In the 1990s, a Houston orthodontist who snored invented an anti-snoring mouthpiece that moves the lower jaw forward to maintain an open airway while you’re asleep. I heard about this, contacted a Boston dentist who made a mold of my teeth and started wearing a “snore guard” at night.

That dentist retired, and another specialist took a mold, went through elaborate calculations and provided me with a second-generation, custom-fitted appliance. I thought it would last forever, but this year it fell apart.

I discovered an online anti-snoring industry, with offerings of all shapes and sizes. The device I ordered came in several parts. The assembly instructions include heating a pot of water and making a do-it-yourself mold. Alas, this mail-order device didn’t move my lower jaw far enough. I went back to snoring, which did not please the Pianist.

I found a Concord dentist’s website with a picture of what looked like my broken snore-stopper. I made an appointment and took my broken device, along with a book to read while waiting. I didn’t open the book, but instead enjoyed the tropical fish tank until my name got called.

The days of making an impression of your teeth are past. The latest generation is digital. The technician scans your teeth, and as I write these words, the images are in California being turned into a new snore guard.

Feeling a bit drowsy on my way to Jaffrey, I pulled off Route 202 at the Peterborough Plaza and left the car running in order to keep cool. A few minutes later, I felt refreshed and ready to go.

Before I could put the car into drive, two police cars, blue lights flashing, pulled up next to me. Like most drivers, I’ve been stopped for one reason or another, but this is the first time I’ve been nabbed for napping. I rolled down the window, and the officer told me a concerned person had reported that someone was in an occupied car, engine running, windows up. That someone was me.

I told the officer that I was returning from a dental appointment in Concord (I didn’t go into the snore guard details) and decided to pull off the road. He said, “That was a wise thing to do,” and then, “You wouldn’t happen to have your driver’s license, would you?”

 “I sure do,” I replied, and handed it to him.

He took the license and looked at the year I was born. “Very impressive,” he said.

I am grateful to the good Samaritan who called the police. Yes, it was a case of mistaken emergency, but what if it had been otherwise? And I was thankful to the police officers, my “first responders.”

The next chapter of this story will be a return to the dentist’s office in a few weeks to pick up my new device. This time, I may take a nap before I leave. One thing I won’t do is try out the new snore guard on my way home.

Joseph D. Steinfield lives in Keene and Jaffrey. He can be reached at joe@joesteinfield.com.