Ready, Steady...Neti?

When I moved to Seattle 11 years ago, I developed allergies I’d never had before. Assuming it was because of the constant dampness and moisture in the air, I figured it was moss or mold related; but what I discovered over my first year here was that my allergies were mostly seasonal: I would have an attack in the spring, then again in mid-summer, and finally in the fall. These attacks often came on like bad colds or the flu—I experienced body aches, sore throats, stuffy head and a bad cough. But because they came on during same time every year, I suspected they were allergies (I also never had a fever). Finally, I went to an allergist who ran a whole host of tests on my arm—poking me with samples of grasses, dog and cat dander, mold, oak--the whole shebang. And sure enough, I was allergic to grasses, dog and cat dander and oak—though, surprisingly, not mold.

The allergist told me not to let my dogs sleep in my bedroom (yeah, right!), to wear a mask when mowing the lawn or dusting the house, and he put me on some nasal sprays and told me that I could get away with just using Claritin or Sudafed as needed. He also said that if those things weren’t doing the trick, I could come back in for weekly shots, a thought which, I explained to him, did not interest me in the least. He then suggested I try nasal irrigation, which is something Pa had been doing for years (his allergies are far worse than mine). I explained to him that I had tried that a few times, the way Pa’s allergist had instructed him—a little salt mixed with baking soda in warm water, and using a bulb, snort the stuff up the nose, hold it there and then let it out—but all it did was make me choke and make me swallow lots of salty water, so I stopped, thinking it was a mild form of torture. But my allergist said to try just a simple nasal irrigation using a Neti pot, which is a fancy-looking pot that has a long spout used for stuffing up your schnozz. Armed with some instructions, I went to one of the gazillion naturopathic wellness stores Seattle has to offer and plunked down $15 for a pretty little ceramic Neti pot with a blue glaze. I bought some coarse sea salt from Trader Joes (the salt must be non-processed, non-iodized) and when I got home, I mixed a half a teaspoon with warm water filled to the rim of the Neti pot.

At first, it was a little tricky, but once the water started coming down out of the other nostril, it was easy to just relax. Nasal irrigation can be done using a bulb like the one Pa uses, but I discovered that Neti pots are a lot easier to use because you don’t have to squeeze the water up your nostril, you just pour the water while tilting your head and let gravity force it out the other side. Now I use the Neti pot every day, right after I brush my teeth in the morning, and after two months, I really do notice a difference. Once the cherry blossoms bloomed in my neighborhood a few weeks ago, I hunkered down in preparation for my spring seasonal allergy attack; but so far (knock on wood, but not red oak since that might trigger an allergy attack), nothing has happened except for one sinus headache. And I think—the next time I feel a sinus headache coming on—I might just try using the Neti pot twice a day to see if that’ll alleviate the pressure.

Though nasal irrigation using a Neti pot has been around, like, forever as an Ayurvedic treatment, it’s become popular as more and more medical papers are being published about the subject. Do a Google search on Neti pot or nasal irrigation and you’ll find family medicine websites that provide step-by-step instructions—even a demonstration video. The press has also grabbed hold of this technique—even Oprah’s own Dr. Oz has touted its efficacy.

I’m all for doing things the natural way—especially when I see immediate results, and I don’t have to pop a million horse-sized supplements to make me feel better. I really find that using the Neti pot has worked for me. It’s definitely alleviated any allergy symptoms I usually experience with every change of season. But this is as “gross” as it gets for me, and I assure you that you won’t see me singing the praises of a coffee enema any time soon.