When the
specialist told me he wanted to do a sinusotomy I thought he said sinusodomy. “You call that minimally
invasive? It’s great that you don’t have to cut through the skin, but you
didn’t tell me you were going that
direction.”
Only when that confusion
was straightened up did I consider the idea.
So, this week,
I’m going in to have a minor procedure done on my sinuses. “Minor procedure” is
what people say when they don’t want to scare you with the word “operation”.
But it really is a fairly minor outpatient procedure. Unlike when my father had
it done years ago, it’s an endoscopic surgery, and doesn’t require cutting from
the outside to reach the inside. It’s more like going into the nose with one of
those electric sewer Roto-Rooters snake machines.
Well, there’s a
comforting thought. “Okay, power it up and let’s shove that snake in!”
I’ve had sinus
problems all my life, but they’ve gotten progressively worse the last few
years. No doubt living in the Midwest, land of “Boy, it was hot and humid
yesterday—hey, it’s snowing!” doesn’t help, but it’s too late now for me to
move to New Mexico. The last three winters I’ve had more sinus infections than
most people get their whole lives, with the exception of those who live in
northern Minnesota and are also heavy cocaine users. Still, having heard horror
stories about people who have the surgery and then live in terrible misery, I
sought out every possible treatment.
Then I realized:
I was already living in terrible
misery.
The ear, nose,
and throat guy examined my ear, nose, and throat, and quickly realized some
things that I should have found out about a lot earlier. It was the same
situation I ran into when I was diagnosed with multiple allergies about five
years ago: I’d spent my whole life with no idea I had more allergies than Ben
and Jerry’s has flavors. As a kid, I’d just assumed everyone coughed, sneezed,
and blew their nose constantly. As a teen, maybe I’d have gotten more dates (or
any) if I didn’t look like patient zero in a flu epidemic.
Anyway, the ENT
discovered I had a deviated septum. A septum is a thing in the back of your
nose that’s apparently supposed to be straight. Later he described it as
“severely” deviated, and suggested I’d broken my nose sometime when I was a
kid. Although you’d think I’d remember something like that, my brother and I
did have something of a rough and tumble childhood; we were always one bicycle
jump over a homemade ramp away from a broken bone.
Apparently the
nasal passages are like an eight lane highway, and my septum was like a semi
that jackknifed and blocked six lanes. Every time I breathed, there was a fifty
car pileup.
To make matters
worse, my nasal passages had narrowed to such an extent that absolutely nothing
would pass, somewhat akin to budget hearings in Congress. The ENT informed me
he’d be bringing a “balloon guy” to do his thing during the procedure. At first
I thought that meant I’d get a cheerful get well soon helium-filled balloon,
maybe in the shape of Snoopy. It turns out he meant balloon sinuplasty, in which
one of those long, narrow balloons like the ones clowns use is inserted all the
way up my nose, then blown up with a tire inflator, or maybe an air compressor.
It’s just like angioplasty, which I almost had to get after learning about
sinuplasty.
“I’m going to be
asleep for this, right, doc?”
“Don’t worry,
there’ll also be an anesthesiologist there.”
At that point I
stopped worrying about the procedure, and started worrying about the bill.
This procedure is
about ten years old now, so if the balloon popping in the middle of the
procedure was ever a problem, I suppose it’s figured out by now. So, they’re
going to straighten my septum and blow up my sinus passages, and if all goes
well, I’ll be good as new in about a week or so.
If all doesn’t go
well … well, then, I hope my last column was a funny one.
Kidding! I’m not
really worried about that, so much as the possibilities of post-op problems of
a more annoying variety. But the procedures have improved, and risks are low,
and it would be a fine thing to get rid of these headaches that are sometimes
debilitating, and always annoying. Maybe I can save enough money in not buying
ibuprofen to pay for the thing … eventually. If not, I’ll give some big sob
story to get people to buy my books, and after a few tens of thousands of sales
the whole thing will be paid for. I’m cool with the sympathy pitch.
In any case,
don’t expect to hear from me online for at least a few days, and possibly a
week or more. I may or may not be able to catch up on my TV watching and book
reading, but I doubt I’ll be up to looking at a computer screen for a while.
Mark, try drinking 3 Tablespoons of Bragg's Apple Cider vinegar in a warm cup of water with some local honey very night. It helps.
ReplyDeleteI don't think that's something I want to try until my surgery heals up!
DeleteIt's a shame you didn't relocate to the desert as a child. Prayers for all going well and fast healing. I'll miss your humor until you are back.
ReplyDeleteDon't I know it! I do love Indiana, though ... warts and all.
DeleteI've had sinus infections on a couple of occasions... they were bad enough.
ReplyDeleteYeah, and when they keep recurring ... I was getting three or four every winter, and sometimes in other seasons.
Deletesending good vibes your way :)
ReplyDeleteJust what I need!
DeleteYou and I are alike this way. I'm always suffering from my sinuses. I too have a deviated septum, but I have a bone spur growing on it. Yay. I've never been brave enough for this surgery, so I can't wait to see how you do. Good luck to you.
ReplyDeleteI would recommend it--as a *last* resort. But now that I've had it, I'm very satisfied. I'm actually having trouble getting used to how well I can breath through my nose!
Delete