who told you?” She asked quietly.

Denise, wiping the tears that formed, unable to keep them from falling, mumbled, “It doesn’t matter. It’s not fair . . . you’ve only been here for the summer!”

Cornelia forced a wide smile. “The best summer of my life, too,”

“Please don’t go, Cornelia.” Jill said, with her eyes till staring down her dress. “We’ll miss you and your stories so much.”

“There’s really nothing I can do about it, you know that.” She murmured, shoving a lock of Jill’s blonde hair behind her ear. A bitter breeze swept upon them, shuddering, they fell silent. Watching as the young girls mourned for tomorrow, Cornelia felt a surge of guilt. These girls had been her lone source of joy in this dreadful place. The trials of surviving seemed like a breeze to these children, and in a way, though it may not be after the next day, gave the impression of being so to Cornelia as well. In a week, it would be exactly a year since Cornelia and her brother’s removal from their mother. A year that tested her ability to survive on her own, in spite of the so-called ‘homes’ they were sent to live in. They hardly spent more than a couple of weeks in each home, this being the longest one they’ve spent in, yet.

Best answer:

Answer by George George
10/10 brilliant

Add your own answer in the comments!

Question by DutchGirlinOregon: Our new kitty wheezes and meows like a creaking door… is this abnormal?
We got a new kitty recently, and I’ve noticed that he wheezes when he’s asleep. He’s not snoring, because I’ve heard him do it a few times while sitting inactively, but definitely awake. He doesn’t cough, and he doesn’t wheeze when exercising a lot or anything, so I don’t think it’s feline asthma.

When he got him, he’d had his shots, worm treatment, he was fixed, and he got microchipped, so presumably if there was anything seriously wrong, the vet would’ve noticed.

In addition, this may or may not be related, but the kitty can’t meow normally. Whenever he meows, he sounds like a rusty door creaking while being opened or something, my fiance calls it more of a croaking, it’s really weird. Could this be related, or do some kitties just have really strange meows?

Best answer:

Answer by jane_vernon
If it continues I would take him to the vet just in case.

As for the meowing, some cats have very funny meows and no cat is the same!

Its just his way of being unique!

What do you think? Answer below!

Question by LionQueen: What would you rate this piece?
Hi! I’m 14 and this is my first serious story. What do you think? Rate 1-10 and give me feedbacks? thank you!

In the heart of a heaving, poverty-stricken town place of a town, a small, run down building quietly. It’s filthy sign dangled above the front door—which read, by the weak light of the moon, Ashville home for the homeless youths. The gray, crowded neighborhood kept motionless, silent except for the echoing footsteps by town guards from the streets, on patrol continuously.

The early hours of a chilly, September night took effect with each resident, nearly all asleep. Within the building, inside a dormitory on the second floor overlooking the street, a troop of guards questioning a young-looking man with violent shoves and kicks could be witnessed from the lone window, whose thin shutters had been thrown ajar by the heavy gusts of wind. He had violated curfew, clearly. It was just about half-past two in the morning, and curfew started at approximately nine in the evening. Penalties for disobeying curfew were harsh ones.

Lying on her cold, steely bed, eyes open and unable to shut, was fifteen year old Cornelia Lowell, hidden partially by the thin, ragged blanket provided. She was the only one awake in the crammed dormitory in which she resided. The snores and unconscious drones of her fellow occupants made it difficult for her think, let alone sleep.

Her bed was placed next to the window, allowing her a clear view of the town. A tremor erupted through her body as yet another burst of air entered. Cornelia, positioning herself underneath the blanket, warmed her numb hands by rubbing them against each other, her breath created frosty mists. Suddenly, the snoring of the occupants grew fainter, and the ticking of the hall clock grew louder, echoed as thuds to Cornelia’s ears. Her forehead creased, and her chest tensed.

There were thuds.

She lifted a part of the blanket off her head, and looked, despite the dimness, in the direction of the door before her. Cornelia heard the clumsy stomping of feet. Then, they halted—she saw their feet’s silhouette from the empty space beneath the door. She heard an impression of murmurs. With a creaking noise, the door partly opened, and a little girl’s head appeared.

“Cornelia?” She whispered.

Cornelia let out a breath of relief, and sat up. “I’m over here, Denise.” A tiny child, with hair like sizzling fire entered the room in silence, two more girls followed her. Neither of them was older than seven years. “What are you doing in here?” The little girls simply remained standing before her.

Another girl overlooked the question and said, “Did we wake you up?” Cornelia gestured them to sit on her bed, they did so with soft, silent movements.

“No, Jill,” Cornelia smiled. “I could’t sleep.”

The little girls glimpsed at each other with miserable smiles. “We couldn’t sleep, either.” Jill said in a small voice.

“How come?”

They hesitated. Jill’s eyes lowered, while Denise fiddled with the hem of her nightdress. The one that was yet to be named, the youngest, however, looked at Cornelia with a sort of teary gloom. “We . . . we heard you’re l-leaving t-t-tomorrow. Forever.” Shaky sobs started—something she was not at all prepared for. Cornelia seemed to have frozen for a moment, her senses lost in a dream. She was quite lost for words. Glancing around the room anxiously, she leaned towards the girl, and drew her into a comforting hug.

“Who told you?” She asked quietly.

Denise, wiping the tears that formed, unable to keep them from falling, mumbled, “It doesn’t matter. It’s not fair . . . you’ve only been here for the summer!”

Cornelia forced a wide smile. “The best summer of my life, too,”

“Please don’t go, Cornelia.” Jill said, with her eyes till staring down her dress. “We’ll miss you and your stories so much.”

“There’s really nothing I can do about it, you know that.” She murmured, shoving a lock of Jill’s blonde hair behind her ear. A bitter breeze swept upon them, shuddering, they fell silent. Watching as the young girls mourned for tomorrow, Cornelia felt a surge of guilt. These girls had been her lone source of joy in this dreadful place. The trials of surviving seemed like a breeze to these children, and in a way, though it may not be after the next day, gave the impression of being so to Cornelia as well. In a week, it would be exactly a year since Cornelia and her brother’s removal from their mother. A year that tested her ability to survive on her own, in spite of the so-called ‘homes’ they were sent to live in. They hardly spent more than a couple of weeks in each home, this being the longest one they’ve spent in, yet.

Best answer:

Answer by LK
Rating = five.

Reason = Your story begins at the wrong place. Is it about a young man beaten or about Cornelia? Is it about the ‘home’ or the ‘curfew’ or what? What is the most important start you can give this story? Once you decide that, it can be your ‘hook’ – and it should be a great one.
Passive voice writing and unneeded words ruin what you have here.
Revisions can clear that up.
Remember, all good writers do many revisions.
Omit unneeded words, find a great hook, write in active voice and you have a good story.
It’s also good to know a plot.
So far, the story seems to lack one.
Good luck.

Give your answer to this question below!