Voyage Into The Deep - Septoplasty

In August of last year, Ben hit me with the forearm from hell while driving the lane for the game winning basket in a friendly game of hoops. Since then, I have battled with insurance companies and doctors in order to regain the ability to breathe and have a nose that doesnt make Owen Wilson's look perfect.
On January 29th, I finally got the green light to have the procedure.

I woke up early cracking jokes and making light of what was ahead of me.
Little did I know what it was really going to be like.

I arrived at the hospital at 7am and was expecting to head right in. That didnt happen.
They posted me up in a room in the children's ward. I was surrounded by Mickey Mouse curtains and pictures of teddy bears using typewriters. We switched on the tv to distract my mind and to my surprise, at 7am in the children's ward, they play horror films. I fell asleep waiting for the doctor.
When I woke up, they dressed me in a gown big enough for 3 of me, a wicked hair net, and I loaded on to the bed of doom.
After some jokes from the surgeon and a healthy dose of drugs, I was out cold.

When I woke up, I felt like someone took a sledgehammer to my face and lit a small campfire in my throat. The next 24 hours or so are kind of blurry but I do remember waking up in the middle of the night and feeling the worst pain I have ever felt. I also remember opening my eyes (or eye) and watching loads of footage of the protests in Egypt.
At around 10am on Thursday, the doctors came in to remove the packing from my nose. Now, when I say packing, what comes to mind is a little bit of gauze or something like that.
What was really being removed was about 8 inches long and 3 inches thick. I have no idea where or how that was in my face but the pain I felt while they removed it was totally impossible to describe.

After several more hours of waiting, dozing off, and suffering, I was finally released.
For the next four days, I would have gauze taped to my face, constant blood flowing out of my nose, an inability to breathe, a complete lack of appetite, no sense of smell or taste, bowel movements that would have Jed Clampet packing up the fam and heading for the "good life", and a sleep pattern that would allow me only 15 minutes of sleep on and off. I am fairly certain I have had over 10,000 dreams in the last few days featuring nearly every person I have ever met.
I am extremely lucky though. Lucky that I have not bruised at all (although I kinda wanted some black eyes..... never had them), they didnt shave my mustache (which has doubled as a blood catcher), and a support staff (of the McCarthy's) that has really taken great care of me.
On Monday I will have the splints taken out of my nose. They are basically crutches to keep my septum in place and also act as barricades against breathing. Can not wait to be rid of them.
Hopefully I will be breathing again soon.
Fingers (and nostrils) crossed.

*Complete video coverage to come