Let me jump right into it just like I did when I broke my nose last year during a soccer game. Typical. I jumped and hit my head on my own teammate so that was good. Division One soccer for ya.
Anyway, I played the remainder of the season with a hideous Jason-look-alike mask. I
couldn’t really see the ball so that went well for me.
I couldn’t breathe that well and I think the
part that bothered me the most about my nose was the range of reactions I got
from other people. Some would be like, “OH WOW, OH GOODNESS IT’S SO CROOKED!”
And others would say something along the lines of, “Oh, it looks pretty similar
to how it looked before.” ONE OF YOU IS
LYING.
I had to wait until this season was over to get surgery on
it and I think it went pretty well. Can’t be too sure cuz, ya know, I
was asleep. However, I know for a fact I received a bucket load of anesthesia because I would not
wake up. It was quite the struggle.
I told the recovery nurse Dennis, GREAT GUY, that I thought
I was going to die if I had to get up to pee. He gave me a bedpan and I lived
out my lifelong dream of using one. It was as miserable as I had imagined. I
felt like an old lady and was so nervous with people coming in and out of my
room that I decided I actually wanted to go to the bathroom as well. Mistake. I
sprint/skidded across the room with Dennis trudging along behind me preparing
to catch my flailing body. Alas, I made it there and back and, to Dennis' dismay, upon returning I
decided I needed to lie down for about five more hours.
To give you insight to how long I was there, the nurses had
a shift change. I can’t remember my first nurse’s name but Dennis was a very
nice man. He gave me pain meds every time I asked! So competent! I appreciate
that in a nurse. But maybe he was just trying to knock me out for the sake of his sanity. Who knows. Finally it came time for them to give me the boot because they
needed the bed. I groggily changed and when I stood up I started
getting nauseous so I sat down for probably another half hour. Sorry other patients, thank you for your patience. To show his displeasure with my laying back down,
Dennis got my wheelchair and shoved it in my room to help me understand that this really was the end. As he was
wheeling me out he discussed with me that I would be able to shower the next
day. I told him not to worry about it I probably wouldn’t shower for a week. I
think he giggled. Maybe he gagged. One can’t be too sure.
Recovery after that point that is pretty much a blur. Percocet
does that to me. I had some visitors, I tried to eat but couldn’t, and I’m
positive I had some really great conversations. I took a lot of photos to
document my beauty. Don’t worry, I’ll attach a few of the good ones (all of
them).
By the next week I already had my post-op appointment. The
only one I thought I had. WRONG. My surgeon said, “See you next week to take
out your splints.” I replied, “What happens if I’m in California next week?” He
laughed and repeated, “See you next week.” I told him I wasn’t kidding and he
kind of erupted a little bit.
He kind of reminded me of a condescending parent. “You
didn’t plan this out very well!” ‘What were you thinking?!” “Were you thinking?”
He glumly stated that he would try to phone his plastic surgeon friend in
California to do it for me but he might not be able to. He then emphasized that
I would probably not be able to find anyone to take them out while I’m in
California and told me that I might get an infection (and die). I’m just assuming he meant the last part as
well.
But the guy really thinks I won’t be able to find anyone in
LA to take out my nose splints? Half the people there have had the surgery
themselves, I can see them walking up to me on the street being like, “Yeah,
let me get those for ya!” and just ripping them out. Sounds…. Sanitary but hey
a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do!
