God nose, it could be worse

This week hasn't gotten off to a great start.

As you'll recall from an earlier post - and there will be a test - I mentioned I had a rather volcanic nosebleed about a week ago. But I saw my ear/nose/throat doctor, decided to buy some stock in saline gel and spray, and let it go at that.

And I didn't have another nosebleed. Until yesterday.

I was leaving the house for a gig at an agency I work at frequently, and I let the dogs out (guess that answers that question) one last time. While I was in the yard, I bent over to pick something up and blew a gasket. Like they say in the movies, it was a gusher.

The creative director at the agency I was supposed to start at has been great, and after having my nose cauterized (this post just gets better and better doesn't it?) today, I should be back on track Friday.

It all got me thinking about people who have it much worse than I do when it comes to nose issues. If there's anywhere size does matter, it's the schnoz, especially when it comes to colds, allergies or, for the overachievers in the audience, fire-hose nosebleeds.

I don't have a large nose or a small nose. I'd place it right in the middle. However, when I was in junior high school, Eddie Petroff decided to place it off to the side.

I was on the bus home from Bancroft Jr. High School in Hollywood. The bus was jammed with kids, and was pulling away from the stop when I saw Eddie walking with his girlfriend Dorinda, who I was friends with. Eddie saw me looking at Dorinda and said something to me, and I said something back. I figured I was fine since the bus was moving.

Well, besides being in a gang called the Diablos (so quaint, they used fists instead of guns), old Eddie was quite the little runner. He ran alongside the bus, and got the driver to stop and let him on. In slow motion, I saw Eddie parting the Red Sea of students, storming down the middle aisle making his way to me.

All together now: Oh shit.

Eddie got to me, grabbed me by the collar, said something stupid that made me wonder, again, why Dorinda was with him, then punched me in the nose and broke it. My friend Sandy was in the seat behind me, and years later, when I asked him why he didn't do anything to help me, he gave me a disarmingly honest answer. He said, "I figured why should I get killed."

Anyway, ever since having my nose broken by Eddie, I've had problems. I've had surgery twice to correct a deviated septum (Septum? Damn near killed 'em!). Apparently during one of those surgeries, my septum was perforated so I now have a small hole in between airways. Sometimes late at night, when the moon is full and the sky is clear, if the air's cold or I'm breathing hard enough, like from walking to the kitchen to stare into the open refrigerator, or looking for the remote, if you listen carefully you can hear my nose whistle.

I'm thinking about taking it on America's Got Talent. Still undecided.

The point, and yes there is one, is despite my nasal distress since junior high and this past week, it could've been worse. Thankfully, it's all manageable.

If someone were to ask me what I think of this post, I'd have to say snot the best I've ever done, but at least it doesn't blow. Sorry, couldn't help myself.

I'll take my leave now with my favorite big nose joke of all time. Pay attention, it happens early around the :47 second mark. Please to enjoy.

Welcome back cauter

Nice picture isn't it? It's sunrise over the Caribbean Sea.

The reason it's here is because it's considerably more pleasant to look at than the images I got when I Googled "nasal cauterization."

Take my word for it.

The reason I was looking that up is because I had to have it done last week. I was sitting on one of our newly reupholstered couches at home, and I sneezed. Hard. When I did, the wall of a weakened blood vessel very near the surface on the inside of my nose blew, and I started bleeding profusely.

It was like a scene out of Dexter.

Thank God I managed to get into the bathroom and over the sink so I could bleed there instead of the couch.

Now, the site of my nose gushing blood like the well in There Will Be Blood (no pun intended) would normally be enough to scare me into a panic. Fortunately, I knew what was happening because it's happened before.

The same thing occurred a couple years ago, and I had to have vessels in both sides of my nose cauterized. In case you're not familiar with cauterization - and why would you be - it's a minor procedure where they burn the vessel either electrically or, as they did in my case, chemically with silver nitrate to stop the bleeding and seal the blood vessel with scar tissue so it doesn't happen again. At least in that vessel.

It works in theory. But here's the thing: once you have it done, your body says, "Hey, what the heck! How am I gonna get blood to this guys schnoz?" So it regrows the vessel(s).

It's not necessarily the location that makes it happen. It's the fact the nose dries out and weakens them. Hence the small bottle of saline solution you'll see me spraying up there five times a day for the next month.

The other thing is that while it heals, I can't blow my nose or sniffle too hard. And I have to sneeze with my mouth wide open, which takes the pressure off the nose, not to mention scares the hell out of anyone within earshot cause it's so loud.

That part is fun.

Then there's the Neosporin that I have to apply very carefully each night with Q-Tips so my nose doesn't dry out during the night. I'd like to take a moment to thank the Santa Ana winds for their impeccable timing.

So, all in all, it looked a lot worse than it was. And at the end of the day, I realize it could've been symptomatic of something much worse. I have a lot to be thankful for.

Not the least of which is finding that picture of the Caribbean. Trust me.