To be honest, the old hay fever's been pretty good this year. April? Fine. No tree pollen for me. May? Surprisingly sweet. Sure, I squirted nasal spray most mornings and that, seemed to help. June then? So far so good. At least for the first ten days anyw...
I exploded. Loud, violent, head-shaking sneezes that ricocheted from the walls and rumbled around the valley. Last night, like a fresh thunderstorm had settled over one particular house in one particular street, I found myself turning in circles, bursting into the crook of my elbow, into tissues, and into (sorry about this) my hand.
My face was wet with tears and red with heat; my eyes tired and bloodshot. I felt like a snotty zombie, not quite sure which way to turn or what to do. In the end, I just went to bed.
Now. It's hot. The room is baking from the day, and as you pull back the duvet, you wonder whether you need it. Moreover, as you sneeze your way over to the open window, you wonder whether you need that either. The choice it seems, is to be boiled overnight or to be punched in the face by the grass seed.
I opted to keep the window open. The net curtains blew softly in the summer breeze as I switched the lamp out and climbed into bed.
But my lips were dry and my throat was a cave of sandpaper. So I got up and filled a water bottle. More loud sneezing, followed by some loud guzzling. Followed by one heavy output breath, and one heavy inwward one. Oh and then another sneeze for good measure.
I did get to sleep in the end, but it took a while. Then this morning, I woke up not feeling too bad. There was a gentle breeze from the open window. I got up and sneezed.
I guzzled some more water and then went and immediately stuffed two bits of kitchen roll in each nostril. And that, is how I'm rolling today. I hate hay fever.
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