Ask not for whom the nose honks, it honks for thee
Yes, it's eight days before someone goes spelunking up my nose with a big pointy knife. General anaesthetic, hack, hack, hack, machine that goes 'ping!', and all that kind of thing. I know people who've had one of the four procedures I'm going in for next Tuesday -- the one where they stick a hand blender into your sinuses -- and the thing I remember most about their account of the whole proceedings was the 'flags of all nations' magic trick the surgeon performs the day after the op. This is where they remove all the padding gauze they've stuffed up your hooter to stop you bleeding out and getting the hospital bed all dirty. Apparently it feels like your brain is walking out through your nose.
When I was in seeing Mr Hussain, Otolaryngologist to the stars, he gave me a thing of 'Stérimar' to take away with me. This is to prepare my nasal passages for the ordeal to come. It's a 'Sea Water Nasal Spray':
"A pure sea water spray that gently mosturises and cleanses nasal passages, to help natural healthy breathing. STÉRIMAR ® can be used as often as required…"
As often as required? Eh? This may come as a surprise to most people, but I've never really felt the burning need to squoosh half a pint of seawater up each nostril. I feel dirty for saying so, but there it is. Not something that's ever crossed my mind. Hmm, nothing on the telly tonight, I think I'll try to inhale half the Atlantic Ocean.
I love the website, obviously suffering from translation-itis, which lists amongst the spray's special features, "An exclusive anatomically shaped and self-blocking nozzle." Well, that's all right then. Here was me thinking I'd have to block it myself.
And no -- you can't ask how the writing's going.