Tomato Soup

I cannot go an hour without my nasal spray.
Those of you who know me or have spent time around me won't have a hard time recalling a time when you saw me snort out of the little white bottle to relieve closed off nostrils.
I would like to relate a funny little story about how bad my dependence is on this ridiculous substance, and most of all how much I love my dear wife.

2 nights ago I went into my bed, so tired I could not think, and began my journey into sleep.
Not 5 minutes after I hit the pillow I realized that I needed to take a shot of my nasal spray so I could sleep through the night.
I always place a bottle of "death" directly on my night stand so in the darkness of the night I can reach out and find it with no additional movement to my body.
It's a skill that I acquired at a very young age.
In fact I could probably rob your home in the night with only my right hand.
You might find me limp and sprawled on your bedroom floor..... my hand ripping off all your valuables like a racoon.
Anyhow, as soon as I reached for the bottle a horrible unsettling feeling came upon me.
I realized in that instant that I had left my only bottle of nasal spray at my parents house during a brief visit earlier that day.
I knew exactly where it was, on the floor in the upper bedroom.
If I had been any more out of my mind with anxiety I would have actually tried to summon the bottle through space and time and drop in into my outstretched hand and then slow dance with it to that Brian Adams song "Feels like the first time together"
There would be no sleep this night.
I knew that this was my only bottle and there was no more in my entire house.
I came to the instant conclusion that I would rip the house apart in search of a hidden one to quench my dependence.

I rose out of bed and ran to my closet, reaching in for and searching through the jeans I had worn that day.
I thought of the possibility of my mind being full of a load of hot crap and that my nasal spray would be found in my right hand pocket of those jeans, but alas, my initial premonition was right. The bottle was gone and I wasn't getting it back until morning.

Then I started to panic, although my nasal passages were at 50% I knew that soon, within the hour, I would be completely clogged up and no breathing would occur out of said nostrils until the drug was delivered.
It was a race against the clock.
I immediately decided to let me wife in on my dilemma, and bless her heart, cause she's heard it all before (3 or more times a week) she kept her witts, and our conversation, similar to all the other lost nasal spray nights, began.

"Boone, where is the last place you had it"?
"It's at mom and dad's, and it's the only bottle I have"
"Are you sure honey"?
"YES I AM SURE"!!
"Do you think I would have another bottle around here and not know where it was"?
"Have you looked everywhere"?

At his time Nostril A is at roughly 25% functionality and nostril B is at about 45% and my anxiety is climbing, preparing for a sonic boom that I am almost sure will wake the neighbors.

"Christina I have looked everywhere I can possibly think to look"
"Okay honey"

It is at this time that I have a twilight moment and realize that If I cannot use nasal spray I will find something else to shoot up my nose, maybe to help the ever swelling membranes in my nasal cavity to subside.
I had heard that saline nasal sprays help the dry nose and for some reason I could not get this out of my mind. I am instantly dead set on shooting a salt solution up my nose.
I even decide to mix it up myself to get the most powerful effect possible.

I dump half the bottle of table salt in a small cup and pour a small (I'm talking small) amount of warm water in with the salt to dilute it.
I mix it up and prepare for war.
I realize I have no way to shoot it into my nose, so I look in the medicine cabinet for a delivery system.
Ah ha..... I find a medicine dropper, probably my daughters, (she won't need it anymore) and I fill it up with the salt mixture.

In some sort of distorted anxiety ridden way I picture the salt water washing over the swollen membranes and shaking their hands like a friendly politician.
I know in my heart of hearts this will work....It has to
And so I snort....... and the pain I feel in the back of my nose is like being struck by lightning.
Although I have never been struck by lightning I now know this is exactly how it feels and I want no part of it.........EVER.
My eyes are boiling and watering and I am dancing around like a gut shot Indian.
All this while my wife calmly checks her myspace page.
I realize I must look like an excited child, preparing to hit a pinata, or a bear that has just been stung by a swarm of bees and kicked by a horse at the same time.
The pain actually lasted for a good 3 minutes straight.
If that wasn't bad enough I thought that the pain, in some way, might be clearing up my nostrils, so I refilled the dropper for my other nostril.

The pain was the same and the dance was the same and the muffled words expressing my agony were even stronger, only this time I noticed the pain eating and tearing at the back of my throat. I can only compare it to no pain I have ever had before, and that's not even a good comparison.
I instantly had the sorest throat in the history of sore throats.
I decided to go lie in my bed and let the salt water do it's trick....Only it did just the opposite.
It was closing off my nostrils completely.
Nostril A report!!!
1% sir
Nostril B report!!!
There is no report from nostril B. I have lost him completely.

I am now at the point of congestion that I like to call total closure.
This is not like the total closure one gets in life from facing the cold blooded killer of their family, this is worse.
I cannot breathe through my nose at all. I have to breathe through my mouth and make my already raw throat worse.
What a predicament I am in.

Then out of the blue Christina comes into our room to go to bed.
I am snorting and tossing and turning and spitting and I'm sure I am swearing because anxiety attacks turn me into a vulgar gutter trout mouth.
But she is quiet and patient.
It is now 1:15 in the morning and my dear wife, with all the compassion and love she holds in her heart for me, heads out to the garage to look for nasal spray.
In the mean time I am getting dressed to drive to Idaho Falls.
I know wal mart stays open all night and I plan to hit it and refill my stash.
An hour drive at 2:00 in the morning is nothing!!
My mind is not on just one bottle. I will purchase at least 20 bottles because I never want this to happen again.
I imagine what the worker at check out will think when I throw 19 bottles of nasal spray down and rip the 20th one open and snort it right in front of her tired eyes.
Justice is only an our away.

I am sitting up in bed and I hear the back door open, and the lights turn off one by one.
I think I hear a bottle of nasal spray shake in the darkness.
In comes my beautiful wife and in her hand a 3 year old bottle of nasal spray.
She has never looked more beautiful to me.
Her efforts of digging and prodding around in the boxes in the garage in the middle of the night have paid off.
I instantly snort 3 shots in each nostril and wait for the pleasant effects to wash over my body.
And then I breathe. Fresh and deep.
I kiss my wife and tell her that she always comes through for me. And she does.
And I am the luckiest man in the world.