Sleep Stymied By Stuffed Nostrils?

Why does this always happen to you?

(You’d think you could just shove a Q-tip in and be done with it… but you can’t…)

You’re breathing just fine, like a normally functioning human being all day long. Both nose holes are ferrying air to your lungs with elegant ease. Then, night comes. No allergies in sight. No dust in your freshly polished slumber chambers. The thermostat is set to a perfect, cool temp. Yet, here we are, Susan: snooze free and snorting like a dying, porcine beast – trying in vain to suck air through your jaw like a common knuckle dragging troglodyte. You look at the wall to observe all of those framed degrees you earned. You think of that coveted job position you perform by day. That esteemed status you’ve labored to achieve. And now this. You’re reduced to a common nocturnal mouth breather every evening, like some disgusting respiratory werewolf. Why in the world does this happen every time we try to finally have sweet relief from consciousness?

Apparently, many of us suffer this Gandalf nostril syndrome.

One nostril stabs its metaphorical staff in the earth.

Why? Well, the first possibility is that you do have light allergies but just don’t notice it during the day. Just because you’re not constantly sneezing, doesn’t mean they aren’t there. In fact, up to 30% of adults deal with allergies through the year. The second possibility? The common cold. Everyone’s so worked up about covid right now, that they’ve forgotten the classic, ever present, basic bish cold that comes every year. Not as sexy, but still a thing. And, for either of these conditions, something unwonderful happens to you each attempted sleep, as you perch on your charging port and try to power off. Gravity. Because we’re laying down, more blood makes it’s way to our nose and noggin alike, causing further inflammation in our nasal oxygen tubes. Awesome, right? Even better, because we’re laying down, there’s no way to clear those secretions. Sure, it feels like a wad of booger is to blame for holding up the respiratory works. But, really, it’s just that you’re upper nose is too swollen and angry to accept any air.

And the third reason? Septum deviation.

Why? Maybe you’re a boxer like Rocky. Maybe you were born this way like Gaga. Or maybe you caught a football to the face like Brady. (Marcia, not Tom. Although maybe that happened; I don’t watch sports….) However you got it, you don’t care. All that matters is that it’s making your nights miserable. (Unless you get more girls in your sleep quarters ‘cause you look like Owen Wilson.) Why? Because the septum is made of cartilage. The cartilage separates the nostrils. When this goes off kilter, you may notice that your left, right, or even both blowholes are asleep on the job when you’re trying to sleep yourself. Switching sides might help, but maybe you’re trying to supine snooze to avoid pillow wrinkles or whatever. And you deserve that option, right? So what’s the fix?

There are plenty. And people tend to subscribe to different approaches depending on whatever their specific issue is. Some recommend those nasal strips that you pop on at night. Another option? Pot. No, not that kind of pot. I mean the Netti (Netty? Neato? Newton?) pot. Apparently this is a nice and natural way to clear your sinuses pre-sleep. Other folks, contrarily, will get desperate and use that four-way spray that you stick up your face and squirt. (But this kind of defeats the purpose because it has epinephrine in it which will wake you up. Also, even if you’re using it during the day to breathe better, your body starts to get dependent on it.) Then, if putting anything on or around your nose kind of weirds you out, just combat gravity – the one causing a lot of these problems in the first place. Adding a pillow or two let’s the rouge deluge of blood fall back down where it belongs, leaving you to breathe and sleep in peace again.

Most these tips have been awesome and helpful for me. However, as someone who suffers with neck pain, a cavalcade of cushions under my head puts my cervical spine at a wonky angle, making my neck health and sleep alike equally elusive. And my guess is that you’re just as physiologically unique with your own set of problems, too. So, as ever, check in with your doc before starting any kind of medicated regimen. And check in with your PT about the best approach to supporting your head each eve.

Because we all deserve to have our pipes cleared in bed…

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