Ireckon the most excruciating story in this week’s media was about the backpacker who returned home to Edinburgh and eventually discovered that she had a leech living up her nose.
It sounds like something from a sci-fi novel.
Apparently experts suggested that the unfortunate woman had been infiltrated by the leech either when swimming or drinking water while on holiday in Vietnam.
Luckily, it was probably very small when it made its new home in her nose, before it sucked on copious amounts of her blood and grew to fit her nasal passages. Yuck.
She’d seen it a couple of times but assumed that the mass was congealed blood as she’d had a few nosebleeds – unsurprisingly with a leech living in her cavities.
The worse part of it? The doctors had to hold her down while they removed it because it was so uncomfortable – it was clinging on for dear life.
Once, a long time ago, I laughed while eating chilli con carne. A piece of mince lodged at the top of my nose and for all the blowing and wheezing and puffing, I couldn’t get rid of it.
There it sat, itching and grossing me out for too long.
So I can sympathise with the leech woman – maybe that’s why the story’s affecting me so much.
We’ve all heard the stories of children shoving miscellaneous items up their noses – usually gross but a little bit funny in that ‘aren’t children mischievous?’ kind of way.
But a leech, crawling in there, taking up residence?
I keep thinking about all the slugs in my garden, feeling a little chilly now that winter’s come, wanting somewhere warm and cosy to spend their days.
Or spiders, bored with being scooped up and thrown out of the window, deciding to nest somewhere they can’t easily be removed.
I’ve got a large nose too – flaring nostrils – providing wonderful grounds for a little creature looking for safety.
Maybe that’s why my husband snores so much. Has he already got something living tucked away in his nose?