It’s over. The operation is done. I am home, and not able to eat and drink much is doing wonders for the size of my backside (not fast enough though). The nose op is past, and I am looking forward to being able to breathe through both nostrils properly again. A bone spur removed, the septoplasty done, debris from past damage cleared out, and sinus flush.
I could really have been done without the surgeon coming to see me 15 minutes before the op to tell me that just under 1 in 100 of these ops go wrong, and the consequences are devastating, ie brain damage. Now that sent me into total overdrive, my face went puce, and I could feel the flush raise to my ears. I nearly bottled the op there and then, but I suspected the odds were not quite what they should have been. If I had really thought the odds were 1 in 100, I would have definitely, got up, changed out of my gown and headed for the nearest door as fast as I could run.
I pretended not to hear, went down to theatre, the surgeon apologised for causing me last-minute stress, and offered me laughing gas to get the needle in the back of my hand, which I pathetically and gratefully accepted.
Home after the op on the day, I felt fine. I watched a film, chilled out and rested. They must have given me some gooooood pain relief. Day 2 and I was floored. The failure of operation germ avoidance kicked in and added a cold with sore ears to the mix of sore nose, oozing gunge, and throat and voice gone.
The headache is awful, and the hospital don’t send you home with enough saline sniff packs, syringes to do it with, or nose bandage things, as believe me, there is a LOT of gunge comes out.
The nurse in the ward was lovely, and my kids have been strangely behaving reasonably well. I have a purple nose, only one slightly black eye, and I think I am doing not too badly.
I would have to say though, that I once had a big open laparotomy (where they split open your belly) and that was much more pleasant in the aftermath than this is. Off to drown headache with water and prescribed drugs.
Yours Wimpishly Pathetically