A Blow To The Face

Tonight will be my last night living with a deviated nasal septum. That's because tomorrow morning I'm going to have a Septoplasty and Bilateral Inferior Turbinectomy. I know, I know, it rolls off the tongue so easily it's amazing that nobody has written a killer Top 40 song of that name.

It gives me an idea, though. If I live through the surgery perhaps I'll take up the guitar again and form a band. We'll call ourselves The Deviated Septums.

Oh crap, after the surgery it'll be too late. If the operation goes successfully I WON'T have a deviated septum any longer I'll just have a septum. Damn, there goes another great career switch idea down the drain.

In all seriousness, I first found out about my deviated septum when I was about 16 or 17 years old. I had been getting a lot of sinus infections and problems with my throat. The family doctor sent me to a specialist who said I had a deviated septum and that it was likely the result of having my nose broken when I was really young. He speculated that I likely didn't even know about it; that sometimes when really young children are playing and having lots of fun they don't acknowledge some serious injuries -- he said I likely kept playing with the broken nose and then it ended up healing in the crooked fashion. I'll admit, I had a bit of trouble believing that scenario until my son Alexander came along -- watching him crash through his day barely aware of the gigantic bruises and scrapes he suffers along the way, it makes sense. If that cavalier attitude toward pain and injury is in his blood, it could be in mine too.

I chickened out of the surgery when I was 17. Not sure if it had anything to do with my Dad joking with me that when they put me out they were going to break my nose and re-set it and then I'd be walking around for a month with two raccoon-like black eyes and a giant cast on my nose (my Dad was quite the joker -- unlike me. I'm absolutely deadly serious about everything I do). I seem to remember that life was tough enough walking around with giant zits on my face -- I didn't need to also be sporting black eyes and a nose cast to get that special ostracized feeling.

But in any case, I've lived with the reduced ability to breath properly through my nose for several decades now. I'm not sure what changed my mind, but the idea of reducing my snoring and potentially reducing getting sinus and throat infections and even getting more oxygen to my often oxygen-starved brain all seem like good ideas. My doctor tells me that after the surgery I'll likely feel a burst of energy like never before. I'm looking forward to that. (And God help those people who know me who think I exude enough energy already)

So I'm going under the knife tomorrow.

Wish me luck.