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Full Nest Syndrome

This article first appeared in issue 17, and was written by Marilyn Loy Turner.

"God bless you"

Some people are lovers. Some are fighters. I happen to be a sneezer.

I must be allergic to oxygen because it doesn't take much to set me off.

My husband has sneezed once in 13 years and I've sneezed 13 times in one second! Can you imagine how many "God bless yous" that requires?

I can't just stop with one sneeze. I have to keep it up until every eye in the room is fixed on me and every ear is attuned. I can't sneeze quietly either; I have to sound like Joshua's trumpet.

My poor son thinks I sneezed him out when he was born. He's afraid I'll blow his cap off his head when he goes through graduation line at school this year. I promised to stand in the back of the auditorium-a warning to all late comers.

What is so difficult about being a sneezer is, it always happens when you're in a crowd like at church or an executive meeting. I try to hold it back but I can't. I carry enough Kleenex with me to wrap six mummies and dress 14 babies.

It is especially hard if I'm trying to keep a low profile or trying not to draw attention to myself. That's when the urge to sneeze is worst.

I pray that no one will ever invite me to a State Dinner. Just one glance at the pepper would do me in.

The only consolation I have is at least I'm not a hiccougher. I can imagine that would be even worse. Yet I must admit having a condition like mine is nothing to sneeze at. Oh, there I go again. A-a-a-c-c-c-h-h-h-o-o-o!



This story was posted on 1997-10-31 12:01:01
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