Member-only story
Tissues Are My New Best Friend
Now I’m never without one.
My nose is like that annoying faucet you can’t quite shut off.
A constant flow of clear fluid finds its way down the nasal passage, threatening to drip onto my upper lip. If I don’t dab it, I’m left to resort to my sleeve. Sometimes a sniffle will hold it off, only to trickle down the ramp again. All. The. Time.
I keep boxes of tissues throughout the house: kitchen, office, bedroom, den, and bathroom. Any place where I might spend ten consecutive minutes. Packets of tissues for on-the-go use.
Crumpled clumps of slightly damp tissues are scattered around my house, packet book, and car. They don’t look hygienic, but I don’t think they are a contagion.
The old, like the young, seem to have perennially runny noses. At 76, my tissue use has come full circle. Now, I don’t leave home without them. Let her run.
