a little bit louder now...

This is for you, Dr.Lizz:

So, we're only up to the Monday after surgery, but there isn't as much to tell after that. Here's what was noteworthy to me--

Haha. I took some notes for myself so that I could write all this, and for Tuesday, I wrote "ass day." I guess that means I just relaxed. And I sang some I'm sure, too.
Wednesday, however, was noteworthy. I decided to celebrate my one week surgeversary by going to an audition. It was just a nice regional season audition asking for two selections. So I went. I still felt like I was singing through a cold--a little stuffy, a little runny. And I didn't know exactly how to control each note as I placed them the same as I'd been for so long. I'll write more about the adjustment later, but I think the audition was a good, solid return to happy auditioning. I figure at the worst, I sounded just a little better, and it felt a whole lot better. And just before I left the audition room, one of the auditors called me back. "Allison. In all of your cheerleading and gymnastics experience, did you ever twirl a baton?" Sigh. Of all of the numerous and random skills I have, I never have. And I'm kind of awful about truth stretching at auditions. And so I answered with a disappointed but optimistic smile, "No I did not. But I can learn." And you know, in my mind, just the fact that they asked the question confirmed that it was a solid audition just a week after surgery.
Thursday, I went out with the Cook. We had a lovely afternoon in Lincoln Square where he got me tipsy on a very large margarita and full on heavenly gelato. It was lovely. And aside from the fantastic company, it was nice to be out doing something on a beautiful day when I could smell the flowers.
I got home from my afternoon with the Cook to a very excited Blitz. Now, when I come home to him, he flails and jumps a lot, so I'd been particularly careful not to go anywhere near him until he was calm enough not to hit me. On this particular day, I underestimated. He looked calm to me, so I crouched down to pick something up from the floor. Then I saw him coming. His nose smacked square into the left side of my nose, right down at the bottom. I don't know if it was the physical pain or the thought of him having knocked my new, straight septum just a week after surgery that hurt more. But it hurt. A lot.
I called the office of Dr. Dimples as he's the one who fixed my septum, and the nurse told me to stop in the next day for a double check.
"I just couldn't stay away," I joked, as Dr. Dimples came in. He took a look up the right nostril and smiled.
"That is a straight septum. Who did that?" He and his shining bedside manner assured me that nothing had shifted. And since I was there, he very kindly offered to do a little clean-up and stitch removal to increase my comfort. And then we just chatted for a few minutes about his upcoming business trip. You know, bedside manner or not, he sure knows how to pay a girl some attention. Whataguy.

I almost deafened my mother, but we both smiled (part 4-the punchline!)

Since surgery, I had been looking forward to Saturday. Saturday would bring two showers--my first since surgery and one to celebrate the upcoming wedding of some dear friends. My personal shower was fairly uneventful except for the fact that I still had a bandage on my nose and had to dodge the sprays of water that came too close. It was good to be up and around, though, getting dressed in real clothes and going outside on a beautiful day. I was still in pain and Norcoed up, so Han drove me and JHo up north to the celebration. Even the bandaged, slightly out of it girl can say that it was a beautiful event. That pretty much took everything I had on Saturday. I left a little early and went directly home to my friend, Mr. Couch. I watched the Belmont and then promptly began the napping and relaxation portion of the night.

Since I did pretty well on Saturday, I decided I'd try my first trip to the dog park on Sunday. I spent most of the way there trying to get Blitz to stop pulling and most of my time at the park sitting on the highest perch, ready to fend off any jumpers. It was again nice to be out and feeling the normalcy beginning to return. Sunday evening, some of the Cat siblings + adorable nephew came over. Han had some more grilling fun, and we all watched the Tonys. It was very sweet of them to come over and great to have them around. 

Still throughout the weekend, I found myself exhausted after each event. I still felt like I was walking around with a bad head cold and a nagging headache, and I was getting more and more antsy to get my splints out at my first follow-up appointment... which finally, finally brings us to Monday.

My first follow-up appointment with both surgeons was scheduled for Monday morning. But as I was getting ready to go, I'd have to face one milestone--my first sneeze. I'd been told before surgery that if I had to sneeze, I should just open my mouth. But the feeling hadn't crept up until Monday morning, and when I felt the point of no return, I fearfully braced myself for the pain. "A-choo!" And... it was fine. Yeah, I know--sorry to let you down. It was a big relief, though!

So my wonderful mother came downtown again to drive me and for moral support. We got to the hospital, and on the way up the elevator, a woman looked at me and said, "You have a really cute nose!" I thanked her. I'm sure she probably thought I'd had the whole thing done and was trying to be nice--and it was nice. And it was funny considering I was still quite swollen. I guess my nose looks good puffy.

Anyway, Dr. Dimples came in first. He said I looked great and pulled off my outer bandage. He also recapped for me that the surgery had gone perfectly--and he still didn't believe me that I had indeed felt the difference right after surgery. I'll skip a lot of the gore of cleaning out my nose with the various rinse and suction and tweezy tools to get ready for the splint removal. I will say that while it wasn't pleasant, it wasn't bad. Dr. Dimples told me that he'd just done the same to a man older than me--the man was a big baby while I did great. There was nothing left to do but get those splints out. First, he pulled out the stitch that was holding them in place. Then, he reached in to grip the first one. I felt it sliding down, down, down, until this gigantic piece of plastic was butterflying open in front of my face. It was huge! If you're the curious type, go to YouTube and search "nasal splint removal." The plastic sits against the septum and arches in the nose, so it all fits in there just fine. But the way in unfurls is just really shocking and cool. That's the only way I can describe it. Anyway, the first side was out, and I felt the shock of cold air rushing in and out like a windstorm. Time for the other side. The splint slid out, opened up, and so did my head...

If you wear glasses or contacts, you know what it's like to get a new prescription and look at the leaves on the trees and realize you're seeing details you'd been missing. This is what I felt to some infinite degree. When both splints were out, I breathed in and out, in and out, through just my nose. And perhaps this is what all normal people feel. But it felt like my nostrils went from stirring straws to tree trunks, and the amount of air going in and out felt so smooth and so full. And I could hear it... echoing. In fact, I could hear myself echoing. For the last who knows how many years, I've been hearing myself in my head from the bottom of my nose down. But suddenly, I could hear with my whole head from my cheeks up through my forehead. It sounded as if someone built an echo chamber in the middle of my head. And I mean, I guess they did (or at least they returned it). But it felt to me like someone added another dimension, another sense. It was truly thrilling to feel and hear and speak. And I knew this was the resonance I had been missing. All that open space I was feeling and the amount of myself I was hearing was the heaven I'd been hoping for.

Dr. Dimples asked me how I felt. I said, "I can hear myself from here (holding my hands to my cheeks) up!" I smiled to my mom excitedly. And then I immediately told Dr. Dimples that I also felt incredibly light headed. Yes, I'd been tougher than the guy before me, but that great adrenaline surge of hanging in there through the digging around and splint removal had sent me to fight or flight land. So he tilted my chair down further and placed a cool compress on my forehead. Within a couple minutes, we were back to work cleaning everything out. Dr. Dimples explained to me that my nose would shrink wrap down to normal size after a bit of time, and before I knew it, he was shaking my hand and telling me he'd see me in six weeks.

Dr. Amazing came in right as Dr. Dimples was finishing. He asked me how I felt, and I excitedly explained how amazing I was feeling already. I told him how my few days had gone, he reviewed how his part of the surgery had gone. And since nobody had gotten to speak to him after surgery, I thought to ask, "So... just how much space were you able to make? A good amount?" 

"I'd say... you have about eight times more space."

Floored.

I mean... floored.

"Eight times? Eight times?"

I don't really remember what happened next because I was somewhere in dreamland.

But I do know that Dr. Amazing continued to explain that things had gone fantastically and that the result would make a significant difference. He had more instructions to give me which he did in his usual kind and detailed way. Finally, I asked him when I could sing. He made a sort of shrugging gesture as if to say, "Right here and now if you want." I probably thanked him a few more times before he also told me to see him in six weeks. But in my head, I was already out the door, back to my place, singing every piece of music I own.

Since I was feeling so good, Mom and I went to meet JPL for lunch. All the way there in the car, I hummed to myself, getting to know the new sounds of my new space. I'd hummed a bit during the week, but more to check how my cords were feeling after intubation. In the car, I started to sing just a little. I think I asked my mom a dozen times if I sounded any different. She reassured me that I still sounded just like myself. And as for me, I could already feel the difference, that just those little bursts in the car... they were easier...

Lunch was great. My mom was having fun looking at me because the swelling in my nose concealed my bump almost completely, so my nose looked straighter and wider as well. So my mom and I looked even more alike than usual--she got a kick out of it, as did JPL and I. JPL brought baked goods and an awesome "to read while you're sitting on your butt" gift--a music business book to help me plan out some next steps to take with my music. We ate and visited, and then it was time to go pick up Blitz from the groomer. He was beautiful and a full dogs worth of hair smaller (after a big spring shed). And then it was time. I asked my mom if she'd stay just a bit longer to play through some songs with me--our version of partying it up.

I can't even remember what I sang first. I started with the four songs I chose to get me through the last of the pre-surgery auditions. I warmed up a bit, and then we just plowed through the songs. It was amazing. What I felt was so foreign but exactly how I'd described singing my whole life until the last couple of years. All I had to do was open my mouth. And there was the sound. I didn't have to maneuver each note. I didn't have to think or push or save. It just came out. And it felt like nothing--in the best possible way. I didn't feel the pressure on my cords or the air running out. I felt the sound ringing through my whole head, through my nose... I turned the pages through my music book asking my mom to just play a little of this one with the high legit note, or just one more belty piece. She reminded me not to push it. I wouldn't. I just had to do enough to get a little tour of what I had to work with... It was like being reunited with a lost love...

When I was a kid auditioning, I used to hear the same thing over and over again. They would always be surprised that such a big sound came out of such a little girl. So effortlessly.

Finally, after the whirlwind of singing and celebrating and wows from mom, I turned to her again.

"So, can you hear any difference, or is the difference just how I feel?"

I didn't care what her answer was. The important part is how I feel, that I'm healthy. Sure, the result will sound better, with more resonance, no more wonky notes, more endurance. But I wasn't looking for her to give a yes or no. I was just curious if she could hear just how big the difference was that I was feeling.

"Well," she said. 

"You sound like you... but..." She placed her hand to the ear I'd been closer to. 

"You're definitely louder."

So as it turns out, that Monday, I almost deafened my mother, but we both smiled.

There's still a little more to my story, but at least I finally reached the punchline! : )

I almost deafened my mother, but we both smiled (part 3)

Back to the story...

Thursday, the day after surgery, I woke up excited... to put in my contacts and see again. Shortly after I was up and around (and medicated), I received a call from one of the nurses. She was incredibly apologetic for the day before, reassuring me that someone should have gotten back to me. It was fine. It really was. But I thought the phone call was sure nice after the long day I'd had. Eating was still clumsy. Try moving your upper lip without feeling it in your nose and you'll know what I mean. I still slept on and off during the day. My mom stayed until the afternoon, and JPL came over shortly thereafter. She made me lunch and kept me company and was pretty much the most rockin' sister/caretaker for the day. OtherMe drove in from the burbs to visit, which was super nice and not at all out of character. So the three of us hung out, as much as I could hang out, and the day passed. I slept on the couch again and again was up every couple of hours to ice, drink, or pop a pill. 

Friday was my first morning on my own once Han went to work. I was feeling good enough to try it out, but I was admittedly nervous about being alone with the pup all morning. But--he was awesome. He took a sniff, saw me settled in on the couch, and he spent the entire morning laying calmly next to me. Dogs are amazing like that, or at least mine is. Mom came over for the afternoon again, and when Han got home, he grilled a lovely dinner for us. I'm not sure I adequately described before what it was like to have a completely plugged nose with ears popping, etc. If I didn't, it will only be gross to do it now. But please, as you read, stick that in for a while every few hours. But beside the still very intermittent airflow through my nose, things were settling down a bit. The hardest few days were over.

An interlude...

Well, I still haven't reached the mother deafening punchline. I'll get there. I will. But I needed to take a moment today just to celebrate. Last night ended my two weeks of initial recovery. This means I can now bend over, work out a bit, start getting back to various "work," and enjoy as the swelling continues to go down. After sitting on my butt for two weeks, there is so much I want to do...
First, I cannot wait to work out. I've enjoyed all the ice cream and the warm chocolate chip cookies, but I'm itching for some yoga to undo the knots of sleeping sitting up and slouching on the couch. And dance. And everything. So I'll move my body.
Then there's my voice. My first lesson isn't for another week and a half. And I don't even know what I'll do at that lesson. I mean, I want to sing through my whole book better than I did before. Then I want to sing new things I couldn't sing before, and sing... just... everything. And I want to record. And there is only one audition on the Chicago Actors Equity website currently. So perhaps a NY or LA trip is in order. And then what? If I want to gig, I need to finish writing some songs, but that means my outlet is still at least a few weeks away... It's amazing to feel so refreshed about the thing I love so much. And at the same time, I feel a little short on opportunities to go celebrate it right now. I don't just want to use my voice for my new singing in the shower obsession. I want to share it... as we singers so love to do.
I found a similar duality in the healing process of the last two weeks. There were all the aches and restrictions and missteps, the ups and downs of healing. I am still not even close to 100%. But at the same time, there was such great progress. Until this point in my life, my recoveries have been limited to injuries. When you're injured, it's pretty much all about the return to normalcy. But in this case, recovery coexists with growth, and the improvements make me feel like I surpassed "back to normal" and left it way back in the dust of recovery day one or two.
For week two of healing, I started to watch Nip/Tuck from the beginning. I watched it for a couple seasons when it was on, but I missed a lot. I've always been fascinated with medicine, and I've always been a sucker for a medical drama. But watching while healing has fueled this respect I have, especially for my doctors, and particularly doctors who build. When I think of surgeons, I often think of people who fix. The body is supposed to be a certain way, and when it breaks, they follow the blueprint they know in order to put it back. But watching N/T reminds me of the doctors who build and create. (And not that I want to give any doctor a G-d complex,) but isn't it truly special to be gifted with the ability to construct any part of a human? I think it's pretty amazing. And I feel very blessed that a few gifted hands have allowed me to use my gift properly again. It's the great restoration of 2011. It may not make the history books, but it will make mine.
This may sound all sappy or born again-ish, but honestly, I've just used my time to think about this stuff, to process the process. I'm just so happy I made this decision. I pursued the problem to its end, and I'm sure going to make the most of the solution.

I almost deafened my mother, but we both smiled (part 2)

"Allison" is the first thing I heard when I woke up. Everything was blurry since I didn't have my glasses, and there was lovely lubeystuff smeared all around my eyes. I felt great--which I think was a combination of the drugs and being happy to be awake. It's a weird feeling to wake up somewhere you didn't go to sleep. I'm sure many of you know this feeling from your wild and crazy social lives. I do not. So I woke up in a recovery room very happy and very sleepy, and I took a breath in through my nose. Yes, there was splinting and gauze in the way, but through my right nostril, I could feel this glorious preview of what was to come. For the first time in years, I could feel cool air rushing smoothly in and out of my nose. That moment knocked out any questions of regrets, and that moment would help me hold on through whatever ups and downs recovery would bring. That tiny preview told me that things were going to get so much better.

The nurse told me I had to wait there for a half hour before my family could come in. That time flew by, and before long, I was sitting up in a chair smiling(ish) at them. The nurse brought juice and crackers, but mostly I stuck to the juice to combat the incredible dryness in my throat. My mom told me Dr. Dimples had come out to tell them how everything went. I did great. Everything went smoothly. I woke up laughing, and I told him I could breathe better already. Dr. Dimples told my family this was just because I was loopy. He'd tell me this again at my first post-op appointment. But I swear I could feel the air. 

Getting home was pretty uneventful. I was indeed loopy and dizzy, and I still couldn't see. 

Stop the presses! There is a certain relation of mine that has asked not to be mentioned in this blog in order to maintain his privacy. In my relating to him that these stories are awfully difficult to tell without being able to reference him, he has suddenly given me permission to do so, under the code name Han Solo.

So... "Han" drove me home, and he and my mom got me all settled in on the couch. They changed my gauze, made me food, brought me ice, etc. They were both champs. They even moved the couch about 3 feet from the TV so that we could try to watch together. I don't remember the exact order of the next events, but there were a few more wacky Wednesday happenings. 

1) Dr. Dimples is so awesome that before he left my mom and Han, he gave them his direct pager number to call if I experienced any one of a few 'bad' symptoms. Things were going pretty normally for the first hour I was home. But about 1pm, my nose started bleeding more than it was supposed to--enough to warrant a page. So Han paged Dr. Dimples. And some message told him the pager was off. Han called the office. They said we'd get a call "later." A while later, my mom called the office and was told that as the Dr. was still in surgery, a nurse would call. At 5:30, the office was closed, and we still hadn't heard anything. My nose was bleeding so much that it was completely full, and my ears popped each time I swallowed. So I tried the pager number once more. It worked. I left my number, and within 5 minutes, Dr. Dimples was calling my phone. This was the first he'd heard of me trying to reach him in the 4 hours since the first page. He gave me some simple instructions that helped get things back on track, and that was that.

2) Once I went to Norco-ville, there was a lot of nodding off on my part. Later in the afternoon, my mom and Han went out to get some things I'd need from the store (there were several of these runs) and to pick up the pup from daycare. A while later, my mom walked in--without Han or the dog. She told me not to worry, but that there'd been an incident. My car had been booted... As I am the registered owner of the car, and the owner is supposed to report to a pay location within 24 hours of the booting, this began a slew of phone calls which thankfully resulted in my dad being able to go for me. We can talk about the circumstances of my booting another time. For now, let's just say that I was not notified I was eligible for a boot, none of the tickets were deserved, and I would have continued my perfect record of winning hearings--had I not missed one, forgot to request another, and not followed up with the restaurant whose valet ran a red in my car. Lesson learned on my end. Hatred for the appropriately named Chicago Department of Revenue confirmed.

That night, my wonderful mother stayed over on the air mattress next to me sleeping sitting up on the couch. She woke me every two hours to ice and take whatever pill I needed. I was pretty much up every hour anyway... Have you ever tried to sleep without the use of your nose? I'm not talking about a cold where you're stuffy. I mean, literally, no nasal involvement in breathing... My body woke me at least once an hour because my throat and mouth were so dry. My tongue felt like a steak left out on the counter overnight, and I had to hydrate it back to life as best I could.

Anyway, I credit my mom's super strong icing beliefs for my lack of swelling and bruising. I continued not only the hospital ordered regular icing, but the mom ordered ice at night over the next few days, and I think it made a big difference...

I almost deafened my mother, but we both smiled (part 1)

Well hello there blogland. I've been away recovering for the last (almost) week. I had grand visions of blogging the process, but narcotics can really wipe a girl out. Today is my first day without any pain medication, but I still have at least one more week of extremely limited physical activity--so I should be able to catch up with the writing.
Where to begin... I suppose, where we left off. (I want to get this all down, so I may breeze through some of it without much effort at it becoming a brilliant writing piece.)
Tuesday, I started getting nervous. My brain started doing the whole, "Wtf are you doing?" dance. It said, "Technically, this surgery is all elective. Are you nuts?" I had to do a lot of reminding myself that the surgery was going to help my future tremendously, that it was necessary for the life I want. So I got up Wednesday morning, and we headed to the hospital.
I checked in at 5:57am, and the receptionist gave me a number and told me to sit and wait. 45 minutes later, we were the only ones left waiting, and she asked, "Didn't anyone ever take you to registration?" It turns out the staff got locked out, then the system crashed and had to be restarted, they were having "wacky Wednesday," and I got lost somewhere in the mix. Fantastic. I went to my little room, changed, and hopped in bed.
The weirdest thing about being prepped for surgery was the number of people all around me at the same time. There were three nurses hooking me up, asking me questions, etc. It was like a little dance, and it kept me busy. Dr. Amazing stopped by to see how I was doing and go over the plan. Then off he went to change. Dr. Dimples came next to review his part. Done and done.
You know how on medical shows, they label "this leg" and "not this leg?" Well, for noses, they slap on a removable tattoo. Dr. Resident initials it, and you're good to go. Funny.
Next came Dr. Sleepytime (the anesthesiologist). I hit the jackpot. I told him right away that I'm a professional singer, and he handled it in the most amazing way possible. First of all, he let me know that he's been doing his job for 27 years (jackpot). He let let me know that in all honesty, his asst. is one of the only people he'd let intubate him if needed. He then reviewed for me, in great detail, all of the things he would do to be extra careful, and he completely reassured me. I'm not sure if this is standard, but he even checked back after the surgery to let me know that the intubation couldn't have gone more perfectly and to see how I was feeling.
When it was time for them to take me to surgery, I started to panic a little. Ok, I was totally freaking out--airplane style. And then, about 30 seconds into our roll down the hall, I was physically unable to panic anymore. "You started my IV, didn't you?" Yep, they had.
The O.R. was freezing. I know it's supposed to get hot under the lights, but if I were a surgeon, I'd be cutting zig zag incisions my hands would be trembling so much. In fact, I was trembling. Not because I was nervous anymore, but just because I was cold, and my body wouldn't stop. Again, there were people working all around me. They put warming blankets on me, and it felt like there were cushy items being placed in all the open areas around me until I was surrounded by a sleeping bag of warmth. I remember being asked if I was comfortable, and then nothing...

Pre-op.

There's a lot on my mind, and there's a lot to do before tomorrow.
I figure I'll have a lot of writing time over the next couple of weeks. So back to work and play I go.
I very much look forward to writing to you all soon. : )