What’s going on in your nose?
Regardless of age or level of education, sometimes we think we know things only to find out we were wrong or knew only a fraction of the facts. That’s what happened last week when I discovered details about the human nose that blew my mind (and my nose). Since we’re at the beginning of cold and flu season, I’ll share a story that your nose knows, which perhaps you don’t.
I owe this revelation to a writer named Sarah Zhang, who wrote an article for The Atlantic about a year ago titled “Everything I Thought I Knew About Nasal Congestion Is Wrong.” I was skeptical when I saw the headline because I didn’t think there was much to know about congestion. Your nose is stuffy. You blow it. End of story.
But according to Sarah’s article and the experts she interviewed, the nose is so much more complex than that. When I noticed that the subtitle of her article was “You really have two noses,” I knew I needed to sniff out the truth.
I’ve been a nose owner for five decades, so I assumed I knew how this thing works. And even though I’m not great at math, I was convinced I had precisely one nose. But that’s because I was foolishly judging my nose by its cover. It might look singular, but those two nostrils are the entry points for completely separate structures.
You know that tiny piece of the nose located between your nostrils? Think of it like a wall separating two hallways that lead to side-by-side rooms. For various reasons ranging from genetics to injury, sometimes the wall is crooked or curved, and that’s okay because, usually, it’s harmless. But sometimes the crooked wall partially blocks one of the passageways. That crooked wall is called a “deviated septum.”
Regardless of whether the wall is straight or not, those separate passageways are like twins who look alike but work different schedules. At any given time, one half of your nose is more open than the other half. Most of us don’t notice it, but those nasal twins are trading off on handling the work. The “dominant nostril” switches sides every couple of hours in what doctors call the “nasal cycle.” (When we’re sick and hosting gobs of mucus, we can more easily feel which nose twin is open for business and which one is currently a dead end.)
Why do our nose twins operate on this back-and-forth schedule? No one is exactly sure, except for God, who probably has a good reason. Maybe they trade off because the nose has to work around the clock while the other facial organs get to relax. The eyes mostly shut down during sleep, and the mouth often goes slack. But the nose keeps breathing in and out, filtering air, and detecting smells.
Your nose twins are like two bouncers standing in front of a busy nightclub. Sometimes they get irritated because they’re dealing with everything trying to get into the club, including dirt, allergens, and viruses. Most of the time, the bouncers kick them out with a sneeze. But occasionally, a troublemaker slips through and inflames the linings inside our twin noses.
When those linings get angry, they swell up like the Incredible Hulk. The more they swell, the more congested we feel. Blowing the nose helps get the extra gunk out, which is great, but it won’t help with swelling. That’s why decongestants are designed to temporarily reduce swelling inside the nose.
But suppose all the swelling and mucus back up into the sinuses (which are usually pockets filled with air). In that case, you may feel like a solid brick of gunk has formed behind your face, causing pain and (in my experience) chronic crankiness.
We’re at the time of year when ragweed gets rowdy and Covid cranks up, so it’s important to know what’s happening right under your eyes. Your nose twins are partnering in an intricate dance to help you breathe, and breathing – according to 100 percent of doctors – is good. It’s as plain as the nose on your face.
Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her book is available on Amazon.
