It's cold here in Tuvalu. 18 degrees last night. We are pumping heat and burning firewood and wearing layers. Some of us are getting nose-bleeds from all this dry heat (which we are fortunate to be blessed with). Some of us get nose-bleeds year after year, in the winter-time, and some years we do nothing about it and some years we argue over the use of saline nose spray, for example, or special in-nose moisturizer (just saying), or for a humidifier, which we have explored this year.
In in our family history, several humidifiers have been purchased. There was that time when Oldest had a terrible cough and the pediatrician convinced me to buy one and I nearly melted the paint off his walls. When Youngest was an infant I had a beautifully designed humidifier which lasted six months before I became aggravated with its daily care requirements. And K and I have had one in our room...a Bionaire, if I recall correctly. It was the kind of appliance one might see on Apartment Therapy, streamlined and attractive. That one, too, bit the dust. I think it required an expensive cleanser which proved more costly than replacing the unit itself.
Suffice to say, humidifiers have come and gone under my watch and, while I see the merit in them, I am not convinced that there is one available that is reliable and easy to use and maintain (and I've also been known to boil pots of water each day, when I was home all day).
Which brings me to the Humidifier Odyssey Of 2011.
After four consecutive nose hemorrhages, I did a some online research. I also noted that several office-mates had purchased a tiny, personal-sized unit for their offices. That particular model retailed for $40 and used any readily available bottle of water to mist the space. Alas, though silent, the machine only runs for about four hours and, so, would clearly not be useful in our home. I talked to my friends about it over lunch and M told me she had just bought one but that it required weekly cleansing with vinegar and I was immediately put off.
I dashed across the street at lunchtime the next day and surveyed the models. Most of them were well over $100 and, knowing we probably wouldn't keep it forever, I wouldn't spend that much.
I chose a $40 Bionaire which was small and promised ease of use.
I took it home and filled it up and plugged it in. It was somewhat noisy, but WHO AM I? I mean, really, this whole need for humidification is a bit much to begin with and, knowing that I cheaped out, I wondered how much I could rightfully expect in terms of service?
K noted it was "loud" and moved it from the dresser (where sound can reverberate due to the hard surface) onto the rug. We went to bed.
I noticed he got up during the night and assumed he was restless or didn't feel well. When he returned to bed, at about 4am, he shut the machine off.
When we got up in the morning I said:
you shut the humidifier off?
and K said:
yes, it ran out of water and made an even louder noise!
I checked the box. "Runs for a full six hours on one tank of water."
I put it back in the box and brought it back to the store.
Is there anything wrong with the unit? the customer service guy asked me.
No, I said at first,
though it is loud...and it only runs six hours on a tank of water.
Then there is something wrong with it! he said and we laughed.
I looked around for a replacement that would run longer, not be hideous, not cost $200 and be easy to take care of. Nothing.
I went across the street to the drugstore and purchased a Vicks Ultrasonic Cool Mist Humidifier. Still under a hundred bucks, I figured Vicks must know a thing or two as I've been using their Vapo-Rub for thirty years.
I brought it home, I filled the tank, I plugged it in. K came up to our room.
Rommel's tanks were quieter than this! he said. I would have punched him in the nose, but, you know....
We went to bed. We figured we'd see if we could sleep through it.
And we did. Mostly.
Sometime during the night, K decided to dispense with one of his pillows. He tossed it on the floor and (you can see where I'm going with this can't you?) it sort of blocked the mist output thingy on the humidifier.
In the morning, we still felt kind of dry. But K's pillow was as soaked as a sponge. Middle suggested K sleep on it the next night for maximum moisturizing.
This brings us to night three. Cozy and warm in our wonderful little house, we were ready to fill our Vicks and turn in when the phone rang.
Do you have running water? my beloved neighbor asked.
We did not.
A water main break.
Filling the humidifier was the least of our problems, as you can imagine.
Is it possible, I hear you asking, to fill toilet tanks with snow?
