Who Nose How the World Goes? (Rethinking Rhinoplasty)

After this whole surgery situation and the hellacious recovery, I just can’t see myself getting a nose job. After I was hit in the nose by that jock while playing a miserable game of volleyball, my nose healed crooked and it’s always bothered me. I have enough facial afflictions without the added nuisance of a gnarled nose. Of course, that nose break is what ultimately led to this surgery. Did I mention that jerk never even apologized? After I got back from the doctor and went back to P.E., everyone noticed that my nose had doubled in size and turned a particularly putrid shade of purple. All the guys in my class asked me what happened and I told them that the dude had fractured my nose. They went back and told him so he came around, looked at my nose and smiled, almost as if he had accomplished something spectacular. I mean, his face didn’t so much express pleasure in actually hurting me, just that kind of dumb mixture of mischief and masculinity. You know how guys are. Any time we can tear something up, we feel good about ourselves.

I could see his inquisitive eyes darting across the swollen landscape of my nose, thinking to himself, “Whoa, I did that? Freaking sweet. All those bench presses are paying off!”

I really don’t like jocks.

At least I got to sit out of P.E. for a while.

If I would have known how horrendous my healing period would be, perhaps I would have considered throwing in the rhinoplasty along with the other two procedures. Like, let's just get all of this over with and out of the way! Of course, that notion is out of the question because I can’t pay for that right now. It was always something I had imagined I wanted to do in the future after I had secured myself financially and saved up for the procedure. But after that week of hell, I just can’t see having a nose job and going through all of that again, not to mention the recovery will probably be worse ‘cause I’m pretty sure they actually break your nose to reshape it and that will involve a lot of pain and discomfort and black eyes and swelling and bruises and no thank you. I guess that says something about me, right? Maybe I’m not that vain. I’m sure some people wouldn’t care what price they had to pay, out of pain or pocket, to fix themselves up purdy. But not me. Eh, I don't know, or maybe it’s not so much that I’m not vain but I’m just a huge baby. I'll either have to come to terms with my Owen Wilson looking beak or I can man up and realize a few weeks of dizzying pain might be worth a lifetime of great looking snout. Given, of course, that there aren't any complications. It is me we're talking about, after all.

It’s like the butterfly effect has played out on my face. Who would have known a simple punch to the face in high school would have caused all of this agony all these years later? Fracturing my nose caused my septum to deviate so drastically that it has affected my breathing, sinus drainage and even provoked a long dormant birth defect to come out of hiding and set up shop on my throat. And if you want to talk about proper breathing and how it affects the mind and body, there’s no telling how I've been affected. If I never would have had my nose turned into grape jelly, maybe I would have turned out completely different. I would have been able to breathe and have more energy and feel better physically and mentally and emotionally and maybe I would have finally found the motivation to lose all of this weight and gain some confidence and be social. Maybe I’d be a better artist or writer. Maybe I would have done better in school. Maybe I’d be an all around better person.

Eh, I know it’s silly to think such things. Perhaps I’m even being a little bit overdramatic. I tend to get that way but I blame it on the nose. In fact, I’m going to start blaming all of my problems on my nose. Even the paranoia I feel over having had my nose broken can be blamed on the broken nose. Like I said, silly to think such things. There’s no way of knowing how I would have turned out, healthy nose or not. And maybe all of the health benefits of breathing are overall good but not so much that it would completely devastate a person if they had a little blockage in their right nostril. I mean, it’s not like I wasn’t getting any air through my nose at all or anything. Although those scans of my skull were quite revealing, showing I was only getting in half the amount of air I should have been. I really wonder if that has contributed to some brain cell death. I gotta blame my life being in shambles on something, right?!

Sometimes I wish I could see that guy again so I can tell him what he did to me. I don't know how much satisfaction that would bring, though, because he didn't care about me then and he certainly doesn't care about, nor even remember me, now. It's not like he'd fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness, insisting on paying all of my medical and dental bills ('cause, remember, he also chipped my tooth). It's not like he'd express remorse over his actions. If anything, he'd probably produce that same twinkle in his eye that I saw that day in the locker room when he inspected his handywork and grinned. "Whoa, I did that? I was the cause of all of your years of intense sinus pressure and a disfiguring goiter? Freaking sweet!"

It is weird to wonder about how I might have changed others just like that guy changed me. Simple actions, simple words, simple intentions might have a profound affect on others, whether the results are immediate or don't manifest until days, months, years later. I like to think I've influenced people and hopefully it's always been for the better. I mean, we all influence others to some degree. I just find it fascinating how I might have left my mark. Was it something I said, did, wrote? What if my mere presence is enough to change someone's direction? How powerful and powerfully scary is that? When I think of things like that, it definitely makes me want to reevaluate my behaviors and beliefs, especially with the kind of characteristics I've been exhibiting lately. You know, it's all fine and dandy for me to be a Negative Ned but it's not like I'm trying to push my agenda on anyone else. I definitely don't encourage people to be as cynical as I am yet I can't help who I've become. I'm trying to get back to that sweet, kind-hearted kid, the boy who believed in love and life, the one who dreamed and felt good about his future. The boy who was alive.

Who nose. Maybe this surgery will just be the impetus I need to make some changes. If it's true that my downfall happened the day my nose was demolished by some guy's baseball bat of an elbow, then doesn't it make sense to think that things could be looking up now that the problem has been corrected? Or is that too much to hope for? Uh oh, there's that negativity again. That's why you should never dabble in depression, kids. It can be habit forming. I guess its going to take a lot more than a straightened septum and a week of recovery to shake my cynicism. But, I guess, if everything does have a ripple effect, maybe the surgery has kicked off the current of causation that will eventually evolve me from dead to dapper. And maybe I just haven't reached the ripple of rethinking yet, that place where I can finally feel good about who I am and what I'm about. Maybe, if I'm patient enough, it'll all wash over me and I'll be clear, calmed and cleansed.

Maybe this will be my next big break.

So to speak.