Redneck Sod

You can pick your friends, your cats, and even your nose. I'm considering exchanging the kid without a receipt, however.

[My yard, after I treated it for weeds, re-seeded it, and got the sprinkler heads fixed. Sometime around 5 a.m., it was attacked by a wayward Mustang. Patrick would be in his room, sleeping, but apparently forgot rule #1: hide the evidence]



I have a c-shaped scar on my wrist from running forward as a glass door was slamming backwards, which is cool if you're into monogramed body parts. My c-shaped nasal monstrosity (aka NOSE), however, has been the bane of my existence and ruined more photos than I care to mention. Distorted and exaggerated in my mind, perhaps, but a profile is a terrible thing to waste.

On Wednesday, I underwent a Septorhinoplasty to straighten my nasal passageways, get rid of the hump, refine the tip (and make me beautiful-ish). Because there was a deviated septum involved, my health insurance forked out 85% of the cost of the procedure. Gracias, Blue Cross!

Recovery is going well (except for what looks like a piece of cartilage or leaking brain material poking through my left nostril. Several attempts to remove on my own have caused near blackouts) and I've been able to get out and about with my purple-rimmed eyes, bandages and nose splint. You'd think people would stare, but they go out of their way to avoid looking.

Top 5 anxiety-causing activities post-nasal surgery:

I. Being told not to sneeze or blow my nose for two weeks while it seeps and bleeds its way into a new shape.

II. Getting in the car. Sure, I've only closed my nose in a car door once, but that was enough (the fact that my son accidentally closed his car window on his nose a few weeks ago makes me wonder if these are common injuries?). Also related seems to be a new fear of walls. I've never actually walked smack dab into one nose first...or have I?

III. Driving. More specifically, crashing and having airbags inflated. onto. my. face.

IV. Trying not to get the bandages wet. That was just a suggestion for the 2-showers a day patient, right?

V. Getting addicted to pain medication because moving/breathing/ sleeping hurts so much. Lortab? Oh, yeah, I get it.


Anonymous Alcoholic

Two projects for a new and improved me. No deadline and graded on a curve.

1. Self esteem. Get more.
2. Obsessing. Do less.

I saw James' colonel at my gym yesterday, on my stairclimber. I didn't ask her about the snake she's dating, if her divorce is final, or how the date went with Crazy Dan. I've practically moved past it altogether. Sure, I can share.

One memory I play over and over, however: when James and I flew to Michigan one weekend to pack all his belongings and haul the crap down to Alabama, I offered to go to the liquor store on the corner so he could continue loading the truck. He pitched in some money, told me the name of the hard-to-find Brazilian Rum we loved, and said, "don't tell the store owner you know me."

Huh. I keep wondering how someone with a big, fat ego would interpret that comment. Could I just take the hit and stop obsessing about it, at least?