Fifth in a series of random posts on things that might be of use to others, with the usual disclaimers that nothing works for everybody.

A friend recently clued me in to the existence of Covixyl, a nasal spray that — as the name suggests — was developed in response to the covid pandemic, but which actually has much broader use. Rather than being a vaccine, it physically binds to the cells in your nasal passages, making them inhospitable to respiratory viruses. Two sprays up each nostril give you up to six hours of protection.

Studies on its effectiveness are still few in number, but they are distinctly encouraging. Even if it’s only a 60% reduction in risk of respiratory infection (which is the number I saw somewhere; can’t find where now), that’s still a lot less risk. About the only downside I know of is that the first ten to twenty seconds after you use it are uhhhh kind of literally eye-watering — this stuff does sting a bit! But it’s fairly affordable: $19 for one bottle, which they estimate will last you a month, or you can get it cheaper if you buy three ($54) or six ($100) bottles at a time.

I’m about to go on vacation, and I’m absolutely bringing this stuff with me. I’ll still be masking in high-risk situations like crowds, but having this as a second line of defense will make me feel a lot more sanguine about being able to enjoy the trip.

Fourth in a series of random posts on things that might be of use to others, with the usual disclaimers that nothing works for everybody.

A few months ago I got a smartwatch, and one of the things it measures is “stress.” Mine, uh. Thinks I’m basically about to explode at all times?

And this isn’t just “okay, yes, I’m under stress.” So is my husband — if anything, more stress than me — and he has the same brand of smartwatch, but it thinks he’s much more chill. So naturally, I wondered what the watch is using as the basis of its evaluation.

Turns out the answer is heart rate variability — which, yes, does appear to be robustly correlated with matters like anxiety and PTSD, along with physical fitness; more fit = better HRV. I do get exercise, and I am not that badly off with anxiety and such, so why is my stress rating so high?

I think I found the answer when I went looking for what can improve HRV. (It doesn’t just reflect your state of mind; there’s evidence that influencing HRV directly can in turn affect how you feel.) One of the most promising answers, where “promising” translates to “something I can try myself at home,” is diaphragmatic breathing, aka belly breathing. When we’re stressed, we tend to tighten our abdomens and breathe more in the upper chest; when we’re relaxed, we breath more from the stomach. Because our brains are gullible chemical sponges, it goes the other way, too: if you deliberately breathe from the diaphragm, you can reduce your feelings of stress, whereas if you breathe from your upper chest, you’ll increase feelings of tension and anxiety.

That much, I already knew. I’d never made a concerted attempt to use that knowledge, though, so I downloaded an app that’s designed for breathing exercises and set it to the timing mentioned in one HRV study, a ten-second in-out cycle, and tried doing that for five or ten minutes. Lo and behold, I can see the stress rating dropping in my smartwatch’s data. Okay, so, yes, this can improve my HRV and thereby reduce the stress metric.

But here’s the real kicker: doing that made me start to notice how I’m breathing throughout my day.

And the answer is, really, really astonishingly badly. It turns out that when I’m focused on something else, I tend to begin breathing very shallowly, and maybe even hold my breath? In small doses that’s fine — quite natural — but if I’m doing that on a regular basis, uh, I think I may know why my smartwatch thinks I’m about to explode. So now my project is to check in with myself periodically and notice if I’ve fallen into that pattern. Over time, I think I can retrain myself to breathe better as a matter of habit. If I’m right, I’ll probably see it reflected in my watch’s data.

But I may — should — also see it reflected in my life. I don’t think I’m super stressed on a psychological level . . . but that’s the kind of thing you quite possibly don’t notice until it’s gone.

Third in a series of random posts on things that might be of use to others, with the usual disclaimers that nothing works for everybody.

I don’t remember where I got linked to this, but the Guardian has a ~5 installment series of weekly emails about how to “reclaim your brain,” i.e. dial back the amount of time you’re spending each day on your phone. The tilde is there because you get an introductory email at the outset and a week six bonus, so it’s actually seven emails all told — and they do sign you up for a couple of other things once that ends, which isn’t entirely great, but on the other hand the stuff you get signed up for is e.g. “Well Actually,” which is a fairly positive-oriented newsletter about health and wellness, so it could be worse. Still and all, you might have to unsubscribe from things after “Reclaim Your Brain” ends, if you’re not interested in other emails.

In general, the series gives you instructions on how to figure out the average amount of time you use your phone each day and take a good look at how that time is being spent — obviously there’s a difference between three hours spent doom-scrolling social media and three hours spent immersed in a great ebook. Then they walk you through techniques to help you break the negative habits you have around usage. All of this more top-level advice is paired with personalized accounts from a guy who realized he’d become extremely unhealthy in his relationship with his phone and social media, so you get both the analytical and emotional sides of the tale.

I, uh. Still need to sit down and implement some of their advice? My issue with my phone isn’t actually social media, it’s games like solitaire, but it’s still true that I’m not happy with how much time I wind up unthinkingly spending on things of that type, rather than something I would find more rewarding. Especially since I have a strong tendency to reach for them in any idle moment, e.g. standing in line at a store, and it’s entirely possible that downtime of that sort is a vital component of my work: if I’m poking at a game on my phone, I’m more likely not noodling with a story in the back of my head. Over time, that’s going to add up to a problem, since “let yourself be bored” is quite possibly a key element in creativity.

But even though I’m not yet a success story for the Guardian’s series, I do recommend “Reclaim Your Brain” to anybody who would like to reduce their phone usage. You can always be like me and save the emails for later . . .