Schnoz, Part Two

Five years post-op, I finally took time off to visit my ENT doctor today to discuss a couple things that have been bugging me. He’s highly intelligent, quite literal, and very no-nonsense except when the jokes are his own. If you’ve ever heard me refer to my nose as “decidedly not very Anglo”, you can thank this guy for that expression because he randomly muttered it while examining my nose at my first appointment. Visits to his office are always lively for one reason or another, whether it’s because of the commentary or the post-op splint removal. (Want to watch a horror story? Google “septoplasty splint removal” and feel badly for me for having had to go through that BS.)

Anyway, about today.

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Chief Complaint: Stabby Pain

My dear, sweet husband has been asking to take me to the ER all day because he’s convinced I have an ulcer. I’m convinced that after his recent finger+hedge trimmer incident we need to avoid ridiculous ER bills for a while and I should try to get in with my GP tomorrow instead. Also, “I’m not dead yet!” and I can sit up and type this, so I’m clearly not ready for the ER, right? RIGHT.

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Tonight one of the guys at the front desk of my gym DETAINED me because I lost my temporary access card.

Guy: I’ll look you up. Last name?

Me: (spells name)

Guy: Is your first name Roxanne? (grinning)

Me: Are you just making that up?

Guy: Yeah.

Me: Do I LOOK like a Roxanne? (in a slightly meaner tone than I intended; oops)

Guy: Uh, yeah. I think it’s your eyes.

All I can think of is the song about the hooker.


Girl at the checkout counter: “Has anyone ever told you you look like Kate, you know, like Prince William’s Kate?”

Well, yeah, my aunt says that and I don’t quite believe it. But if shopping at Home Depot in my work clothes gets me such flattering compliments, I’m going to schedule more after-work Home Depot stops.