Friday, April 04, 2008

In the Battle of "Dude, That Freaks Me the Heck Out" and "Man, I Wish I Could Breathe Unobstructed," Which Will Win?

Well, it's not quite a Neti pot, but I did break down and purchase a similar product, the Ayr Saline Nasal Rinse Kit. And, sure, I've since learned that there are several people who have achieved the same effect using syringes, turkey basters, and table salt, but hey, for the convenience of having my salt pre-measured and packaged, I'll willingly shell out the 10 bucks for 100 doses. Especially since I am now a convert to the Ways of the Saline Nasal Rinse.

Yes, it's still kind of freaky (more on that in a minute), but danged if it doesn't work. In the two weeks that I've been subjecting myself to shooting saltwater in one nostril and out the other I've noticed a remarkable change in my ability to breathe through my nose unimpeded by sinus blockage. In fact, the only time in the past couple of weeks that I've woken up congested was when I went to bed so late that I skipped my nightly rinsing routine.

Now, is it a perfect cure for what ails me? Not quite; this week I have had a bit of a runny nose and some blockage, but it's much, much less than what it was before, especially considering the yo-yo weather which usually knocks me for a loop. So, not perfect, but a danged sight better than what I dealt with before.

What surprises me is that this is something that I, a sufferer of allergy problems for the bulk of my life, have never heard of before the Associate Dean told me about it a few weeks back, but now that I've started extolling its virtues to one and all, I discover that not only are many other people aware of it, its because either they or someone close to them is already a convert; if only they had tried to convert me as well, who knows how many allergy-driven sick days I might have avoided?

There is one strange little drawback to the process which I have discovered, which kind of amps up the "man, that's freaky" nature of the whole thing; in other words, if the general idea of the Neti Pot/nasal rinse weirds you out at all, you might want to think twice before continuing.'

Consider yourself warned.

The first time it happened was late last week when, during my pre-bedtime nasal rinse I had the distinct impression that not all of the water that went into my nose came out again. But, as I didn't exactly feel like there was water sloshing around anywhere inside my head, I assumed it was my mind playing tricks on me, finished up my new nightly ritual, and headed to bed. As I lay there in bed, I turned over onto my left-hand side, felt a strange sensation tickling my sinus cavities, and suddenly had to rush to the bathroom as a trickle of left-over salt water escaped from whatever pocket in my sinuses it had wandered into. Strange, no? After blowing my nose -- gently, as all of the literature orders -- I went back to bed, laid down, turned back onto my side, and then had to rush back to the bathroom as yet more of the salt water decided to make its exodus. This time I stood over the bathroom sink, twisting my head from side to side trying to dislodge whatever might be remaining. When no more trickles were forthcoming, I head back to bed, laid down, and turned onto my opposite side, which prompted the third and final rush to the bathroom. Third and final not because that was the last of the water, but because I didn't leave the bathroom until I was that the every last bit of the surreptitiously placed salt water had been forced from hiding.

How did I manage this? Well, as I stood there, head cranks in increasingly odd angles over the sink, I recalled that on the Neti Pot video, the zed-word-ified/robotic lady doing the demonstration finished up by doing some stretches. Thinking "what could it hurt?" I spread my legs should width apart, bent down and tried to touch my left foot with my right hand; sure enough, the last vestiges of the stubborn salt water was finally flushed from its hiding place, and I was able to go to bed with no further incidents, convinced that the addition of stretched to my routine would prevent any embarrassing spurts of salt water from my nose during the course of my day.

Until, that is, yesterday, when my early morning nasal rinse and its moment of "gee, why isn't more water coming out of my other nostril?" was answered approximately 10 hours later when I was at the gym, bending over to do some concentration curls . . .


Flunky lover said...

I told you to try the neti pot months ago. I knew you didn't read my comments. Shouldn't a person who regards himself as cellophane man be extra careful not to purposely do it to someone else? This post will fall on blind eyes but I am glad that you're getting relief.

Cap'n Neurotic said...

Wow, I think Flunky Lover was just channeling my grandmother's spirit with that little guilt trip.

I honestly have no recollection of a comment about neti pots on the blog. And, to refresh my memory, I did a quick search of my Gmail, which has a copy of every single reply anyone has made to any of my blog posts since September, 2005; not a single mention of a neti pot (or netti or netty or any other sort of pot at all) to be found. So, it looks like I was never notified that a comment had been made, and thus am absolved of any possible guilt. Yay me!

And just because I don't rise to the "How'd you like this week's House?" bait doesn't mean I don't read your comments . . .

Flunky lover said...

Fair enough.

I tried searching for it yesterday as well with no luck. Sometimes I have trouble posting a comment and that may have been one of those times. I even put a link in it to show you what it was.

You really should watch House. It's a medical version of Sherlock Holmes. You don't like Sherlock Holmes?