A Nose Is A Nose

Or is it?? Not if your nose was broken at fourteen without your knowledge. June 2016, I was having some serious allergy issues. I went to the ear, nose, and throat doctor. Dr. Bennion. He's one of my favorite doctors too. 

I went in to discuss my allergies, nothing was working for me. My medications and the VNS were making it difficult to breath. As soon as he sat down he said, "You have a fracture line down your nose." All I could say was, "Really?" Remember the post of the seizure where I face planted into the table? It was from that.

We started discussing the procedure. Now, I thought that nose surgery just meant nose surgery. I was really excited to finally get the nose I was always supposed to have!! YESSSSS!!!

Wait, we're not changing the physical appearance of my nose?? Medicaid doesn't cover that?? We're just making my jacked up nose straight? The rest will still be jacked up? Can we just shave the sides of my bridge and trim the end of my nose??????

June 29th, Joel drove me down to the hospital for my surgery. We had to be there around 6 am. My surgery didn't happen until 8 am. Joel was so tired, I was too but I was going to be having a pretty long nap soon. He said he was going to go home and just get another hour of sleep. The nurses told him they would call when I was coming out from anesthesia. As he was walking out the door, he turned around and jokingly said, "Don't die on me."

The shocked look on the nurses' faces...classic! I looked at them and said, "He's just kidding, that's how we talk to each other." They still seemed concerned. Like they were about to bring in Social Services. Damn are we the only relationship with highly sarcastic tones? 

The anesthesiologist came in. We went over the usual questions and explanation. He told me that when I come out of anesthesia, he would be pulling the tube out of my throat that sucks up the blood. He also said that I might be conscious when he does that and not to panic. Um, excuse me but if I am conscious as someone pulls a tube out of my throat, I'm going to karate chop you in the jugular.

Fortunately, he didn't get hit that day. I wasn't conscious. I was being rolled back to the recovery room, Joel was there. Him and the nurses had this very concerned expression on their faces. Joel said to me, "I was just joking when I said not to die on me!" I looked at him all doped up said, "What the hell are you talking about? I'm alive." Apparently, my color was giving mixed signals. Joel was telling me that they might have over drugged me. Whatever, I was feeling great. 

The nurses didn't leave the room. At all. If one did have to leave, another stayed. I didn't know what the fuh the big deal was. I heard some mumbling and then, "We may want to get her on morphine." WTF!!! Was I dying for real???? I said hell no to the morphine. Given the situation with Nana, I related morphine to keeping a person comfortable while passing away. Hell NO! 

I was so drugged on whatever was in that magic concoction of anesthesia, I just wanted to sleep. Joel was right at the end of my bed and kept tickling my feet as soon as I'd close my eyes. I was SO pissed. I looked at him, well half way looked at him, and said, "Leave my ffffeet allllloooonnneee. I jusss wahnnna sllll" and....I'm asleep. We did this for about two hours. He would tickle my feet, I would get mad and try to talk. Finally, he said, "The nurses need you to stay awake, you stop breathing when you close your eyes. They're a little freaked out."

Irrelevant!! I wanted to close my damn eyes. I felt I was breathing just fine so let me sleep! 

Then, I got a horrible taste in my mouth. I popped up from my near comma and started gagging. I was reaching out with the 'give me something' gesture. They gave me this miniature shopping bag looking thing. Then it happened. The sickest shit I've ever felt. Pure blood up the esophagus, into the miniature bag. Filled that baby right up. Ya I know it's sick, I was there! I lived it!

Joel does not do well with blood. At all. So he had to keep looking away while making sure I wasn't missing the bag. I was able to leave at about 3 pm. I thought the fun was over for sure. No one can puke up that much blood more than once and live.

Boy was I wrong. It was awful. My nose became beautifully straightened, but still not the nose I felt was owed to me. 

I looked like I had been standing between Mike Tyson and Evander Holyfield, but dodged the whole ear cannibalism thing. I mean, holy shit look at my face! HA HA!

Not so funny, I had to be set up with in home oxygen from the surgery and my lack of breathing at night from the meds. Jesus, just put me in a home already.

Oh ya my allergies. Well, I wasn't allergic to any food. Not surprising, I'm Italian. I am allergic to basically everything in the air! So, I started getting injections. That sucked too. Not as bad as using an EpiPen on yourself for the first time. 

Fun story time! I had some herbal essence earlier. Joel and I went to his dad's and Joel's best friend was there. That fool had no shirt on and was bit pretty damn bad. I was on a different level, I didn't notice the mosquitoes colonizing on my body. When we got home, Joel had fallen asleep with Keaton upstairs. 

I was digging into my skin just itching and itching. I grabbed my emergency EpiPen. My first mistake was looking at the needle. My second mistake was pulling the pen out before the medicine went in because it freaked me out. I had to wake Joel up. I made him hold my hand. I can let others stab me but I just can't stab myself! I finally did it, I was so proud. The bites were so bad though, I had to do it again, later in the day. I was just stabbing myself that day.

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