Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Love and Neti Pots

For the past four days, I've been sick. I'm talking sore throat, fever and sinus pressure that is so bad that when I lean forward, I feel like my head is so heavy it is going to be torn from my shoulders. And everybody knows that I am not a pleasure to deal with when I'm sick (think poking a rattlesnake with a stick and you might see what my family has to endure). After the sinus pressure got so bad that I could literally feel the snot moving through my head, I figured it was time to resort to drastic measures.

I am a sample junky and a while back I requested a free Neti Pot sample. For those of you that are not familiar, it's the little plastic pot that you fill with warm salt water and use to cleanse your sinuses (by cleanse, I mean jam up your nose, tilt your head and let gravity do it's thing). I didn't actually want to use the stupid thing, I just wanted to feel the rush that I get from getting something for free. Well, my magical little Neti Pot has been sitting on a shelf since I got it because I am deathly afraid of sticking anything up my nose due to a traumatic incident with a piece of corn during my childhood. That and I watched an episode of Cougar Town that involved Bobby Cobb and a Neti Pot. Not something I wanted to experience.

Last night after the decongestants and Thera-Flu stopped working, I decided to give the little snot pot a shot. I pulled it off the shelf, blew off the dust and stared at it with all kinds of second thoughts running through my head. So I did the only thing I could think of to get me through this.

"Honey..."

Yes, I called for my husband to come and hold my hand. Or my hair since this could get messy. He sidled into the bathroom and gave me "the look" that he reserves for me when I'm talking about my Sims like they are people.

"The Neti Pot? I thought you were afraid that you would drown if you used that thing." He's so sensitive to my phobias.

I explained that I thought this was a life or death situation so I would take my chances on drowning instead of suffocating from all of the mucus that was overtaking my ability to breathe. He raised his eyebrow and asked what I needed him to do.

"Just perform CPR if I need it."

"Eww, not if you have snot water dripping out of your nose."

But as I was standing there with a tea pot stuck up one nostril and water running out the other one, I couldn't help but think about how much this man loves me. It has got to be love if he actually stood there and watched me do something like this without faking a stomachache or a really bad gout flare up. I would have swooned if I wasn't worried that I would choke.

This man puts up with a lot from me. He never (okay, rarely) complains when I watch Parking Wars for hours on end or decide to take up an entire drawer in our tiny kitchen because I want to start recycling Capri Sun pouches (which also get very sticky after sitting in said drawer for a month when I forget about them). He deals with my tendency to forget to do things that he asks me to do (like laundry and cleaning the toilet) and he rubs my feet after I've had a hard day of forgetting to do this stuff. He's great but he knows how to return the favor in the form of coffee cans, jars and other unnecessary items that he hoards and believes he will have a use for someday.

Oh, and flatulence.

As the Neti Pot ran empty, I realized that my heart is full of love for this man that has figured out how to deal with me. Most of the time that involves having all the tact of a sledgehammer, the tenacity of a wolverine and lots (and lots) of sarcasm. Wrap that up in a package that ain't too hard on the eyes and you have my husband. Be still my heart.

It made me thankful as we headed to bed that I had this man in my life. I guess you know it's love when he doesn't bat an eye at you as you cover your pillow with a towel to catch the mucus that is still draining from your nose an hour after you cleansed your sinuses. I snuggled up to him, careful not to drip, and gave him a kiss goodnight. And then he repaid me.

"Sorry," he said, "I hope that doesn't stink."

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