Daddy's Nose

I've inherited my father's nose. It looks exactly like his, and while I appreciate the tangible proof that I'm not adopted, sometimes, it's a source of grief. Namely when I get the also-inherited sinus infections that run in my dad's side of the family. They typically plague me about twice a year, though this year's bout with the curse of the sinus infection has led to a few interesting discoveries.

First of all, I'm a total lightweight when it comes to NyQuil. As my friends can attest, I was definitely a little loopy last night after taking some in an effort to make it so that I could breathe again. It knocked me out cold for about half an hour, and then once I regained consciousness, I was fuzzy-brained for way too long. Therefore, I hereby disclaim any responsibility for any idiotic thing I might have said. I was not fully functional.

Secondly, breathing is SO underrated! And people -- namely me -- get cranky when they can't get their normal allotment of air in each breath. So I also apologize for any snide or snippy comments that may have come from me in the last 24 hours.

Third, priesthood blessings are amazing! I asked for one last night because the NyQuil failed me (aside from the loopiness, it did nothing to alleviate my sinus infection), and the herbal tea that my mom swears by didn't do anything either. Fortunately, I love living in Provo, where worthy, honorable young men are often sitting in my front room, and so I got a blessing that promised that it would be much easier to deal with my sinus infection by morning, and that was certainly the case.

Fourth, I will probably be getting surgery this summer. Turns out my family's insurance will most likely cover the operation, and it's probably easier in the long run to get this taken care of before the marriage and family thing when I have other people to take care of. And hopefully it'll mean that my sinus infections will be less problematic in the future.

All in all, it's been another fun adventure with sinus infections. I'm actually looking forward to the surgery in the hopes that I will be able to breathe like other people afterwards. Sort of how, when you get glasses you realize that you can again see how the rest of the world sees. A similar idea, except with breathing, which, in my humble opinion, is kind of a big deal. Here's hoping I'm fully functional by tomorrow so that I can keep up with the demands of my crazy life.

There's so much else to tell, but I don't have the time to tell it right now, so maybe next time. Until then, I'm off to sleep (on my right side only, since I can't breathe if I sleep on my left side, apparently).