Friday, January 07, 2005
They Cut Up My Face
Yesterday I had surgery on my face. No, not plastic. I'm in the mood to rant about it.
So here's the deal. Ever since my family moved to Central America seven years ago, I've had problems with allergies. I don't mean minor problems. I mean holy-crap-not-even-the-drugs-help problems. It's been really bad. The symptoms: the usual stopped up or runny nose but taken to the extreme, eye irritation, bad breath...it even meant my voice didn't change until last summer, so I spent 3-4 years of my life only talking to people if I had to, because it sounded so strange. Last summer I went back to the USA to visit family, and voila, I could breathe again.
But then I came back and it all went to hell again. Fun fun fun.
So my parents finally realized, "Hey, maybe we need to see a doctor about this." So we visited an allergist. He was amazed I could breathe at all. It turns out that all this was caused by a bunch of crap that's been building up in my sinus cavities for years. Basically, tiny balls of mucus, known as polyps, had been collecting in those cavities. That kept mucus from passing into my nasal passages and ensuring that there's plenty of room for air. So, aside from the symptoms mentioned above, my nasal passages were only about 1/8 as wide as they should be for comfortable breathing. The doctor was surprised I was breathing at all.
It was obvious I was going to need surgery to correct all this stuff, hopefully permanently. So yesterday, I went and got it done.
Let's get something straight here: I've had surgery before. Lots of times. I've broken bones before. I had my wisdom teeth taken out last year. But other than eye surgery that I had when I was eight and I don't remember, I've never been into an actual operating room before. So while my parents wait in the waiting room (that's what it's there for, right?) I follow some nurses into a small, tiny room with one of those stretchers they roll patients down the halls with on ER (you can tell I know a lot about the study of medicine).
Then a nurse comes in, hands me one of those flimsy little hospital gowns, and tells me to strip down and change. Then she leaves the room.
Okay, this was quite honestly the worst part of getting ready for surgery. I have this thing about getting naked when strange women I don't know are close by. And honestly, why do patients have to wear those gowns to begin with? That's the real mystery. It's supposedly to stop contamination or something. It's not like I had anthrax. I had allergies. I don't consider myself to be much of a threat if I have allergies.
I suppose the gowns are used so that in case of an emergency (eg. my heart stopping for absolutely no reason), they have easy access to whatever other areas of my body that they need to fix. But that still doesn't explain why they leave it open in the back. Is there honestly a medical reason for it, or is it just so if the nurses are lucky they get to see some booty for free? Seriously, not only is it weird for the patient, but it's dangerous as well. Who knows what the doctor and nurses could be doing while you're high on anesthesia? The world's a messed up place. It could happen.
Anyways, after I was changed, a nurse came in and put little fluffy socks on my feet. It was obvious they weren't taking any chances. There was a definite possibility that my toes were infected with a strain of the Ebola virus, and the only thing keeping the doctors alive was those socks. Give me a break. They're feet. Not biological hazards.
So then they had me lay down on the rolling stretcher, and wheeled me into the operating room. The next thing I knew, there was an IV in my arm pumping some anesthesia into my veins.
Here's the part I don't understand. They had told me I would be awake for the entire procedure. But after a few minutes, I was completely unconscious. Maybe it was the fact that it was early in the morning and I was exhausted. Maybe it was because they gave me too much anesthesia. I really have no idea. All I know is that two hours later, I woke up and wondered if they were going to start any time soon.
Here's what they did, at least as far as I understand it. While I was off in Dreamland, the surgeon was busy sticking a tube with a camera on the end up my nose, under my eye, and into my sinus cavity. He then proceeded to cut out all of those polyps from the inside. Supposedly, it was really bad in there. A ton of gooey, rotting gunk had decided to make my sinus cavities its home, and it all had to be sucked out. He did this with both cavities on either side of my nose. Then he straightened my septum, which for one reason or another had been crooked. Then he cleaned out my nasal passages so they were nice and wide, like they're supposed to be.
The best part about the surgery was waking up. For the first 15-20 minutes after regaining consciousness I was still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. I was pretty high. I became more hyper after every passing minute and I really enjoyed the fuzzy sensation in my head.
Two rather boring hours later (also known as four hours in Latin America), I was finally able to leave. And now I'm suffering the after effects. For all day yesterday and some of today, I've had to walk around the house with a big chunk of gauze taped to my nose to stop the bleeding. Not only does it make me look stupid, but it's extremely uncomfortable and makes eating a difficult thing to do. Fun fun fun. At the moment, the bleeding seems to have stopped. For now at least. But whereas my nasal passages were nice and clear after the surgery, now they're full of clotted blood. Woohoo. It's like nothing changed. I have to breathe through my mouth all day long. I feel like I was hit by a truck. My nose hurts due to all the new junk that's trapped inside. Thanks a lot doc, you really fixed me up great!
On Monday, I go in for a final checkup, where they will proceed to clean all the blood out of my nasal passages. All I know is that, when it's all over, there'd better be a big difference.
If I had to wear that hospital gown for nothing, I'm going to be really upset. I could sue them for sexual harassment.
Quote of the Moment:
"First the doctor told me the good news: I was going to have a disease named after me."
--Steve Martin.
So here's the deal. Ever since my family moved to Central America seven years ago, I've had problems with allergies. I don't mean minor problems. I mean holy-crap-not-even-the-drugs-help problems. It's been really bad. The symptoms: the usual stopped up or runny nose but taken to the extreme, eye irritation, bad breath...it even meant my voice didn't change until last summer, so I spent 3-4 years of my life only talking to people if I had to, because it sounded so strange. Last summer I went back to the USA to visit family, and voila, I could breathe again.
But then I came back and it all went to hell again. Fun fun fun.
So my parents finally realized, "Hey, maybe we need to see a doctor about this." So we visited an allergist. He was amazed I could breathe at all. It turns out that all this was caused by a bunch of crap that's been building up in my sinus cavities for years. Basically, tiny balls of mucus, known as polyps, had been collecting in those cavities. That kept mucus from passing into my nasal passages and ensuring that there's plenty of room for air. So, aside from the symptoms mentioned above, my nasal passages were only about 1/8 as wide as they should be for comfortable breathing. The doctor was surprised I was breathing at all.
It was obvious I was going to need surgery to correct all this stuff, hopefully permanently. So yesterday, I went and got it done.
Let's get something straight here: I've had surgery before. Lots of times. I've broken bones before. I had my wisdom teeth taken out last year. But other than eye surgery that I had when I was eight and I don't remember, I've never been into an actual operating room before. So while my parents wait in the waiting room (that's what it's there for, right?) I follow some nurses into a small, tiny room with one of those stretchers they roll patients down the halls with on ER (you can tell I know a lot about the study of medicine).
Then a nurse comes in, hands me one of those flimsy little hospital gowns, and tells me to strip down and change. Then she leaves the room.
Okay, this was quite honestly the worst part of getting ready for surgery. I have this thing about getting naked when strange women I don't know are close by. And honestly, why do patients have to wear those gowns to begin with? That's the real mystery. It's supposedly to stop contamination or something. It's not like I had anthrax. I had allergies. I don't consider myself to be much of a threat if I have allergies.
I suppose the gowns are used so that in case of an emergency (eg. my heart stopping for absolutely no reason), they have easy access to whatever other areas of my body that they need to fix. But that still doesn't explain why they leave it open in the back. Is there honestly a medical reason for it, or is it just so if the nurses are lucky they get to see some booty for free? Seriously, not only is it weird for the patient, but it's dangerous as well. Who knows what the doctor and nurses could be doing while you're high on anesthesia? The world's a messed up place. It could happen.
Anyways, after I was changed, a nurse came in and put little fluffy socks on my feet. It was obvious they weren't taking any chances. There was a definite possibility that my toes were infected with a strain of the Ebola virus, and the only thing keeping the doctors alive was those socks. Give me a break. They're feet. Not biological hazards.
So then they had me lay down on the rolling stretcher, and wheeled me into the operating room. The next thing I knew, there was an IV in my arm pumping some anesthesia into my veins.
Here's the part I don't understand. They had told me I would be awake for the entire procedure. But after a few minutes, I was completely unconscious. Maybe it was the fact that it was early in the morning and I was exhausted. Maybe it was because they gave me too much anesthesia. I really have no idea. All I know is that two hours later, I woke up and wondered if they were going to start any time soon.
Here's what they did, at least as far as I understand it. While I was off in Dreamland, the surgeon was busy sticking a tube with a camera on the end up my nose, under my eye, and into my sinus cavity. He then proceeded to cut out all of those polyps from the inside. Supposedly, it was really bad in there. A ton of gooey, rotting gunk had decided to make my sinus cavities its home, and it all had to be sucked out. He did this with both cavities on either side of my nose. Then he straightened my septum, which for one reason or another had been crooked. Then he cleaned out my nasal passages so they were nice and wide, like they're supposed to be.
The best part about the surgery was waking up. For the first 15-20 minutes after regaining consciousness I was still feeling the effects of the anesthesia. I was pretty high. I became more hyper after every passing minute and I really enjoyed the fuzzy sensation in my head.
Two rather boring hours later (also known as four hours in Latin America), I was finally able to leave. And now I'm suffering the after effects. For all day yesterday and some of today, I've had to walk around the house with a big chunk of gauze taped to my nose to stop the bleeding. Not only does it make me look stupid, but it's extremely uncomfortable and makes eating a difficult thing to do. Fun fun fun. At the moment, the bleeding seems to have stopped. For now at least. But whereas my nasal passages were nice and clear after the surgery, now they're full of clotted blood. Woohoo. It's like nothing changed. I have to breathe through my mouth all day long. I feel like I was hit by a truck. My nose hurts due to all the new junk that's trapped inside. Thanks a lot doc, you really fixed me up great!
On Monday, I go in for a final checkup, where they will proceed to clean all the blood out of my nasal passages. All I know is that, when it's all over, there'd better be a big difference.
If I had to wear that hospital gown for nothing, I'm going to be really upset. I could sue them for sexual harassment.
Quote of the Moment:
"First the doctor told me the good news: I was going to have a disease named after me."
--Steve Martin.
# posted by Andrew Johnson : 1/07/2005 04:04:00 AM 
