The other night, just as I was drifting off to sleep, I was overcome by a sneezing fit. I wasn’t ill and there was no allergen trigger. It just sort of happened. After the 4th bed-shaking achoo, I knew I had to get up and wait for the spell to pass.
I’ve had these sorts of sneezing fits for years. They can come on any time, any place. And once a fit hits, I have to ride it out. Because of experience, I can usually tell when I’ve just had an ordinary sneeze, versus the first sneeze of a fit. That knowledge serves no useful purpose really, other than to inform me of what lies ahead. Mister can’t stand the fits. I know this because of his exasperated sighing and admonitions to blow my nose. As challenged as he seems by my sneezing fits, you’d think they were happening to him.
The problem is I do blow my nose. And I look up at the ceiling, chanting, “Banana, banana, banana” in hopes of calming whatever is dancing around in my sinus passages. And none of it seems to work. Once those nasal cilia start grooving, I am bound to sneeze. And sneeze. And sneeze…
Not too long ago I was driving when I felt the first sneeze of a fit coming on. I don’t know what possessed me, but I looked at the mileage on my old car and started counting. After covering one mile (at 35 miles per hour), I had sneezed a total of ten times. That’s ten blow-your-socks-off-because-you’re-alone-in-the-car sneezes, y’all. Seriously – I nearly pulled a muscle.
After my sneezing fit took hold the other night, I got up for a few minutes and waited. It didn’t take long, then I stumbled back to bed. I didn’t sneeze again all night. In the end, I had only racked up 5 sneezes. As I slipped into slumber, I smiled to myself and thought, “Amateur.”