There's Nothing Like Having a Camera Up Your Nose

I had a camera in my nose this morning. It was not painful because the area had been numbed by having a Q-tip in my nose. My nose had an interesting morning. More specifically my right nostril which suffered the twin invasions.

I will now answer some obvious questions. First question: Was the filming being done for a new avant-garde movie that will be premiering in the West Village in October where everyone will be wearing berets and drinking Campari? First answer: Nope. Second question: can I post the video either on this blog or on You Tube? Second answer. Nope. Final question: Why did a camera enter your right nostril? Third Answer: Because of a scratchy throat.

Yes, I’ve had what I’ve chosen to call, Raspy Voice Syndrome for about nine months now. It has been accompanied by what I’ve chosen to call, Dry Throat Syndrome. This has not been a serious illness. The worst of is that I’ve had to take a lot of cough drops while teaching and it has been difficult for to me properly express my opinion as vociferously as I’d like at sporting events. Of course the quarantine has kept me both from teaching and witnessing athletic competitions so it’s not been a big deal. Still worth looking at, which was done with a camera through my nose.

I make it a point to always be a good patient whether I’m seeing my GP, the dentist, a dermatologist, gastroenterologist, podiatrist, cardiologist, psychiatrist, optometrist, urologist or medicine man. I’m not sure why it’s important to me but it is. It sure doesn’t hurt to make a nice impression on a person in whom you entrust, you knee, or testicles, or skin, or eyes or intestinal tract or id or as today, your ear, nose and throat. I am polite and cooperative and try to minimize my screams of agony.

Today was my first visit to a otolaryngologist, which, I’ve been given to understand, is what an ear, nose and throat doctor is formally called. She was, like about 99% of health care workers I’ve encountered in my adult life, a most pleasant person (don’t get me started on the 1%, Dr. Sawbones, a quackologist, was a real pill). I described my symptoms and she patiently listened before informing me that she was going to have to take a look see (not her words). This meant, she told me blithely, taking a look at my throat via a camera that would be inserted through my nose. I was not amused. Indeed the very idea sent a chill down my spine. I expressed my unease as politely as possible and the doctor assured me that it would be just fine and that she would numb my nose first by inserting a Q-tip in the orifice. This did not cause to leap for joy.

I sat for a few minutes with the aforementioned Q-tip -- doubtless laced with pain killer -- sitting idly in my nose. The doctor absented herself for a minute or two and I sat hoping no paparazzi would come by to snap an embarrassing photo. None did.

Then came the camera which I chose not to study at any length. The less I knew the better, I reasoned. The doc said filming (not her words) would take precisely a minute. I was to breath through my nose and occasionally I was asked to swallow. I got updates on time which, when your throat is being filmed, flies by.

It took nanoseconds for her to provide a diagnosis. The good news was that there was no lumps, growths or Bougainvilleas in my throat. I’d never really considered that there was, so this information didn’t impress me. She did say that my throat ailment was caused in large part by the acid reflux I suffer from and that one of my meds contributed to the dry throat. I’m to drink even more water daily than I already do, not clear my throat is often, double my Aciphex (taken for the acidity) make six to eight visits to a speech therapist and abstain from eating raw barracuda. There were a couple of other odds and ends but they are not here worth mentioning.

That was, as they say, that. I checked out and was told my health insurance does not require a co-pay during the pandemic (bless them) so I saved a double sawbuck. I skipped merrily out of the office to my darling wife who breathlessly awaited my return while sitting in the car. Actually I rather doubt she was breathless.

I’ve of course since returned home and have been drinking gallon upon gallon of water. I slosh when I walk.

Also this was haircut day for me and since the quarantine I’ve been unable to see Nina, my hair stylist so my wife has had to assume the duties which she did today for a second time. My darling managed the feat without cutting off either ear. It was altogether a comfortable experience, far better than having a camera in your proboscis.