Drowning The Genie

It's the end of summer vacation and a good time to reflect back on all that was. In this installment, I shall talk about my sinus cavities. They were very influential. They defined me for a good part of the past two months.

I have been having off and on again sinus problems for a while now. It's nothing serious. It's just uncomfortable. For some reason, the problems seemed worse than usual this summer. I imagine that the weather, which ranged from very low to very high pressure systems, might have had something to do with this. There were points where even looking down to check the knitting progress was just short of being actually painful.

I didn't mention it much, though. I knew that if I said the wrong thing to the wrong person, they were going to make the suggestion. I did not want to hear the suggestion. I dreaded the suggestion. But I knew I'd get it. My doctor had already made the suggestion.

My doctor is not what you'd call an earthy-crunchy-let's-chant-and -steam-some-herbs-and-you'll-feel-better-in-no-time sort of physician. She's pretty traditional. So if she is saying that it might be time to consider the neti pot, then you know it's not anything too crazy. That or she is just so sick of hearing my whining that she'll resort to anything in order to shut me up.

In the end, we decided that it was probably not the best idea. This conclusion was not based on any medical reason. Instead, it was more about my somewhat over the top, childish and not exactly subtle reaction to the very thought.

I objected to the idea for several reasons. Among them were the fact that it is disgusting, I had reasonable concerns about whether or not I'd be dribbling water down my throat or getting it in my ear canal, it is disgusting, I was already using saline sprays and (as I may have mentioned) it is disgusting.

Also, the pot looks like Aladdin's lamp and I was afraid of drowning the genie. Then I couldn't wish for healthier sinuses.

However, the situation deteriorated enough this summer that I was past caring about such things as disgust and lifeless, floating genies. I broke down and got the pot. I have two renditions of this event, both of which I will share with you now. The first is what I like to call The Big, Fat Baby Who Overreacts To Everything And Couldn't Stop Whining If You Muzzled Her version:

OH MY GOD!!!! Neti Pot???? Do you realize what they want me to do??? I have to stick a stupid teapot up my nose and dump water in it until it comes out the other freakin' side!!! Yeah. That's right. It's a head enema. A headema!!!!! Oh, this is just great. I particularly like the part where you hold your head wrong and it comes out your stupid eyeballs!!! Or how no one tells you how to breathe and you just have to figure that out for yourself before you drown right in your own stupid bathroom. That'll look good on the 6:00 news. My mother will be so proud...

Then, once you've survived the horror and are thanking any and all deities who may or may not have had a hand in your living through this nightmare, you have to do the OTHER FREAKIN' SIDE!!!!!!!!

If there were any doubts in any minds at this point, let me clarify things for you. Water boarding is, in fact, torture. There is now no question about it and I don't want any further discussion on the matter. I will personally go testify before any committee that wants me. I will demonstrate if that's what they want.

Oh, and by the way. In case you were wondering. I've read that stupid pamphlet fifty times now and I still can't find anything in there about what to do if you happen to have an Absurdly Gi-normous Kitty in the sink. Not a word about AGKs who love running water in all forms and do not care if it happens to be snot water dribbling out of mommy's face. No. They don't mention that at all. He sees the whole thing as a marvelous parlor trick performed just for his entertainment and nothing will stand between him and the process. Not even a closed door. I should probably write to the company about that and see what they say. I'll bet they don't have a plan for that, those big, stupid neti pot torture executives.

This is a nightmare of epic proportions and everyone involved is a big ol' jerk for making me do this. But I shouldn't be worried because, apparently, I will "just get used to it." Isn't that nice?

Now, let's take a look at the Grown Up Making The Best Of A Bad Situation And Who Will Be Mature About This version of the same distasteful event:

Well, it's not ever going to be the greatest part of my day, nor should anyone be looking to me as the new poster child for Nasal Irrigation. However, it is possible to get past the worst of it and practice really does help. Some days you get it right, some days you get it wrong. That's the way it goes. While I don't see myself ever "getting used to it," I have to admit that using the neti pot has worked wonders for my sinuses. I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that I am breathing more clearly than I have in years. It's been a couple of weeks now and, so far, there have been no ill effects and I guess the practice is something I can live with. I am a fan of breathing so that should help to motivate me in getting past the Ick Factor.

Also, if I remember to feed the cats before doing the whole neti thing there is far less chance of any AGKs breaking down the door because the sound of running water is too much for him to resist. Usually. Sometimes there is nothing to be done for it. Maybe I can train him as an assistant or something. He could be my Neti Towel Boy...

I'd like to think that I'm being mature about this overall. The reality is that I'm probably alternating between the two extremes most of the time. But I can breathe and when I look down to find that stupid dropped stitch or to figure out where I missed a yarnover, it doesn't feel like my sinuses are going to explode out of my head. This is bad for the knitting. It's very bad. Worse than a dropped stitch, I should think.

But I still feel kind of guilty about that poor genie...

SA