Plastic Surgery Appointment
April 25-May 20, 2008
I discovered, the day before my appointment with medical center ENT’s F. and S. that Dr. F.’s assistant, K., had never made the appointment with Dr. S—the ENT plastic surgeon. I called K., in a panic. She chewed me out for bothering her in the last fifteen minutes of her day. “You should have taken care of this months ago,” she scolded. I should have? I had an appointment card written out by K., showing that I had an appointment with Dr. S. The medical center ENT Department treated me so badly, it was as if they were slamming a door in my face.
I managed to get an appointment for April 25, but I could not get it at the same time as my appointment with Dr. F. This was extremely upsetting as the plan was that the two would be operating together.
My sister was visiting from San Francisco. She went with me to the appointments with Drs. S. and F.
Dr. S. said that the bridge of my nose had atrophied away due to aging. So had the missing structure from the sides. All the loose skin on my face was due to aging. He looked at a photo of the perfect, bumpless curve of my nose pre-surgery, and said, “I think I see a bump.” Three quarters of the way through the appointment, Dr. S. asked, “When did Dr. F. do this surgery?” He thought his partner, Dr. F., had done the surgery. Thus, no damage had been done.
Later, an intern prepared me for an endoscopic exam that Dr. F. planned to do. When Dr. F. came in, he simply stared up my nostrils. I asked him if he was going to do an endoscopic exam. He said, no, he could see straight into my sinuses. He didn’t need the endoscope. My swelling had gone down, and it was now apparent that I had Empty Nose Syndrome. Dr. F. asked how my breathing was.
He said that he would not be rebuilding my septum. He suggested I use some commercial nasal sprays that have benzelkonium chloride in them.
Then he walked me to his assistant’s office, and told her to give me an appointment in five months. She gave me an appointment for September 27
Afterwards, my sister said, sarcastically, “Gee…I’m 58 and I still have the bridge of my nose.”
On May 18, I slammed my foot into a piece of heavy steel furniture. A trip to the hospital confirmed broken toes.
On May 20, I returned to ophthalmologist, Dr. C. for the third time, complaining of eye infections. Dr. C. said that the swellings beneath my eyes were inflammatory reactions to the surgery. He was not concerned abut the pus because there was none present at that moment. He repeated that it was just mucous.