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I prefer the term noncompliant.

Issue Date: Friday, Jun. 15, 2007

I know. I promised hot nostril talk.

Okay, let’s go back in time for a little bit. You with me? All the way to July of 2004. Do you guys remember when my left pupil got all jacked up and was fully dilated all by itself? This is what I posted.

So, the ophthalmologist, Dr. Rugwani, gave me the test results yesterday for the MRI/MRA’s that were done on Tuesday and I’m not sure about what I should think. There is a bunch of mumbo jumbo radiologist speak and then these few nuggets. [They are all capitalized to add to the level of scary I think.]


Wait just a second. What does that mean? A booger? Or something a little less cute?


Are they talking about my butt?


Ok, so it is a booger… just a very stubborn one. ?????


The DESCRIBED ABOVE information looks like sand scrit or hieroglyphics.

So yeah, you see that third part of the report from the MRI? This one, “SOFT TISSUE INTENSITY MASS IN THE RIGHT MAXILLARY SINUS, MOST LIKELY INSPISSATED MUCOUS IN A RETENTION CYST OR POLYP.” Yeah, that one. Sexy right? Okay, so just keep that in mind.

I have been snoring like a trucker for about two months. It is so bad that I wake myself up and Mister has taken to sleeping in the guest bedroom. I even snore when I am lying on my side. This? Is not normal. I used to do that sweet light snore thing when I was laying flat on my back but this? This is grounds for divorce snoring. This is trucker sleeping off a four night binger snoring.

I thought to myself: “Self? Why are you snoring so loudly? You are a petite flower who never sweats, just glistens... who never curses, just says ‘Mercy me!’ and who never poots... EVER.” So I called Dr. Eduardo, the hot (Argentinean) GP, and got a referral for an Ear Nose Throat guy.

Ear Nose Throat guy was referred and I called and set up an appointment for Tuesday. This Tuesday past.

Whoo hoo... what a hoot! First off. The office? The reception area held the highest wheezers and mouth breathers per capita than your average assisted living community. I love old people... and I get it... I was in an Ear Nose Throat guy’s office. There were bound to be some messed up sinus passages in there... or an ear infection or two. Maybe a tracheotomy? At least an oxygen tank. Sure.

So when I got there, there was this elderly gentleman in a wheelchair, his son and his grandson. The guy in the wheelchair was totally cute with his little socks on. The grandson was listening to music via his headphones and breathing so loud I could hear him over my own music through my headphones. There were three young Asian women there, one who had a head(ear?) wound and massive bandages, two other women, annnnnd me.

I filled out the paperwork and waited my turn. It was thirty minutes past the time of my appointment when I finally got called back into the examination rooms. I looked at this machine which had a sign stuck firmly upon it that said, “DO NOT TOUCH MACHINE” and I wanted to touch it. It was old... or looked old. Had a knob that went all the way to eleven and these tubes and glass viles and all these things. Several drawers were tempting me to open them.

Okay, is it just me or do y’all always want to read all the charts, play with the model of the inner-ear canal, open drawers and cabinets and look into them when you are in a doctor’s office? Just me? Well, I don’t have that urge when I am at someone’s home like other people I know. Just in doctors’ offices. I promise. Oh, stop it. I did not look in your medicine cabinet when I was at your house last time... but you are almost out of Q-Tips.

So this soft spoken teeny little Asian doctor walked into the office. He asked me several questions and when I saw that he was trying to work his way around to sleep apnea, I told him, “No, I have not gained a significant amount of weight in the past two months. No, I do not stop breathing when I am snoring at night. No, I have not had a sleep study done, but I am on _______ medication to help me sleep as I have been an insomniac since puberty. This snoring is new, NEW. Two months new, I don’t think I could gain enough weight in two months that would make me have a fat esophagus.”

So the sweet, soft spoken, soft handed man stood up, turned a light on over my shoulder (Y’all. He was wearing one of these on his head, and I am so not kidding.) and started feeling around on my throat. I wanted to ask him if it felt FAT, but I restrained myself and instead tried to stop laughing at the head mirror thing.

He opened a drawer on the DO NOT TOUCH MACHINE machine and pulled out a tongue depressor. I tilted my head up and he looked at my mouth, and my uvula. “Your uvula does not seem swollen.” (In my head... “It’s not FAT!?”) Then he opened another drawer on the untouchable machine and pulled out these little reverse tweezers with rounded tips on them. He tilted my head up and put it in my right nostril(!) and pressed on the tweezer thingies so they would open the nostril further for a better view. He did the same with the other nostril. Then he checked my ears, deemed them fit and asked me if he could scope my sinus cavity and my throat.

I had told him earlier in the appointment that I had had surgery at the end of March and had been intubated. I wondered if that could have caused any damage and or make my snoring so unbearable. Or if my soft pallet had gotten so fat... what with all of the four pounds I have gained since getting off of birth control and starting to eat meat again. (I was actually very polite to the poor man.)

When he suggested that we proceed with the scoping he turned, opened the door, yelled, “Scope Please!” and then turned back to me. He turned a knob on the untouchable machine all the way up to eleven and then came at me with the nostril tweezers. He shot some medicine into my right nostril and asked me kindly to breathe in. “NO!” I replied.

Mister has always said that I am a combative patient. I prefer the term noncompliant.

The cute little old Asian ENT guy said, “Please breathe in.” So, because he said please, I breathed in. He then moved on to the right nostril and then grabbed another vial of medicine, and with the air brush sprayer from hell shot that stuff up my right and left nostrils. One was numbing and the other helped open the sinus cavities, I am guessing here. I could feel the medicines dripping down the back of my throat and wanted to throw up on him. But he was so nice, and said “Please.” that I didn’t want to ruin his perfectly white lab coat or his head mirror thingy. So I just blew my nose loudly instead.

See? The sexiness. You guys feel it don’t you?

One of the nurses walked in with this thing that looked like a ham radio and plugged it into the wall. The doctor was holding something that looked like a car charger with a light on the end of it and plugged it into the ham radio. He came at me. “I need you to lean forward with your chin out and your head tilted back... ever so slightly.” I wanted to say, “NO!” but I complied. He showed me the tube, “See? Very small tube. Will not hurt you, most say that it tickles. If you have discomfort, please let me know.”

And he started feeding this tube with a scope and a light up my right nostril.

Let’s let that sink in for a moment.

Let’s also remind those of you playing the home game that I have an issue with saliva, snot, mucus and everything related to the three.

So I have this little Asian man shoving a tube up my nose while he is looking through a scope. He goes, (Not kidding) “Oh, you have a polyp in your right sinus cavity.” He then turns the scope to me, puts it up to my left eye and asked, “Can you see it?” Thank you, kind sir for trying to show me the wonderful and magical workings of the human body, but... when you turn the scope so that I can see it? Well, let’s just say that you kind of poke my brain. I now know calculus.

He also kept talking to me. He wanted me to answer him with this THING in my nose! I could feel it in there. It was not comfortable. It is sort of what I would imagine a penis fish would feel like... but in my brain. He pulled it out and started feeding the tube up my left nostril.

Now, I know we are close and all, but let me tell you... when I am checking for bats in my cave I can not see up my left nostril, as the sinus walls are basically swollen shut. So, yeah, this was not an easy, breezy, beautiful nostril exam. LAM (Little Asian Man) said, “Oh, so swollen.” And I had to agree with him... Verbally, because he had a TUBE UP MY NOSE.

When he got done with the nose part he fed the tube further into my throat. I could feel it hitting the back of my throat just about parallel with my uvula. He goes, “Say or sing, ‘EEEEEEEEE’.” I rolled my eyes for good measure.. and also to cover up that I was crying like a big pussy. “EEEEE-hee-HEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

I asked him if he was done, he said he wanted to look around a bit more and I actually begged him, “Please take that thing out of my head sir?” He nodded, his little head mirror bouncing light off of my glasses, and started to remove it. He was going So SLOW. And I appreciate the thoroughness and thoughtfulness, but COME ON... Get that out already!

So when we were done, LAM asked me several questions about having a broken nose, “No.” Chronic sinus infections, “I wouldn’t say chronic.” And told me that my throat was in perfect order, and that I had a deviated septum and the polyp in my sinus cavity that he had mentioned before. He thinks that the polyp is from chronic sinus infections and put me on nostril spray, some antibiotics and a decongestant.

“Come back and see me in two weeks!”


So, yeah, I’m taking all the stuff and the drainage is making me want to hurl and yesterday I played hookie from work and slept off and on until 3:15 p.(fucking)m., baby! I don’t know what I am going to do about this snoring. Apparently it is a little better. But I really don’t want to have someone rooting around in my sinus cavity looking for stuff to cut out. AND, I don’t want plastic surgery on my nose. I like it, just the way it is.

Will keep you posted.

Woo hoo! Nostrils!


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To understand this dear reward (above) at all, you must hie thee on and read gatsby’s grape ape entry and my comments.

And because of said comments he sent me my very own dream turtle in an email titled wee gift with these words attached, “my purple monkey is booked solid so i ordered you a tangerine turtle. hope he proves helpful.”

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