Where do you suppose doctors get their information on how someone’s treatment and/or recovery will go?
I’ve already blown the lid on how sinus surgeries go (in short: very, very painfully) – and at my follow-up appointment today, Dr. ENT was super surprised to hear I’d felt any pain at all. (Probably due to his pre-surgery
belief explanation to me that I’d only really feel some slight discomfort afterward but would most likely feel close to my ol’ self in a day or two. By day three, he was sure I’d be ready for a walk outside. Update: I still get tired walking from my house to my car.)
At his surprise, I nearly dropped my jaw in shock. (‘Nearly’ because it didn’t technically drop due to my mouth already being open due to mandated/super sexy mouth-breathing.)
So when I mentally prepped for him to suction out snot, blood and scabs from my nostrils, I wasn’t really telling myself it would be a piece of cake, no matter what Doc told me to expect.
…and I was right not to.
So in some history class in junior high (high school, maybe? It all runs together now?), we talked about the mummification process in ancient Egypt, which sometimes included pulling the brains of the dead through their nose with a hook so the embalmers didn’t have to go through the cumbersome process of cracking open said dead person’s cranium.
They’re lucky they weren’t around to witness that.
At today’s follow-up doctor appointment, Doctor ENT stuck a vacuum/suction thing (reference: think of that thing at the dentist where they suction out moisture from your mouth, except with an open end instead of the plastic tube fitting you spit into) up my nose and sucked out the remaining innards of my nasal passages.
Doctor, attempting to suck up a scab (that’s, you know, pretty attached to the inside of my nostril) with his tube thing: “Let me know if this is uncomfortable at all.”
Oh, no, Doc, this feels fantastic. Please continue shoving your Dyson detachment up my schnauz.
In other words, “uncomfortable” wasn’t really an adequate word. More like “OMGYOU’RESUCKINGOUTMYBRAINS.” or “ICANFEELTHEAIRFROMTHEVACUUMALLTHEWAYUPINMYSKULLSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOPSTOP.”
You get the picture.
Maybe it’s the marketing gal in me, but in lieu of medical professionals giving patients expectations on upcoming procedures, they should really just give them the phone number of someone who went through it recently. Then they’ll get the real story.
(But yes, if you’re wondering, I can kind of breathe through my nose now. My taste buds are sort of back, and my sense of smell has almost returned. We’ll get there.)
Feel free to refer to me as Queen Hannahpatra now, or whatever.