It always happens on long car trips. As the hours pass by, it builds and builds. It dawns on me: I can’t breathe well anymore, but there’s still hours left until we reach our destination. Gotta suffer in silence.
What’s wrong? The stuffy nose from recirculated air is what’s wrong. In planes, trains, automobiles–it’s like John Candy’s Del Griffith, it keeps coming back. Am I the only one who fights this condition? Tissues aren’t up to the challenge. The dry air freezes everything in place and nothing moves along to allow respiration.
Drinking water seems fruitless–no loosening of the blockage, but liquid induces extra bathroom breaks like a toddler in potty training. I’m in a nasal holding pattern.
I’m stuck. The miles roll by; I collect layers of dust samples, an unseen exhibit of my travels. Once I reach home, I’ll find relief. If not from humid house air and some tissues, there’s always a shower. I will inhale with ease again.