Bleeding Me

Sign #257 that you’re a hopeless nerd: Frequent nosebleeds. As telltale signs go, it ranks right up there with Star Wars figurine collections and a lack of shame whilst attending medieval fairs. Also, using the word “whilst.”

I’ll try to avoid, as much as I can, direct mentions of nosebleeds themselves, since there’s a chance it might make some readers squeamish. Can’t say I blame ‘em – we’re talking about bodily fluid gushing from a face. There’s a reason why, when punched in the sniffer in one of his movies, Sylvester Stallone merely wipes away a trickle with his shirtsleeve and continues mowing down generic henchmen in a Vietnamese jungle. The bullet-and-shrapnel-ravaged bodies of bad guys are perfectly palatable for movie audiences, but a bloody nose? That’s just gross.

My interest in the subject is personal. (Nosebleeds, not Rambo.) I’ve been getting them since I was a child. There was a period in grade school when they were so frequent, my family and I had a whole system down: Handful of tissues, cold towel on the back of the neck, recliner kicked back at a 45-degree angle, California Raisins on the stereo. By the end of “Heartbreak Hotel,” the worst would have passed, and I could continue gluing together my pasta collage with nary but a small wad plugging one nostril. Once the source of an undefinable shame, these episodes became so old-hat that the embarrassment abated, only to be matched years later when I admitted in a column that I like the California Raisins.

Problem is, they never quite went away. I was under the impression they were supposed to. Like crying jags and a preoccupation with baseball cards in bicycle spokes, nosebleeds were supposed to abate by the time my voice started crackling like a cellophane wrapper. They’ve become far less frequent – one or two a year now instead of every other week – but no less random, sneaking up on me with the stealth of a slipper-footed cat burglar.

So why do I still get them? Why does anyone get them? Well, a little research reveals that, for most us, it’s inevitable. According to Medical News Today, most of us will have at least one nosebleed at some point in our lives, and it’s mostly due to the design of our faces: The human nose is rich in blood vessels, and because it’s right in the middle of the face, sometimes things just happen. Sometimes it’s spontaneous, and sometimes the Viet Cong clocks Stallone in the schnoz with an empty rifle. Which explains why he sounds like he simultaneously has a cold and is drowning in a giant vat of syrup.

The primary causes of the spontaneous variety are a little gross, so I’ll spare y’all a full-on descriptive explanation, what with the mucous membranes and all. But Medical News Today says these are more common in children, and I haven’t been a child since I was at least 25.

That leaves a rather alarming list of alternative causes. One of them is liver disease, which can interfere with blood clotting; a deviated septum is another. Having been to the doctor for a checkup recently, I feel I can safely rule these out, as well as dry climate (the New England climate tends to be humid), and “excessive use of illegal drugs, such as cocaine.” As rock-and-roll as it would be to have a life-destroying cocaine addiction, the most dangerous thing I’ve ever put up my nose is decongestant nasal spray.

Then there’s excessive nose-blowing. That I am guilty of, and it stands as the most reasonable explanation. As if there weren’t enough reasons to avoid colds during the winter, I now have to worry about them causing unwanted bleeding from a head cavity.

What I’ve learned, and what I’ll pass on to those of you also prone to nosebleeds, is that if you’re feeling stuffy, ease back on the blowing. Don’t overdo it. Sure, it’s unpleasant, and you’ll dry out your lips and throat breathing through your mouth, but look at the bright side: You’ll sound just like Sylvester Stallone. And won’t that be a boon.