An Ode to a Broken Nose

I had my nose broken in a mosh pit on Saturday. It's Monday night now, and it's still sore, so naturally, I've been thinking about it a fair amount. It's an interesting topic to think about, what a broken nose means, and I figured it's worth writing about.

First off, I discovered something about myself that I'm very proud of: I got headbutted in the nose by a guy in a mosh pit, and didn't get angry at him, or the accident itself. Considering my legendary temper, I'm very pleased that I appear to have grown up, and in no small measure. That's new.

Second, I don't intend to get it "fixed" unless it causes actual health problems. I mean, it's my nose. It's basically there to hold my sunglasses up and allow me to smell stuff. Half of what it smells for me, I don't like, but at least it's functional. As long as it's functional, I don't really care what shape it is.

I mean, I could worry that my nose being misshapen would have an effect on my good looks, but I don't consider myself particularly good-looking anyways. Perhaps I am, but the important thing is that nothing in my life depends on my good looks. I'm an aircraft mechanic, a good one for how long I've been at it, and my nose has nothing to do with it. Half the time, it's giving me info on what MEK and acetone smell like, and I'm not a fan.

I could go to a doctor to get it fixed, I suppose. Of course, when I walked into the doctor's office (probably the ER, because they've always got a bonesetter on duty), I'd have to drop a c-note on the counter. Then it's another to see the doctor for 15 minutes, another for the anesthetic they'd have to shoot me up with, and probably another just to mess with me. I highly, highly doubt I could get out of there without spending $400.

For a nose. A part of my face that's only there for aerodynamics. Seems, you know, kinda vain. I'm not a big fan of vanity, or doing things for aesthetic reasons. My face is lopsided to begin with, I took a terrific knock to the head when I was five when a car I was riding in got broadsided, and I was sitting in the seat that got hit most directly. My right eye is slightly lower than my left because of that accident.

So, to hell with getting it fixed for reasons of vanity. I'm not going to get prettier as time goes by anyways, to start spending money on it now would simply be, as Solomon put it, "chasing after the wind." It'd be a waste of cash.

Third, a broken nose feels a lot like having a head cold, and makes cleaning boogers out of it a lot harder. The right nasal passage got slimmed down a bit, I'm dreading my next actual head cold.

Fourth, I'm disappointed that I didn't get to have a fountain of blood when it got broken. For all the trouble of having a broken nose, it didn't bleed, which means I didn't get to use it to score sympathy points with anyone. Lame. There was a very pretty girl who performed at that show, I would have happily sat next to her and talked with her while waiting for the bleeding to stop.

Then again, blood doesn't come out of carpets, and everyone would have been all "Ermagawd, are you OK?" all night long. I'm a low-key guy, I'd have hated all the attention that didn't, you know, come from a beautiful slam poet.