A Miracle: The Neti Pot

READ THIS IN A BRITISH ACCENT BECAUSE THE POST IS ABOUT MUCOUS.

I am sorry, dear readers, that I am veering off the path of straightforward beauty to bring you this aside, but I just can't contain my delight at the results produced this thing called the Neti Pot. Now I am not going too far on a ledge when I dare to say that because of the results of this contraption, my nose does appear smaller and therefore it lends itself to being featured on TGB. Please read on so that you can benefit from my findings and perhaps shrink your nose one week before your birthday party so that your proboscis may appear somewhat normal-sized.

Not but a fortnight ago, I was speaking to R, and she was relating to me a daily practice kept by one of her university colleagues. He swore that this thing, called  Neti Pot was keeping him illness free. It is a little non-mechanical device, ranging in general shape from a genie's lamp to a teapot-- that uses gravity to rinse out the mucous from your nostrils. It is a preventative method, and a solutions method. 

Not 1 week back, I started to feel the onset of something akin to a cold. I finally admitted to myself something was wrong two days before sharing these findings with you, dear reader, when I couldn't smell my perfume and my face had taken on the distinct shape of a full moon. I had been cutting back on all my indulgences, so this led me to conclude that the symptoms to which I had been slowly succumbing to were in fact illness-related. Specifically, they were fluids that were stored in my sinus cavities. 

This evening, upon returning to my humble abode in temperatures which were close to those one would find in Dante's version of hell, I felt my full moon face, nose and all the fluids that had been retained in as much to be frozen. To the point that I was no longer able to function at an acceptable level. I took my remaining bits of energy and trekked over to the local chemist's to find what R had related to me all that time ago: a Neti Pot. 

I brought back what looked like an awkward and very inexpensive plastic teapot in the most unattractive shade of blue. This nasal irrigation device would soon restore the precious functions of my nose, and be lauded by me upon these pages. 

I rinsed the pot and filled it with lukewarm filtered water, which I retrieved through my Brita and heated up to a tolerably warm state. I added the prescribed saline solution to it and shook it up in my cerulean teapot. I then tilted my head and stuck the spout of the teapot up one nostril, praying gravity would run it's course and bring the liquid back down through my other nostril. One or 2 misgiven tries later, I had finally gotten the hang of it. 

Out poured all manners of offense that had kept me from breathing the way God intended. Two saline packet and 10 minutes later, I had successfully irrigated my nose, and was able to breath again. At this point, looking in the mirror became somewhat agreeable once again as my previously swollen sinuses had returned to their normal state and my nose therefore, seemed smaller. 

Tonight, I retire with satisfaction that I will not be breathing through my mouth like a neanderthal, but rather, through my nose like the civilized sleeper that I aspire to be. 

If any of you gentle people are suffering through the trials and tribulations of this season's nasal congestion, I urge you to seek out this Neti Pot, post haste. It has made me a believer, and I will forever be grateful for the simple ability to breath through my nose. 

To make the relation of this discovery even more relevant, here is an article from the great metropolitan newspaper The New York Times.  From the Fashion and Style section, no less. 

I've only just now found it as I am trying to seek out a photo of a neti pot. It is an ancient oriental tradition-- Indian (like myself) to be specific. They call it a nose bidet. How droll. Read, use and enjoy. Apparently it can lessen under-eye bags as well. I seem to be late to the party, but I guess since I hadn't suffered from an illness in almost one full year, there was no need to seek out such a contraption. Well, read up on it if you are so inclined. 

Gentle Kisses, 

Yours Truly, 

Ess.