Neti Pot Adventures: Holistic Health in a Modern Household

While I try to be health conscious, I wouldn't describe my house as 'green' or all-natural. You won't find partially hydrogenated oils or high-fructose corn syrup in my cupboards, but there's plenty of Tylenol and refined white sugar to go around. There has always been a plethora of cold medicines, allergy medicines, and headache medicines in the cabinet because of my youngest son. He can't breathe.

In ten years of life, I can count on one hand the number of whole breaths this child has taken. Every one of them happened while he was in the hospital after an asthma attack and three-day admission period; one step outside into New Orleans' humid, pollen-infested air and he'd clog up again. Breathing has been a little better for him since we moved to South Florida. His asthma attacks have almost stopped and his wheezing, once as regular as the changing of the seasons and as deep as the mighty Mississippi, has gone away. The congestion remains though, and nothing makes it any better: not Mucinex, not Zyrtec, not Benadryl, not Claritin, not nothin'.

He dutifully takes his Zyrtec every morning; occasional Mucinex Melts when necessary; Albuterol through a nebulizer every once in a while. He's active: he loves playing soccer, even though he can't run more than a few steps at a time; he loves dancing, even though he has no real stamina; he loves his scooter, even though he can't keep up with his friends. I decided I had to find something, somewhere, that would help my child breathe once and for all. I decided to get a Neti pot.

A Neti pot looks like a small teapot without a lid. You mix a solution of warm water and salt, tilt your head over a sink, pour water into one nostril and relax while the water washes out the open spaces in your face and flows out the other nostril. "Isn't that a torture device, sort of like waterboarding?" my older son asked. "Pretty much, yes," I answered. My younger son did not care-he wanted oxygen so badly he would try anything. This was the only thing left for us to try. Like millions of other American children, mine have no health insurance; we had already tried every over-the-counter option there is, and going to a doctor or specialist was simply not an option.

DAY ONE

I measured ¼ teaspoon table salt into the plastic "travel" Neti pot I purchased at a local drugstore for twelve dollars. I added one cup of warm ("NOT hot or cold!" according to the directions) and stirred. My ten-year-old leaned his head over the bathroom sink and I gently tilted the pot's spout into his nose. Nothing happened. From what I had read, I expected globs of mucus and god-only-knows-what-else to flow into my sink, which I would then have to bleach repeatedly. Nothing happened. He was able to blow his nose, which was somewhat exciting for him as he usually can't, but that was all. We tried the other nostril with similar results: nothing happened. We decided to keep trying.

DAY TWO

Day two followed day one and yielded the same experience. He said it felt weird, but it didn't hurt at all. After reading more about Neti pots on the internet and finding that the only common side effect was a dry nose from overuse, we decided to try the pot twice a day.

DAY THREE

"It's almost there! I could feel the water almost pass over! You stopped too soon," my son told me. By day three, he was looking forward to his Neti pot treatments and didn't seem at all bothered by them. In fact, when he could feel the water moving through his nasal cavities and knew it would soon successfully flow out the other side, he was thrilled. Also, I noticed that at night I couldn't hear him breathe across the house-a new experience!

DAY FOUR

Success! Water flowed in one nostril and out the other. "I can breathe!" he shouted. We were both very happy, to say the least. His older brother wants nothing to do with the whole experience, but I told a friend about it and she's trying a Neti pot of her own. With no side effects to worry about and clear signs of success, this Neti pot adventure will continue in our house for years to come.