Today I visited the ENT ward at the South Infirmary Hospital in Cork to have my nose put back to where it was before boxing sparring last Tuesday evening.
I still don’t know what it is about this injury but the thought of someone pulling my face around until it cracks just doesn’t sit well with me at all. To say I was ‘a bit’ anxious would be like saying a mother in labour with triplets was ‘a bit’ pregnant. I was twitching like a well educated lamb reading the “Welcome to the abattoir” sign
Following a surprisingly short wait, I was seen by the ENT doctor. I tried my best to give him the long version of my story – anything to delay him from poking at my face. I told a couple of jokes, sang a ballad or two but when I asked him to pick a card from the deck, he stopped me and said, “Mr Griffin, what would you like me to do with your nose!?” I showed him the before and after pictures and he was set to go. I tried to show him my version of Michael Jackson’s moonwalk but he wasn’t having it. He asked me to take a seat on the treatment table and proceeded to administer the local anesthetic.
Two long clothes infused with anesthetic were rammed up my nostrils, followed by a couple of injections to the bridge of my nose. I think the doctor was mildly excited by the fear in my eyes. It was like foreplay to him. I had a flash back to a young Steve Martin playing the dentist in “Little Shop of Horrors”.
He asked if my nose was numb. I said “I fuckin hope so!” He said “Hold on to the bed here… and here”, which seemed a little strange. Perhaps he was just making sure I wasn’t in a position to punch him. Now, my distress may have altered my perception of what was going on at this point but I could swear I saw him do a few warm up exercises in the corner of the room. He started with some neck rotations, then he cracked his knuckles. He followed that with a number of sun salutations before finishing up with some shadow boxing. This was no ordinary doctor. My experience of watching “Criminal Minds” told me this man displayed classic psychopathic characteristics. He felt no remorse and took pleasure in the pain of others. I would have screamed but the anesthetic was starting to take affect. He grabbed a hold of my nose with both hands and began to push. I heard two distinct cracks but there was no end in sight for the pushing. He lowered his centre of gravity and drove into me like he was part of the Munster scrum. The bed I was holding on to began to move across the room and the heaving medic left a primal scream out of him. He said “I can’t move it back”, to which I replied “It cracked about 30 seconds ago”. He stood up and said “Oh”… My left eye brow lifted… He added “Well in that case, we’re done!”, quite pleased with himself.
A quick peek in the mirror revealed a nose which cast an equal shadow on both halves of my face. I was happy to be out of that psycho’s death clutch and I sprinted towards the door before he came back for round 2!
I’m glad to report that now my nose is back where it should be. I should be back to training straight away. Might stay away from sparring for a couple of weeks though!
Have any of you guys gone through this procedure? What was your scariest treatment?
Liam-Og Griffin 