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Drag Queens and Broken Noses

2 March, 2009

I’ve decided that I’ve had enough of my nose. I’m not talking about anything so vain as rhinoplasty! I’ve lived with the fact that I can’t breath out of it properly for nearly 15 years and enough is enough. I’ve seen the doctor once before about it, he prescribed a spray. It didn’t help.

The reason I can’t breathe correctly through it is because it was broken about 15 years ago and was never set correctly. It’s not crooked or bent or anything like that, it’s just that the two openings in my skull where air passes through down to the lungs are smaller now than they used to be because of the healed fracture.

Consequently I now can’t breathe comfortably whilst eating, I now snore like an aircraft taking off and I can’t walk and eat at the same time, I just can’t breathe through my nose as well as I could before it was broken.

I’m going to make another appointment to see the doctor and ask him about having surgery to reopen my nose. I’ll report back what the doctor says. But while we’re on the subject I may as well recount the story of how my nose was broken in the first place and what drag queens have to do with it.

dragqueenI’d gone out with a small group of friends to a nightclub in Leeds called Confetti’s, it was a regular once a month gay night and usually had some big names as PAs. I first saw Take That there before they became famous. This particular night was a cold one and so I’d gone with a coat, to which I’d handed in at the coatcheck at the start of the evening. I seem to remember that the PA this particular evening was the group M People. I had been having a good night, did lots of dancing, socialising and lots and lots of drinking.

As the night started to end and M People had finished their final set on stage, my friends and I started to queue for our coats. I was stood behind a rather tall drag queen. Remember I’d had lots to drink and was not thinking straight. My friends were laughing and joking and generally behaving as a small group of drunken people might do.

A few started to crack jokes about the drag queen, and one thing led to another and before I knew it I’d pulled the drag queen’s wig off. I know it was a nasty and silly thing to do, there’s no excuse and I hold my hand up and freely admit I was being a complete drunken arse.

The drag queen also agreed with me and head butted me for my audacity. I deserved it. My nose was well and truely broken. Four hours in A&E  (ER for my US readers) later and I left the hospital in the cold light of dawn with a big white plaster over the bridge of my nose. Ever since then I’ve had a constant reminder never to pick a drunken fight with a drag queen and I never did see my coat again…!

ps. drag queen in picture not actual one as described in the incident above!

2 Comments leave one →
  1. 2 March, 2009 12:22 PM

    Sorry to snort at your misfortune but that is a good story. Look on the bright side. Something to tell the grandchildren…

    Mike Says:- would these be imaginary grandchildren..! :o)


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