Rhinoplasty - Yes or No?

It will soon be two months since I fell face first and broke my nose. I made the decision in the first ten days not to have surgery. Mostly because I hated the idea of being intubated. The swelling and bruising are long gone and the scars are fading a bit. I still haven't regained complete equilibrium though that continues to improve.

Usually when rhinoplasty is mentioned one thinks of plastic surgery to change the shape of one's nose, but in my case it would be to have normal breathing through my left nostril. That bothers me more than my appearance. At my age, who cares? But what if I were younger? That would be different.

Thinking about this reminded me of one of my highschool classmates. In every other way she was a lovely young woman - good figure, caring disposition, friendly, but not too outgoing. And that was because of her nose. It had a very pronounced upward turn at the tip - something she was very conscious of and which bothered her. 

I don't remember where she went after graduation, perhaps Omaha to work in one of the insurance companies. I also don't remember if she came back to any of the class reunions. If she did it was one of the early ones - five year or ten year. But at some point when class reunion letters were sent out and alumni were encouraged to write a letter telling about their lives if they couldn't return in person, she wrote a letter. I think it was our 15 or 20 year reunion. And the main thing she wanted to share was that she had had her nose fixed. 

I also remember that she had married and moved to California where her husband was involved in the film industry - a screenwriter, maybe? He was quite a bit older than she and it took awhile before I remembered his name. But I found her sister-in-law's obituary online which gave me enough info to know she has a different last name now and lives in Utah. 

I remember when my Mom was in her 80's and reconnected with a woman she went to grade school with at Hacklebarney. They were both so pleased to be corresponding with one another. I wonder what Dorothy would think to know one of her old classmates was thinking about her? If I was certain of an address I might write her a letter. She's already 80 and I soon will be. History does repeat itself.