How a Marble Led to My Deviated Septum

A white marble caused my deviated septum.

Growing up, I was obsessed by a handful of games and toys. Breaking Point was the ultimate. Balancing individual blue balls with thin sticks on a hanging rack of connected white balls. It was the perfect game for my concentration and lung development, since I’d wail at the top of my lungs whenever I lost.

My overall favourite were my Fisher Price Little People. I’d spend hours playing with them and my treasured Tomy Merry-Go-Copter. The concept: Little People travelled via elevator and boarded a helicopter. The Copter dropped them onto a train. Similar to Queen Elizabeth and 007’s entrance during the 2012 London Summer Games.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzdTi7pXsbA

Board games? It was Mr. Mouth and Quick, Jump, It’s a Skunk.

I was obsessed by that Skunk Game. I’d watch the little white marbles roll when they were knocked by the skunk paddles. They’d disappear for a second then reappear. Where did they go? It was a mesmerizing game of split-second peek-a-boo.

Somehow we misplaced a marble, resulting in an uneven number. Literally an odd ball. So, I took the marble to sleep on my pillow at bedtime. The next morning, I placed the marble back in the box. But the lost ball hadn’t returned. Again, the same marble slept on my pillow. For awhile.

I started to make two centimetre ball dance. Since I was a curious child, and I brought the marble to my nose. It smelled plastic-y, not skunk-like. Or as I presumed: cream soda or vanilla. Which is best because I probably would’ve eaten the marble.

Then the marble sort of pranced into my right nasal passage. When I removed the marble, the most wonderful thing happened.

My nostril seemed clearer like I’d applied a Breathe-Right Nasal Strip – before their invention. As a child, I had horrendous nosebleeds requiring hospital visits. I was convinced – much like Homer Simpson and the cloning hammock – this was a magic post-nosebleed rehabilitation marble.

Night three, I popped the marble into the same nasal passage. Breathing felt like a dream. Then I shoved the marble a smidgen too high and … oh, dear.

The marble lodged itself in my nose. I keep poking, hindering the “get the marble out” process. I leapt from bed and raced to find my parents, who were in the foyer saying goodnight to my paternal Baba and Gigi. Imagine everyone’s surprise when a barely three-feet tall child appeared with something lodged in their nose, screaming at the top of their lungs, “I camp bred! I camp bred!”

My tears sprung, making it worse. Snot rested on the marble, the rest travelled down my throat. I started to cough, thinking this is the end. I’d never own a Cabbage Patch Kid or Crystal Barbie. For real, because they weren’t launched until 1983.

Baba, calm and steady, said “Tammy, press the left side and blow. Hard!” I placed a shaky hand on my marble-free side. It work. The marble and a line of snot flew across the foyer. The ball smacked the washing machine and rolled onto the floor under the dryer. Baba hugged me, I cried, and I don’t recall anything else because of the trauma – except my nose somehow didn’t bleed.

However, the marble stretched my right nasal passage. My nose was growing before the rest of me could catch up. As a teen, I didn’t notice the stretched out nostril – just my nose. You couldn’t miss my nose.

In 2004, a doctor was examining my rosacea, part of my overall sexiness, and they said, “Do you know you have a deviated septum? One nostril is much larger than the other too.”

“What’s a deviated septum?”

“Your nose isn’t centred. Did you ever break your nose?”

I told them the marble story. The doctor said, “Well, that was silly,” and they mentioned fixing a deviated septum is covered by insurance. But I don’t want a new nose.

Plastic surgery is a personal choice, and no one should be judged for choosing this avenue. Sometimes, I’m self-conscious about my deviated septum, but I don’t want to change my appearance.

When I was younger, I loathed my nose. I admit it can be a pain. It’s a weather vain. Bright red in the cold weather. Puffing like a Puffin during allergy season. My nose expands during workouts.

My nose suits my face though. Who cares about comments and nicknames from grades five and six … and eight. And the deviated septum repair pushing doctor. While the deviated septum’s noticeable, it’s part of a story. It’s my heritage (maternal Gigi, mini-version).

I’m just grateful it was a white marble and not a Little People. I’ve heard those wooden Puppies are hard to remove.