A NOSE (AND EAR) FOR GRAFT

 WARNING: Post-op photos of skin surgery to follow. Turn back now if you must (you know who you are.)

One more surgery to look like this.

It wasn't enough that I had to go through two skin cancer surgeries on my right temple within months of each other last year. Thanks to my wife's eagle eye, there was another spot, this time on my right nostril, ready for the scalpel. 

And so, I found myself once again in the surgeon's chair last Friday, ready to have a bit more of my face sliced off. Unlike the other times, when the injection of the numbing agent felt like nothing more than a pinch from a child who thinks he's being funny, the shot into my nostril felt like... well, a shot into my nostril. For about seven seconds.

In case you need help.

If that doesn't sound long to you, by all means count it off while imagining a very long needle going into your nostril the whole time without stopping. The doctor apologetically explained that this pain was typical. Something about it being fibrous, I think, but I couldn't quite make out what he was saying over the screaming in my head. 

The numbing agent kicked in fairly quickly, as it should have, even going into my left upper gumline. Maybe he could pull a tooth as long as he was there!

My wife, who had gone through the same surgery on her left nostril some years ago, warned me that the surgeon would graft a small piece of skin from another part of my face onto the nose. Until then, I had to sit in the chair, bandaged up like a drunk after a bar fight, while the onsite lab studied the ex-nostril skin to make sure no further surgery was necessary.

Studying the reflection in the cellphone, I thought of those carefree childhood days of summer on the beach, being rubbed with suntan (not sunblock) lotion with an SPF of minus 10. And then when that wore off, simply roasting away in the sun until returning home with fever and chills because hey, that's what kids do!

The doctor returned with the news that he’d gotten all the cancer out on the first go-round. He let me take a look at what remained of my nose.

Whoa! Looks like a daisy grew while I was waiting for him to return. Nah, just another bandage temporarily plugging me up. If you're wondering what it looked like without it...

Yowzah! Seems I got me a third nostril! Or, as my daughter replied when I texted her the photo, Omgg😫😫.  You know it looks bad when a text has two pained emojis and two g's. (Not sure what that means. Good God? Gross gutting?)

There was no pain when he grafted part of my ear onto my nose like you'd see in a Tod Browning movie. Just a weird sewing sensation that's usually associated with a button and a shirt. 

One more round of bandaging followed, to be removed a week later. With two prescriptions in hand (antibiotics for the nose, gel for the ear) and a warning NOT TO REMOVE BANDAGES OR GET THEM WET, I walked to the subway. 

This was one of the few times I was delighted to be in public with a mask, just so that nobody could see the monster who stood before them on the Q train. And not just because of the bandages. Remember that numbing agent that went into my gumline? It had the same crooked after-effect on my mouth as Novocain.

Now I resembled the kind of people you see in the emergency room at three o'clock in the morning, only I'm on Social Security and they're on Night Train Express. I don't know how my wife could stand to look at me, let alone clean my ear twice a day. 

Bet you didn't know part of the ear's healing process involved bleeding. I'd be minding my own business watching TV when suddenly a fresh pool of blood would start sloshing inside my ear before dripping from behind the Band-Aid onto my earlobe. My wife's advice: Don't get it on the couch! 

Yesterday I returned to the surgeon, hoping I'd be able to show my bare face to the world afterwards.

Well, not yet. The new look will last a month, with the bandages on the nose and ear to be changed twice a day. At least I can shampoo now. And just as I was getting used to being an utter greaseball.

 Gov. Kathy Hochul announced on Friday the end of mask mandates throughout the state. For the rest of my fellow New Yorkers, maybe. As far as this sliced & diced specimen is concerned, a mask is not only suggested but required. I don't want any wino hitting me up for Night Train.

 

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