SPITING MY FACE
SEATTLE, Washington My new health care team spent an hour jamming broken instruments in my ear. "Yes," the nurse practitioner finally concluded. "You're congested."
"And ... you're about to dispense the wonder drug that cures me immediately?"
"Only the tincture of time will do the trick," she smiled.
"I've tinctured five weeks now. I'm done with the tincturing."
"Try waiting then. For variety."
I am desperate to wrap up the P-I scuba story. My lingering cold symptom must exit stage left. Immediately.
And so I am seduced by the neti pot.
"It's a little nose waterfall," a friend explains. "Push the spout up one nostril and let the saltwater dribble out the other."
This experience ranks high on the "Why Not Go to Law School and Get A Real Job?" scale. Right behind eating green ham and slightly ahead of drifts in my décolleté.
But I breathe easy. At last.