Brain Drain: Sombre Psyche Soup

I awoke early in the morning, before 6am with an appetite and stuffy nose. I had a cold (lingering at present). My breathing was more obstructed than usual. I knew that I should saline-wash my nasal passage to increase my ability to take in air more freely.

Predictably, I thought of a gastronomic solution: chicken soup. I had since grown tired of such a soup: more accurately, an awareness causing a sleepish attitude towards fowl and fish. I figured a substitute for the meat product.

Wrapped tighter than a pig in a blanket, I wandered into the kitchen cocooned in my feather comforter, grabbed some ground beef, coriander leafs (which I minced), and some frozen ginger root (which I grated). Shedding my cocoon blanket, I rolled some herbal meatballs, then pan-fried/sauteed them. I boiled some veggie noodles in sea-salted filtered water. The meatballs were added to the swimming noodles. The pan juices were sieved into the pot, turning the filtered water into a broth. A lid was placed on the pot, leaving the noodles and meatballs to soak, tepidly steep.

Uncooked Meatballs: ground beef, coriander, grated ginger

My nose was clogged (as is now), requiring a saline solution. From my experience recuperating from pituitary gland surgery, I knew that I had to irrigate my skull through the nose, melting viscous mucous, which retains potential bacteria pestilence. Cleaning the cranium, draining the brain, a gross-out from an unlikely spigot, I gathered my tools: a bulb syringe, boiled salt water (at room temperature).

Ed's stuffy nose

I tilted my head back and slowly squeezed the bulb, releasing the solution into my right nasal passage. I tiled my head to the right. The fluid entered the ear canal, softening the snot that began to trickle from my nose once I leaned forward and adjusted my face over the sink basin. I pressed down on the left nostril with my index finger, and gently blew air out of the right nostril. A clearing of the throat, a subtle hock of a loogie. The ptui process was repeated for the left nostril, then again in tandem--enough until fluid easily dripped from the nose when I stood and stared into the medicine cabinet mirror breathing easily.

By now, the soup needed to be reheated before serving. Piping delicious proved my palate: the ginger and coriander, the noodles, the broth, the mushy meatballs made me full-bodied. My belly, from the saline solution and from the soup, was ostensibly bloated.

Sombre Psyche Soup