Until a couple of weeks ago I considered myself a COVID virgin. I had navigated a full 36 months without a positive test, despite cohabiting with my wife in a 2,500-square-foot house during her bout with the SARS-CoV-2 virus last year. I have been reasonably careful, a situational mask wearer, and good about avoiding poorly ventilated crowded spaces. Of course I was fully vaccinated but was waiting until we had gotten closer to a December trip before getting the newest booster.
Dr. William G. Wilkoff
I had always been quietly smug about my good luck. And, I was pretty sure that luck had been the major contributor to my run of good health. Nonetheless, in my private moments I often wondered if I somehow had inherited or acquired an unusual defense against the virus that had been getting the best of my peers. One rather far-fetched explanation that kept popping out of my subconscious involved my profuse and persistent runny nose.
Like a fair number in my demographic, I have what I have self-diagnosed as vasomotor rhinitis. In the cooler months and particularly when I am active outdoors, my nose runs like a faucet. I half-jokingly told my wife after a particularly drippy bike ride on a frigid November afternoon that even the most robust virus couldn’t possibly have survived the swim upstream against torrent of mucus splashing onto the handlebars of my bike.
A recent study published in the journal Cell suggests that my off-the-wall explanation for my COVID resistance wasn’t quite so hair-brained. The investigators haven’t found that septuagenarian adults with high-volume runny noses are drowning the SARS-Co- 2 virus before it can do any damage. However, the researchers did discover that, This first line of defense seems to be more effective than in adults, where the virus can more easily slip through into the bloodstream, sometimes with a dramatic release of circulating cytokines, which occasionally create problems of their own. Children also release cytokines, but this is predominantly in their nose, where it appears to be less damaging. Interestingly, in children this initial response persists for around 300 days while in adults the immune response experiences a much more rapid decline. I guess this means we have to chalk one more up for snotty nose kids.
However, the results of this study also suggest that we should be giving more attention to the development of nasal vaccines. I recall that nearly 3 years ago, at the beginning of the pandemic, scientists using a ferret model had developed an effective nasal vaccine. I’m not sure why this faded out of the picture, but it feels like it’s time to turn the spotlight on this line of research again.
I suspect that in addition to being more effective, a nasal vaccine may gain more support among the antivaxxer population, many of whom I suspect are really needle phobics hiding behind a smoke screen of anti-science double talk.
At any rate, I will continue to search for articles that support my contention that my high-flow rhinorrhea is protecting me. I have always been told that a cold nose was the sign of a healthy dog. I’m just trying to prove that the same is true for us old guys with clear runny noses.
Dr. Wilkoff practiced primary care pediatrics in Brunswick, Maine, for nearly 40 years. He has authored several books on behavioral pediatrics, including “How to Say No to Your Toddler.” Other than a Littman stethoscope he accepted as a first-year medical student in 1966, Dr. Wilkoff reports having nothing to disclose. Email him at pdnews@mdedge.com.