My First Time

Upon learning about sinus rinsing, I was hesitant. The thought of shooting water through my sinus made my stomach turn. Even though I knew it carried great health benefits, I was reluctant. Even after my first visit to an ENT and I was handed a rinse bottle, I didn’t want to do it.

My first attempt pre sinus surgery left me in tears. Once I readied the bottle for the rinse, I just stared at it. I brought it up to my nose a couple times, and then walked away from it. Finally, I mustered the courage to just do it. Since I already knew my left sinus had serious problems, I started on the right side. At the aforementioned first ENT appointment, the doctor was not able to put the scope in my left sinus at all. That was kind of a sign.

So, shooting water up my right nostril I go. From everything I had read about rinsing, I knew the water was supposed to go in on one side and out the other. I shot the water up and it came right back down. Not what I was expecting. I tried again and had the same result. I attempted rinsing on my left side and the water didn’t even seem like it could enter my nostril. Again I tried, and the water went everywhere except where it needed to.

I started bawling. That ENT appointment ended with a prescription for a CT scan and a referral for a surgeon. I was okay with the CT scan, but the idea of having surgery terrified me. The idea that I would never breathe correctly without it, terrified me even more. My epic failure at rinsing proved what I had known in my gut for quite some time. Something was truly with my nose.

Four Years

This is a week to celebrate. Sunday marked the fourth anniversary of my Endoscopic Sinus Surgery. It has been quite a battle to get to this day, but with each year I am getting stronger.

I woke up the morning of February 3, 2009 terrified. I knew that by the time I returned to my bed that evening, I would be forever changed. The hours after my surgery are foggy, but the memory that stands out the most is waking up after surgery. I was just coming to after being out for four hours; I could hear the nurses talking amongst themselves as they waited for me to wake. In the moments before I opened my eyes, relief washed over me. It was the best feeling to wake and know the months of anxiety since first learning I would need surgery if I ever wanted to breathe normally again were over. I had made it through.

I thought that was the best feeling possible. It was, until the next week. After my splints were out, I took my first real breath. Fresh air flowed through my sinuses and filled my lungs. Now that was the best feeling possible. And it was here to stay.