On the third night, desperate for sleep, he flopped onto his bed, belly-down, and groaned into the pillow. As he turned his head to the side to gasp for air, he noticed something strange. His left nostril, the one facing up , was completely clear. The right nostril, pressed into the pillow, was still clogged.
This was the nasal cycle—a normal, healthy alternation of congestion from one nostril to the other every few hours. But his cold had supercharged it into tyranny.
Nothing happened for ten seconds. Then twenty. He almost gave up.
He called it the “Lazy Man’s Roll.” For the rest of the cold, whenever his nose plugged up, he’d lie flat, tilt his head to one side like a confused dog, and wait ten seconds. It worked nine times out of ten.
He rummaged through his closet and found an old eye mask—the kind you wear on airplanes. He lay on his back, placed the mask over his eyes (for no reason), and then… he simply pretended to be on his side .
And then— pop .