My go-round with the Mohs Procedure on my nose left a nasty scab and, worst than that, the prospect of a significant scar and a nostril so deformed that it might eventually collapse. That seemed like a bad idea so I consulted a plastic surgeon. Last Friday, I had a little plastic surgery.
And by a little, I mean that there are 12 stitches and it looks horrid. This was as promised by the plastic surgeon, who told me before we began, "It's going to look a whole lot worse before it looks better. But it will look better."
Sounds like fun! I started with a divot on my nose scabbed over and unpleasant looking. In this picture, you can see that my nostrils are no longer an even match, so I was confident that the surgery was warranted.
As if the world doesn't have enough problems, there is a prospect that a profane 46 year old lesbian would be the mama to the second coming? Frightening. I passed the pregnancy test and then T and I repeated the nurse's line all weekend long.
The first day after surgery featured plenty of swelling and some oozing along the line of stitches, seen here coated in Bacitracin, per the doctor's requirement.
On the morning of day 4, it's looking and feeling better, though I am hardly a glamour girl.
It looks far worse than it feels; the discomfort is controlled with ibuprofen. So I am taking this nose with me to work this morning. No doubt the middle schoolers will have some rich comments. Stitches come out on Wednesday and I expect that soon enough I will forget these few weeks. Though I think we can safely conclude that my commitment to sunscreen will be on-going.