Welcome to the jungle

It's been getting a little steamy in the bedroom lately. And by steamy, I mean moist. And by moist, I mean damp.

Let me explain.

As you'll recall, I've posted lately about my nasal woes and my trips to my ear/nose/throat doctor to remedy them.

One of the directions I was given after he cauterized my nose - besides stop whining - was to keep it moist with saline sprays and antibacterial gels so it would heal properly. He also wanted me to use the device you see here while I'm sleeping.

It's the Family Care Humidifier. It's job is to turn the bedroom into a rain forest.

Simply fill up the tank, flip the switch and in no time a fine mist of warm steam is rising up to the ceiling, eventually making the room twenty degrees warmer than the rest of the house.

Sure, it's good for my nose, but bad for the t-shirts I sleep in (Yes Rich Siegel, they're black). I wake up drenched in sweat, as if I'd been doing an extreme workout. Now that I think about it, for me sweating is an extreme workout.

Anyway, the wife doesn't care much for the tropical climate of the bedroom these days, so she's camping out someplace cooler until my schnozola heals. It's either the living room or an oceanfront suite at Shutters. I'm sound asleep, so I really won't know which until I get the VISA bill.

I think at this point I've said all I want to say about my nose. And I'm certain I've said all you want to hear.

Thanks for putting up with me while I've been venting about all this. I'll make sure my next post doesn't have anything to do with my nose. In other words, it shouldn't be mist.