A NOSE BY ANY OTHER NAME

I have been feeling a bit poorly since last Thursday when I elected to go under the knife and have sinus surgery. This was not entered into lightly, mind you, and I have been mulling it over for some months now. When is it ever a good time to have this sort of thing anyway?

Not being a big "pill popper" I usually look askance at prescription pain killers, reasoning that white wine is just as efficient at dealing with annoying pain and lots more fun. Having said that, I am trying to be adult about managing my post-op pain and also do some symblance of work. So I am working from home this week and am about half way through my government-issued bottle of Lortab. I would prefer J. Lohr but this will do for now.

Having been admonished prior to other surgeries by the nurse because I chose not to remove my navel ring I decided this time to avoid the social embarrassment by taking it off at home the night before my surgery so as not to cause a fuss. Sure enough, the question was asked and I was able to say without reservation that I was sans jewelery or piercings of any description. I was kind of hoping they would demand proof since it was actually a real pain in the you-know-what to remove it. As it turned out, I could have left it where it was. They weren’t going to be anywhere near my belly button unless my doctor got it mixed up with my nose and wouldn’t that be a worry?

By Saturday I was feeling well enough to replace my navel ring, which proved to be a bit of a production owing to my impaired motor skills (thanks to the Lortab). After some dithering around, though, I managed to get it back in there and (I thought) securely fastened and tightened up. Who knew that later that same day I would discover that it was missing and nowhere to be found?! Paco and I both looked high and low but to no avail. It was finally determined that my navel ring had vanished and that a new one would have to be bought pronto or else the little hole would quickly close up and I would no longer be hip. So off we went to the tattoo parlor around the corner, Paco driving while I popped more Lortab.

Once safely parked up in front of the Skin Room Paco opted to wait in the car while I teetered my way towards their front door. It’s a pretty scary place I must say and did not blame him a bit for not wanting to go in there. Fortunately, no one there questioned my spaced-out demeanor or slightly slurred request to see their selection of navel jewelery. Clearly, anyone walking in there that wasn't stumbling around would be the target of deep mistrust. I was just your average Saturday afternoon customer.

Following my purchase Paco drove me home, intending to help me replace my missing ring. Here was our post-tattoo parlor conversation:

Me: Here, let me do it. It’s easier if I do this. Just stand there and hold my shirt up.
Paco: Sweetie, you can’t see what you’re doing and you’re weaving all over the place. Let me do it.
Me: No, no, I can do this. Where are my glasses? I need glasses and a flashlight.

Paco (handing them to me): I think you should lie down before you fall over. If you smash your nose we will have to go right back to the hospital. For goodness sakes, please lie down on the bed. Your nose is dripping.

Me: Okay, fine, I will lie down. Please hold the flashlight right there so I can see what I’m doing. More to the right. No I said right. Who’s glasses are these? These aren’t mine. I can’t see anything.

Paco: That’s because you have them on upside down. Stop. Stop. I will do it. Here, hold the flashlight.

Me: Oh, okay. Ouch, be careful. Ouch. No, no, that won’t work. Let me straighten out more. No, ouch, stop.

This went on for 20 more minutes before Paco finally got my new navel ring securely fastened into its new home. Then I promptly fell into a Lortab-induced coma and poor Paco went in search of the bourbon. His patience is wearing thin. I get the splints out tomorrow and hopefully life will start to return to normal. Just in time I might add. I am almost out of Lortab.