Let's bring Stanhope Syndrome into open

It's not that I want the attention. It's only that I occasionally suffer from a malady that has been in the shadows too long and lacks a name.

I suggest calling it Stanhope Syndrome.

About a month ago, I had a flare-up. If you've had one, you know how difficult it is – both physically and emotionally.

The symptoms, like with many maladies, are simple: In this case, it's the inability to complete a sneeze. It wouldn't be so terrible if that were the only symptom. But the emotional trauma amplifies the pain. And the frustration. In many ways, the social stigma makes it worse.

People look at you funny.

It's the kind of disorder that isn't obvious at first. You have to sneeze, so you prepare and . . . wait . . . wait . . . wait . . . and don't sneeze. Your eyes flutter, your mouth opens, you tilt your head back.

Yet nothing happens.

It's OK if it only happens once, but sometimes it happens twice. And thrice.

I suffer from occasional bouts of Stanhope Syndrome. And I'm unashamed.

During my most recent battle with SS (as we'll be calling it soon), I completed only about 50 percent of a series of about 40 sneezes over a two-week period. But the thing about SS is that you don't realize the problem immediately. It's only when you sit back and think about it – maybe after another bout when you waved your arms, threw back your head and were disappointed – that you realize how often it's been happening.

Once or twice is unfortunate. Several times is a syndrome.

Part of the answer for me – and perhaps for others – is to tell someone about it. When I informed my co-workers (who were shocked at the detail I shared, which I presume was because they were unaware of the seriousness of SS), things got better. I actually completed several sneezes in a row.

SS shame leads us to keep quiet, which only reinforces whatever it is that keeps us from sneezing.

This isn't the first time I've campaigned for a disease to be named after me. Several times, I've suggested that Type 1 diabetes, of which I'm one of the most noted victims, should have my name. But it hasn't worked because, I suspect, Big Pharma already has "Type 1 diabetes" written on all the packaging supplies.

This disease is different. There's no major drug to deal with it.

Yet.

There's an obvious win-win solution for Big Pharma and me: Pepper. In exchange for calling the chronic inability to complete a sneeze, "Stanhope Syndrome," I'm willing to be part of a campaign to market pepper in small containers. Maybe a pepper pill, but one that's called Xyzedol or Zexatrim (I suspect drug companies want their products to be valuable words in Scrabble). Then those of us who suffer from SS can snort it and sneeze (if my life experience and hours of watching slapstick comedies are any indication).

It could bring relief.

The inability to sneeze is nothing to . . . umm . . . cough at. It's uncomfortable, embarrassing and allows whatever your body is trying to expel to remain in your sinuses. It's a shame and shame is bad, too.

Join with me in bringing Stanhope Syndrome out of the closet. And in it getting it named Stanhope Syndrome.

Mostly in getting it named Stanhope Syndrome.

Let's end this silent, shameful disease that haunts America. And let's . . . ahh . . . ahh . . . ahh . . .

Have you seen my prescription bottle of Xyzedol?

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor who suffers SS. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.