My new T-Mobile Shadow smartphone thought a soft salmon pink was the perfect lighting conditions for this picture, so I went with it and sepiafied the hell out of it.

What you should notice on this third day after the surgery is that scrunched, tense look in my eyes. That’s three days of fitful sleeping. Pretty much the only way to sleep when both nostrils are completely clogged up. Add to that a nice dull, continuous headache and there you go.

Those are silicon tubes hanging out of my nose. They’re called splints, look like clear banana slugs, and are supposed to help the cartilage remember its new position. Mostly, they feel like they are just applying direct pressure to my brain. I was suffering through them as I thought I was getting them out today. Appears Sarah misheard the doctor and he just wanted me to call and schedule an appointment for today. They will come out on Wednesday.

It was after that call that I couldn’t take it and “cheated”. Not too bad though - Afrin can be used for control of light bleeding - just shoot a spray or two up there as needed. I’m really supposed to be shooting saline up their regularly though to keep the area moist. However, moist leads to a complete lack of air movement. So I cheated and put a few shots of afrin up the nostrils and tubes. It did me wonders and probably got me sanely through the day today.

So, next report on Wednesday, after the banana slugs come out…

[additions: i’m done with demerol.  corner-of-the-eye hallucinations and being unable to urinate are bad things. first solid food today was a painful experience - it appears the weight of my nose assists in chewing..] 

I was bored today, so I went and got major surgery.

Okay, not really. Might seem like that to you blog readers, though, as I went from injecting liquid calcium in my nose to this. Just haven’t been in a posting mood.

So, to catch everyone up. The injections had no effect, I was still left with between 0%-5% breathing capacity in each nostril. I ended up opting for the surgery.

And yes, I was scared shitless this morning as I walked into the hospital. Luckily everyone was extremely helpful, and seemed genuinely caring of my needs. I can easily say the most painful thing of the surgery was the local anesthetic they gave me in my hand before putting in my IV.

I remember nothing other than moving myself from the gurney to operating table. I was on the table for about 15 seconds and then I woke up in the recovery area.

The pain is actually quite minimal. The toughest thing I had to deal with so far is a sore throat from being intubated. That’s already clearing up though. Bleeding was to be expected, but has already reduced to almost nothing. I have two plastic splints in each nostril that I will have removed on Monday.

So, it seems like a total success - I’m already breathing freely through it [update: that lasted all of thirty minutes.  See my next post.]. As a bonus, I swear my nose actually looks a little better after the re-aligning of the cartilage. I’ll post some before and after pictures next week..

My nose currently looks even more bulbous than normal today. I bit the bullet and went to an E.N.T. doctor about my increasing difficulty at breathing through my nose.

Found out my deviated septum (very old fist meeting nose injury) is only partly to blame. I have “droopy” flaps in my nose that are leaning against the bent septum and causing a fair amount of blockage.

I agreed to an experimental procedure today that reinforces the nose in a way similar to an internal breathe-right strip using an injectable calcium formula called Radiesse. It was a simple 15 minute procedure that injected the filler into my nose. I have a few decent bumps from the injections that should smooth out in a week or two.

I’ll return to the Doc in four weeks and decide if the procedure helped enough to call it a success. If not, I’ll schedule a full septoplasty that includes a “shaving” of those problem flaps.

Sarah: Just for the record, ’twas not my fist which met the nose.

So for the past few weeks, I’ve had recurring pain in my right arm, wrist, and hand. When it became obvious that it wasn’t going anywhere let alone away, I-me-moi made an appointment with a chiropractor.

I realize that for the normal person, that’s no big deal. People do it every day. But for me? That’s like raising the dead to walk again. I hate doctors. Ok - not hate. But I definitely have issues with doctors. It probably dates back to when I split my chin open at the age of six. All I really remember is the glare of the light and the doctor leaning over me as he stitched my chin closed again. And then when I was twelve and getting my shots for school, I passed out. In high school I tried to give blood and passed out when they pricked my finger to test my blood. I’ve also sliced my pinkie finger on a cat food can and passed out. I once broke my toe and you guessed it - passed out.

Are you seeing where this is going? Are you?

So - in pain, worried about my hand (what piano player/knitter wouldn’t be), I make this appointment. The doctor seems nice. Very relaxed and friendly. And he has a special interest in injuries like mine. After about 15 minutes of manipulation and wrist/finger popping and some extremely painful working of the arm muscles and elbow, I tell this poor doctor (who is trying his best to be helpful I’m sure) that I need to sit down because I’m going to pass out. That’s the last thing I remember before waking up half on the floor and half on the patient table.

Yes. I passed out at the chiropractor’s. From a combination of nervousness, anxiety about doctors, and the pain from my freshly diagnosed tennis elbow. And when he asks me if I pass out often, what’s the first thing out of my mouth? It’s a doctor thing. So not only did I faint on the poor man, but I insulted him upon waking.

So I’ve been given a regimen of icing, stretches, and rest. And after two weeks if I don’t see improvement, I get to go and do it all over again. I halfway think that he’s hoping never to see me again.

Coming off what was truly a horrible “long weekend” in which I worked over 40 hours between Thursday and Saturday morning, I now have to deal with watching my little buddy in a very, very upsetting situation.

Out of the blue Earnest was jumping onto a chair when something went wrong and he now has extremely limited use of his rear legs. Even worse, an expensive latenight trip to the vet found no obvious trauma which points to a neurological problem. He’s exhibiting muscle tone, but he is unable to process the position of his left leg in space, therefore has no feedback available when trying to control it. His right leg is very uncoordinated as well, leading to extreme difficulty even walking a short distance in a straight line.

He is on a harsh steroid while we wait for a neurological specialist to return from vacation Monday or Tuesday. We are being forced to confine him in my hobby room and carry him out to the backyard for regular potty breaks to help prevent further possible injury.

On top of this, our bedroom has “flooded” out of nowhere. We had to yank back the carpet in the doorway to let the floor dry. We are guessing it’s the junction behind the wall where the pipes leading to the heater are located. They may have simply drained into the wall, thereby seeping into the bedroom.

We found mold already in the corner upon lifting the carpet. This combined with a flood insurance agency that is pushing ONE MONTH without a payout (or barely any communication- our neighbors are already finishing all their repairs) and a quote from a trusted contractor to just cleanup the crawlspace running ten thousand dollars….

Although I understand these little setbacks pop up in life, and that they are things to experience while living, I’m feeling pretty bummed about now. I look forward to a good coffee and some chocolate today. Hopefully I’ll have some good news in the coming posts..

[addition: He’s fine. Neurology Specialist saw no problems on the X-ray (contrary to our local doctor) and his diagnostic tests showed no overt neurological damage. Riley might of simply pulled something, or at the worst injured a disk. He’s appeared markedly better that last few days, almost approaching normal, so doctors orders are to keep him less active for several weeks to let him heal and simply watch him for signs of problems.]

Riley managed to break his dewclaw over the holiday. At first it didn’t seem like a big deal. Just a little bleeding. I trimmed it down as far as I dared to and left it at that. But then he managed to snag it again on something. More than likely while rough-housing with the other dogs.

He’s done this once before, only it was a bit more dramatic the first time. He bled more than I thought a dog his size could bleed and it required a trip to the emergency clinic since it was a Sunday. He ended up being drugged and having the wound cauterized and securely wrapped up.

This time around was a bit easier on all of us. The dewclaw wasn’t broken down to the nailbed so the vet was able to trim it all the way down to the break point and then used stiptic to stop the bleeding. Riley is currently recovering nicely on the sofa. (Read quietly napping with Ludwig on my super-soft pink robe.)

Since this was our first little “doggie emergency” in the new house, it entailed checking out one of the area vet clinics. I opted for the one that seemed more of a local fixture rather than the one that had popped up in the new development (and which looked to me like it had the reception area of a small spa).

The vet seemed a bit young to me but she was nice enough and she got the job done with as little fuss as possible. I didn’t much care for the use of the muzzle on poor Riley, but I also understand her need to protect herself from being bitten. Aside from the dewclaw lecture and the preaching on neutering, we survived. She didn’t yank on Riley’s delicate ear or flick him on his nose like the first vet we ever took him to did. But I guess that I had grown accustomed to Dr. Pierce whose practice was literally across the street from me in our previous neighborhood. He was quiet and well-mannered - he definitely had an air of “gentleman doctor” about him. Best of all, he understood the chihuahua personality and with his gentle bedside manner and calm demeanor, had gained the trust of all our dogs. IMHO, he was the ideal vet and we were lucky to have found him.