I like to think that I’m tough. Don’t we all? That we can face adverse events and unpleasant surprises without being set off course. But then a tiny little medical situation made the assumption of resiliency coming crashing down.
I had a bad nosebleed right before New Years. And then I dislodged the scab twice in the following week, causing two more bad nosebleeds. A visit to the hospital emergency room ended with my nose cauterized and packed with some gauze. A few days later, back at emerg, they removed the gauze and no more nosebleed.
Until about a week after that when I had another bad nosebleed. Cue a return trip to the emergency room, where I sat waiting for the doctor as my precious blood slowly leaked past my pinched nostrils, or dribbled down into my mouth. If I tried to talk or breathe at the wrong moment, I’d disperse a tiny shower of blood droplets in random directions.
You may not realize this, but waiting is difficult to do when your body refuses to keep its most vital fluid inside where it belongs. The nurses who checked in on me were sympathetic, which is nice but not really helpful. I don’t want you to feel bad for me, I want you to plug this leaky nose.
Now, I knew that I was objectively in no real danger. Though I was seeing way more of my blood than I ever wanted to see, it was still a minor amount. But that objective awareness did not stop the fear. And a thought of profound terror struck me as I sat hunched over a tupperware container that contained a mix of blood and bloody paper towel: if I can barely handle this trivial emergency, how will I endure it when real crisis shows up? Because everyone gets medically fragile as they grow old. I was almost brought to a complete emotional meltdown by a nosebleed. How will I get though something worse?
A strange understanding accompanied this moment of fear. This sense of powerlessness is why people turn to god. When given a choice between having no hope, or having the illusion of hope, the idea of an all-powerful being who could end your suffering instantly is very appealing. I can’t say that I stopped being an atheist, but I see why people need god in one form or another. Otherwise, you are left to the mercies of random chance and a universe that is profoundly disinterested in your continued existence.
But let’s come back down to reality from these heady realms of amateur theology. I waited no more than 10 minutes to see the doctor. He gave me medicinal cocaine to constrict the blood vessels in my nose, which was a strange way to learn that I would hate the sensation of doing coke for fun. As our Canadian medical expert the Weeknd told us, cocaine is also has anesthetic properties, so it numbs your nose and lip. I don’t care for the lack of sensation. I like feeling my face! And then the nice doctor burned the inside of my nose again to cauterize the pesky nasal arteries that were leaking, and plugged my nostril with a stiff cotton log of gauze. Feel free to refer to the gauze log as an extra large nose tampon. And it worked!
Well, mostly. My nose was still finding a way to trickle a tiny amount past the plug, which I found upsetting. So I decreed to my wife that we were returning to the ER. My decree ended up sounding a bit panicky, which understandably upset my wife. We drove back to the ER, waited about 5 minutes, and saw the same doctor. He pulled out the plug, which was moderately uncomfortable, sprayed the area down again using the clotting agent they give to trauma patients with gory serious injuries, burned a little bit more of my nose, and then escalated the plugging plan. If you thought that cramming one extra large nose tampon deep into your nasal cavity was unpleasant, imagine a second one being shoved into the very same hole. And then imagine what happens when those two stiff tubes of gauze absorb blood and snot. They swell.
So for 5 long days, I had a perpetual headache from my poor left nasal cavity being over capacity. The pressure was constant and distracting. But there was no additional blood. Hurray for that. I slogged my way through those uncomfortable days and stuffed nose nights, and then it was time to go back to emerg to have the plugs removed. I can recommend that if you have a say in when you go to the emergency room, pick 8AM on a Sunday morning. There was almost no wait at all. They prepped my usual room for me, and a new doctor came in to pull the plug.
Here’s a fun fact: your body will adjust to most ongoing conditions. So if your brain gets used to the pressure of your nose being packed, then it registers a sudden lack of that pressure as pain. I was surprised, in the worst possible way, at how much it hurt having these gross crusty bloody wads of cotton extracted from my poor, battered nose. I think a gave a tiny grunt/scream at the midway point. But they came out, and they did not bring a deluge of fresh blood with them. The lack of bleeding was a relief. The post-removal headache was not enjoyable, but it ended soon enough.
And if you’ve read this far, you’re probably hungry for an answer of why did this sudden nose crisis occur. What mysterious illness or condition turned me into a blood faucet? What caused such a prolonged ordeal? After much thought and investigation with my family doctor, we came to the most reasonable culprit.
My nose got too dry.
That’s it. Really. Dry nose led to the skin breaking, like when your capped lips start to bleed. Bad luck placed the tiny cut in my nose right on top of a fun spot called the Keisselbach plexus (or Little’s area) where several tiny arteries knot together. And then through dumb decisions like blowing my nose or breathing too hard, I subsequently dislodged the scab that had formed to stop the initial nosebleed.
So now I pay too much attention to how dry the air is, and I try to keep my nose adequately lubed up and moist at all times. It’s a strange thing to have as a priority. And just to make things more interesting, my aging body has decided to have seasonal allergies. Tree pollen now gives me a constant post-nasal drip, and irritates the lining of my nose and my sinuses. And what can that irritation cause? A tiny amount of blood in your mucus. So I’m on a low-dose nasal corticosteroid until the the trees stop molesting my immune system. But, and I say this while knocking on all the wood around me, no more nosebleeds since the winter. I’m happy about that, because I like it when my blood stays in my body. It’s easier to keep track of that way.
But as much as this very minor medical episode messed me up and traumatized me, it was manageable because of my wonderful, strong, and supportive wife. A regular Florence Nightingale! She kept me calm and hydrated as we sat in the hospital, and she kept the house and our lives running smoothly even though I was out of action. I am lucky to have a partner who cares for me when I am low. Love that woman!