Never underestimate the calming influence of guacamole, melted cheese and my adorable blue haired girl.
It all started Tuesday morning when I was leaning over the bathroom sink, muttering profanities at the plughole while performing one of the four nasal douches that I have to endure per day after the most miserable operation of all fucking time.
I stopped abruptly as fresh blood filled the sink. Fuck.
Thankfully I stemmed the flow quickly, did what I needed to do to get Boo to school and then stuck a torch up my nose to have a look, and saw something white.
Something white and flat and sticky-outty that looked like it fucking DID NOT BELONG THERE.
So I spent the entire day freaking the fuck out, just Dr Google and I looking at deviated septums and that something white and flat and sticky-outty that looked like it fucking did not belong there looked suspiciously like the BEFORE picture and not the AFTER picture.
And I DID gently blow my nose the day before and a whole lotta crap came out.
And I am snoring like a motherfucker.
And then there was that bleed.
OMG I HAVE RE-BROKEN MY NOSE AND THAT SOMETHING WHITE AND FLAT AND STICKY-OUTTY THAT LOOKS LIKE IT FUCKING DOES NOT BELONG THERE IS MY MOTHERFUCKING CARTILAGE!!!!!!!
As you can imagine by the time MPS came home from work 8 hours later I was in quite a state. Vacillating between deep denial and googling how to fix a broken septum at home.
Because it is impossible to contact the surgeon who did the operation, I am pretty sure the fucker likes it that way, within half an hour we were up at our local Emergency Department settling in for a 4 hour wait.
Which is pretty damn good considering it was a 6 hour wait when I had a stroke.
After being triaged by a lovely doc who was being pulled in forty different directions at once, I was eventually seen by another doctor who we now assume was a first year trainee or something.
Or the cleaner.
She snapped on some gloves and looked tentatively up my nostril with a torch.
(after MPS showed her how to turn the power switch on. After plugging it in. Because she thought it was broken.)
Then the other.
Then back up the nostril with the offending something white and flat and sticky-outty that looks like it fucking does not belong there SITUATION.
‘I see bone.’
My exact expression. Even in my heightened sense of complete and utter panic I still found the time help a bitch out and let her know that it would be cartilage and not bone.
Also, she thought it was Monday.
(ASIDE: I forgot to tell you guise! I almost got prepped for a BOOB JOB when I was admitted for this operation in this exact same hospital! I had to tell the nurse TWICE that I was in for nose surgery before she would believe me…)
She disappeared for a while to go ‘and talk to her boss’ and then came back and basically told us to go and find an ENT specialist cause there was no one available in 100k radius for at least a week.
It was 11pm and this doctor was telling us that I had a bone sticking out of my nose that could possibly get infected and that she would not even LOOK at it, her supervisor was nowhere to be seen, and we should probably drive 2+ hours to the Emergency Room of the Ear Nose and Throat hospital in the city cause it looked pretty bad.
And this is where MPS started to lose his shit.
But, thankfully, he was able to reign it in enough to get a letter from the
cleaner doctor to get a referral to the ENT hospital and get us home before I passed out from hyperventilating at the thought of going through the operation from hell again.
(the letter basically said that I presented at the local hospital with exposed BONE from complications from septoplasty. And that they recommended that I go to them cause there is no ENT in the country. I shit you not)
We decided to go in the morning after dropping Boo at school, so less disruption for him and MPS needed some sleep before the 2+ hour drive.
I spent the night propped up in bed, sleeping fitfully. Horrible nightmares about being in the morgue with someone attaching a toe tag to my right foot while zipping up the plastic bag, the theme song to Bobs Burgers playing in the background…
Cause I am fucked up like that.
Needless to say, especially if you have read the previous post and any of my whining on facebook or twitter, there were lots of tears and freaking the fuck outs for the next whatthefuckever hours until we finally made it to the hospital and I made this heartfelt plea
At this point I was ready to pledge MPS’s left nut to get out of having surgery again, but was pretty much resigned to it. And because I hadn’t been able to flush all the gunk out of my nose for hours I wasn’t able to do anything but think (no reading cause I couldn’t put my glasses on my swollen nose) I was beating myself up about fucking up birthday week next week and not being able to bake cakes and buy presents and do birthday tables and WOE IS FUCKING ME…
and damn people wear some ugly shoes around here.
Eventually it was our turn to see the doctor.
I was literally shaking. As I sat down I saw grey closing in at the sides of my vision, I was that close to blacking out.
I don’t think I have ever worked myself up into such a state before.
(I imagine that is how I would feel handing over the cash to buy my first Louboutins. But in a good way)
He looked up my nostril.
The one with the something white and flat and sticky-outty that looks like it fucking does not belong there BONE.
And then the other.
‘Which side is the one you are concerned about?’
I look at MPS.
He looked again, spreading my nostrils with a spready thingy (technical term) and using some tweezers to pull out some gunk.
‘It was just mucus’
‘Mucus. When the turbinates are removed it can become hardened. I will get my supervisor to have another look’
‘Snot. It is SNOT.’
His supervisor came in. Checked out my schnoz. Concurred with his diagnosis of hysterical snot and pathetic country ER and sent us on our way.
I have never been so motherfucking relieved in all my life.
I didn’t even fucking CARE that the parking cost $61.
(maybe a little bit)
Or that MOTY will never ever let me forget that she had to pick Boo up from the bus and look after him so we could come down to the city.
(ok, maybe I will eventually)
Or that I probably aged 40 years overnight because of the incompetence of our local medical offerings
I practically SKIPPED out of that hospital and we hightailed it down the road to pick up Maddie who was just finishing work.
We had a super long hug with my beautiful baby girl, and then HALF PRICE MEXICAN FOOD.
Which totally made up for it.
Well maybe the nasal suctioning and stupidhead doctors.
Guacamole is awesome but lets not get ridiculous.
P.S. Alas it is not all sunshine and nachos. Remember when I told you all about having that little side effect to the mega doses of antibiotics? Yeah, well I had a motherfucking allergic reaction to the treatment and burnt down my Lady Garden. And this was all happening while sitting on those hard ER chairs.
P.P.S. Oh and I got the nervous squirts from all the nervousness. That didn’t help the complete devastation down there.
P.P.P.S. And then? THEN? Come on. You have to guess… Yep. My period. I got my fucking period. I was a mess of hives and sores and blood and fucking diarrhoea and then I got my period all the while expecting to go in for the most horrendous surgery ever. Again.
P.P.P.P.S. This is the last one. Probably. I dreamt that a hamster crawled up my nose and died. Then this afternoon a clot the size of my thumb came out of my nose. It smelled like vanilla cake. Cementing my hatred for cake and also reminding me that it is Birthday week this week.
NO SURGERY HUZZAH!
P.P.P.P.P.S. Back to work tomorrow. Wish me luck!