I’ve had a cold for approximately 25 years.  I had a challenging first few years on this planet that involved several head traumas and two trips to the hospital for face-smashed-while-jumping-on-furniture issues in close enough proximity that my parents thought they might be asked to surrender me to state custody.   The lingering effects of these events are many, but none have played so prominently in my life as the deviated septum which resulted from a combination of those childhood injuries and several other nose-related concussions sustained in various other pursuits including fainting in my brothers’ wedding, and getting smashed in the face with a fast-moving soccer ball while not paying attention.

What’s more amazing than the fact that I sustained several concussions and still managed to graduate from college is that if one were to meet me, and happen to be in my presence during the 30 seconds per month when I am not either spitting, sniffling, and or talking about how often I have a cold, they might be unable to tell that there’s anything amiss.  My parents were concerned about my frequent sinus infections as a child, but displaying the type of characteristic 1980’s judgment that resulted in acid washed jeans, the doctors opted not to do a CT scan, and instead removed my tonsils and adenoids for good measure.  The surgery was a success as measured by the fact that I no longer have tonsils and adenoids, and by the fact that I received one hand puppet grizzly bear as a gift but its results were less promising as measured by the fact that I had just as many sinus infections as before, and by the fact that I got pneumonia just after the surgery. 

When my problems continued despite the absence of adenoids, I visited an ear nose and throat specialist who attempted to glean information about my potential problems by having his assistants make me wear headphones and raise my hand when I heard beeping sounds.   Amazingly, this did not cure my sinus problems, or lead them to discover that my nose, despite its apparent straightness, was functioning on something less than a single nostril.

After the headphone deal failed, my parents and I gave up hope and I quietly went about my business for the next 10 years with the extreme annoyance of impaired breathing and constant congestion. Shortly after graduating from college, however, I decided that I would see if medicine had advanced any from the tonsillectomy-centricity of my youth.   When I went to my first appointment with my doctor, he looked in my nose and within approximately four seconds, asked me if I had been in a bad car accident, and then told me my septum looked “like shit”.  Given my experience with otolaryngologists I expected him to schedule an appendectomy or give me an eye exam, but was hearted when he instead ordered a CT scan which confirmed his glance-up-my nose-with-a-naked-eye diagnosis.

A few weeks later I met with him, this time to go over the results and to discuss my options.  Option #1 was a surgery which sounded awesome except it was a) expensive b) involved anesthesia c) involved the use of knives in and around my nose d) involved breaking my nose e) involved missing several days of work and f) probably couldn’t take place for several months.  While all of this sounded very appealing, I started to reconsider just how much avoiding the occasional sniffle was worth and in the end, elected to go with Option #2, which was an aggressive use of over the counter nasal spray.  Aside from the logistical problem that the nasal spray immediately hit the roadblock in my nose and dribbled all over my hand and did nothing to prevent the sinus problems, this option worked very well.   So well, in fact, that only now, six years later, I have decided to tackle this problem once and for all.

Some important things have changed since the last time I considered this surgery which have put me in a place where I am finally ready to fix my problems.  The most important thing is that I am married, and though my wife would love me even if I had a cold for the rest of my life, she would love me even more if I stopped talking about it, and more still if I’d spit considerably less often, and a lot more if I could kiss her without having to hold my breath, or cough, or both.  If this doesn’t work, I’m not sure what to do, but I’ll start by getting back my tonsils.