My Brutally Honest Septoplasty & Sinusplasty Recovery Timeline

Day 1: Surgery Day – Septoplasty & Sinusplasty Begin

So here’s how day one of my deviated septum and sinus surgery recovery started…

Originally, my surgery was set for 12:30 PM — which would’ve sucked because I wasn’t allowed to eat or drink anything after midnight. That’s a long time to go without food when you’re already stressed about surgery. But thankfully, the night before, I got a call saying two people had canceled, and they moved me up to 8:00 AM. I had to arrive at 6:40 AM, which honestly made the no-eating part a lot easier. Midnight to 6:40 AM is a whole lot more manageable than waiting until noon.

Pre-Surgery: Gross Nose Spray & Anxiety

Before heading back to surgery, they had me use this nasty-tasting nose spray several times. It wasn’t unbearable, but definitely not pleasant. Tasted like bitter chemicals draining down your throat — a good reminder that sinus surgery isn’t going to be pretty.

Once they got me prepped, I was rolled back, and next thing I knew… I was out cold under anesthesia. Surgery lasted about 1.5 hours, and I woke up later with a foggy head and a sore face.

Good news? I didn’t remember any of it, and I was thankful for that.

The Stents from Hell (And Nobody Warned Me)

Here’s where things turned from “not too bad” to “what the heck is this?”

I woke up and immediately felt something massive stuffed in my nose — the nasal stents. I hadn’t been warned they’d put those in, at least not clearly. I thought maybe some dissolvable packing or gauze, but not these plastic, uncomfortable stints holding my nostrils open like scaffolding.

The worst part?

• Every time I moved my upper lip even slightly, I could feel them pressing inside my nose
• They created constant pressure, burning, and sharp nerve pain
• I could feel every single breath bouncing off the inside of my nose like it was echoing through a tunnel full of pain

These things made even the idea of sleep impossible. Breathing through my nose? Forget it. Not even a chance.

The Stitches: Burn, Baby, Burn

I also quickly noticed that the stitches inside my nose were burning like crazy. The pain wasn’t just surface-level soreness — it was sharp, stinging, and deep, especially where the septum was cut and stitched.

If I even slightly scrunched my nose, yawned, or shifted my face, that burning pain would spike hard. The worst part was right behind the nose — where it connects to the upper lip and roof of the mouth.

That spot? Felt like it had a nerve just zapping non-stop.

Quick List: What Day 1 Felt Like

1. Face sore but manageable (thanks to numbness still lingering from surgery)
2. Stents in nose = constant pressure and stabbing pain
3. Stitches burned like fire in the nostril walls
4. Couldn’t breathe through nose at all
5. Nose hairs weren’t trimmed, and dried blood/clots already getting stuck in them made everything worse
6. Throat felt dry and gross from breathing through mouth nonstop
7. Wasn’t hungry but started getting headache from not eating

Nose Hair Pain = The Surprise Nobody Warned Me About

Let me just say this: they should trim your nose hairs before surgery. Or at the very least, tell you to do it yourself. Because as soon as the dried-up blood and crusty boogers start forming (and trust me, they form fast), they latch onto your nose hairs like cement.

Trying to get any of that out later on hurts like crazy because those hairs are anchored right into tender, swollen, stitched-up tissue.

You’ll be pulling dried junk that’s wrapped around raw stitches and inflamed skin, and it feels like ripping out thorns embedded in your flesh.

Not exaggerating.

Overall Pain Level on Day 1

I’d rate Day 1 pain about a 5 to 6 out of 10 — not because it wasn’t bad, but because the numbing from surgery was still helping a bit. That was about the only reason I wasn’t already crying on Day 1.

But I could already feel that things were going to get rough.

My face was starting to swell, my nose felt like a brick, and I was quickly realizing this wasn’t going to be one of those easy “you’ll feel better in a couple days” kind of recoveries.

Day 2: Fog, Pain, and a Whole New Level of Miserable

I woke up on day two after my deviated septum and sinus surgery, and I could already tell this was going to be worse than day one. My face was stiffer. The pain was sharper. And everything felt ten times heavier — like someone had packed my skull with concrete.

The Pain Meds Routine

I was rotating between:

• Hydrocodone
• Ibuprofen
• Tylenol

Taking them like clockwork.
Literally every 2 hours, I was cycling something into my system just to try and stay ahead of the pain.

My pain routine looked like this:

1. Hydrocodone
2. Two hours later: Ibuprofen
3. Two hours after that: Tylenol
4. Two hours later: back to Hydrocodone
   …and so on.

Still — even with all that — I was hovering around a 7 to 8 out of 10 pain almost all day. It never fully broke. The meds didn’t really take the edge off. They just barely kept me from losing my mind.

Feeling Drunk, Dizzy, and Dried Out

The meds didn’t just make me groggy — they made me feel drunk, slow, and kind of out of body.
It was hard to talk. Hard to focus.
Even trying to swallow or open my mouth hurt, because any facial movement at all tugged on the tissue around my nose and lips.

I noticed something weird too — my nose was getting insanely dry, even though I was still using the saline spray and rinses they gave me.

Nasal Rinses: Torture in a Bottle

They tell you to flush your nose at least six times a day with the saltwater rinse.

Sounds easy enough, right?

Nope.

When you have plastic nasal stents jammed inside your nose, getting anything to spray from one side to the other is basically impossible.

You aim the bottle into one nostril and press…
And instead of it flushing through and clearing you out, it just backs up, stings, and spills everywhere.

It felt like forcing ocean water into a brick wall and hoping it finds a tunnel.

Not only did it not work well — it hurt like hell. Saltwater against raw, stitched-up, swollen tissue? Not a good time.

Bonus Agony: Long-Distance Travel for a Back EMG Test

Because I apparently enjoy suffering, I had to ride in a car for three hours on Day 2 to go get an EMG test for my back.
If you’ve never had one — it involves lying flat while they poke your muscles with needles and test your nerves.

So imagine this:

• Still swollen and stitched from nose surgery
• High as a kite on pain meds
• Numb, dry, dizzy
• Now lying flat while someone sticks electrodes and needles into your spine

Zero stars. Would not recommend.

Constipation Starts Creeping In

I usually go to the bathroom 2 to 3 times a day — but by the end of Day 2, I hadn’t gone once.
Even though I was already taking stool softeners, nothing was happening.

The pain meds slow everything down, and it turns your whole body into a sluggish, bloated mess.

It’s not just uncomfortable — it adds pressure, especially when you’re already tense, swollen, and sore in the face and neck.

Quick Recap: What Day 2 Felt Like

1. Pain level 7–8 out of 10, constantly
2. Pain meds rotating every 2 hours, but still barely helping
3. Nose was dry and stiff, no airflow at all
4. Nasal rinse was painful and nearly impossible
5. Mouth movement = pain, so I couldn’t talk or eat well
6. Felt drugged and couldn’t think clearly from the meds
7. Took a 3-hour road trip for a painful EMG test on top of it all
8. Constipated already, and that bloated feeling was creeping in
9. Still couldn’t sleep more than an hour or so at a time

Day 3: Rock Bottom — The Worst Day of My Recovery

I don’t say this lightly — day 3 was pure hell.

If day 1 was tolerable and day 2 was rough… day 3 felt like I got hit by a truck, then the truck backed over me and parked on my face.

Everything hurt. My entire face, cheeks, nose, under my eyes, lips, gums — it was all on fire. No position gave relief. No combination of meds could fully knock the pain down. I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t talk, and I was getting more swollen by the hour.

And I’m telling you this as a guy who’s been through plenty.

I’ve Had Surgeries Before — This Was Worse

For context:

• I’ve had a disc replaced in my neck
• Ingrown toenail surgery
• All my teeth removed and 10 implants placed because of lifelong GERD
  (yeah, that one sucked too)

But this?
This deviated septum and sinus surgery recovery, especially day 3, was hands-down the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.

Pain Level? Solid 9… Sometimes 10

I don’t take pain level 10 lightly, not sure if I have ever said my pain level is at a 10 as to me 10 is you feel like your drying and want to cry or scream or even both!

By now, my nose was completely rock hard, twice its normal size, and bright red.
I was living with ice packs on my face, but even touching my skin hurt. The cold helped numb it some, but I’d get frostbite-like burning after 20 minutes. Still, the ice was better than nothing.

The stents inside my nose felt like they were expanding, pressing against everything.

The worst area of pain?

• Where your nose meets the upper lip
• Behind your front teeth
• Roof of your mouth

That deep nerve pain there? It’s a different kind of awful.
Burning, stabbing, throbbing — all at the same time. It felt like electricity shooting through my upper face.

Desperate for Relief, I Doubled Down on Meds

By this point, I had already been maxing out my rotation of:

• Hydrocodone
• Ibuprofen
• Tylenol

But it wasn’t doing much. So I called the ENT, barely able to talk through the pain, and finally — they sent in a prescription for oxycodone.

Even with that stronger med, I was still only able to get my pain down to a 7 at best, and that was after doubling up:

• 2 hydrocodone
• 1 oxycodone
• Ibuprofen
• Tylenol
• And even 2 Lyrica, which I’d had before for nerve pain

That combination would knock most people flat. But me?
Still sitting at a 7 to 9 pain level, white-knuckling my way through the hours.

The Breakdown: Pain + Emotion

I’m a tough guy. I don’t cry easily.
But on the evening of day 3, it broke me.

I stood up to hug my wife, trying to keep it together — and I just lost it.
Full-on tears, which made the pain worse because crying moves your face. My nose throbbed, the pressure spiked, and the burning inside my sinuses flared up to a 10.

I finally collapsed into my recliner, stacked up pillows, and doubled my pain meds, just to get a small break.

The Nose is Now a Brick Wall

Breathing through my nose? Still impossible.
Using saline spray or nasal rinse? Pointless.

My nose was so dry and clogged, I was basically spraying saltwater against a brick wall.
Nothing came out the other side. Nothing loosened up. It just burned and made me cough.

You could see the crusted blockage right at the edge of my nostril — like a wall of dried blood and mucus cemented in place.

Trying to get it out?
Yeah, good luck with that when your nose hairs are tangled in it, and your whole face screams when you touch it.

Still No Poop = More Pressure

As if all that wasn’t enough… I still hadn’t had a single bowel movement.

Normally, I go a few times a day.
But between all the pain meds, lack of movement, and dehydration, I was now on day 3 with zero poop — even with stool softeners on board.

The bloating was real, and I could feel the pressure building in my gut, which just made everything else feel worse.

Quick Recap: Day 3 in All Its Awful Glory

1. Pain level 9 out of 10, peaking at 10 during crying spells
2. Entire face swollen, nose was twice normal size
3. Stents felt unbearable, like plastic knives up my nostrils
4. Roof of mouth and behind teeth pain was brutal
5. Still no poop, causing major bloating and pressure
6. Still couldn’t breathe, talk, or sleep for more than an hour
7. Ice packs helped, but only for 20 minutes at a time
8. Needed multiple pain meds, including oxycodone + Lyrica
9. Cried from the pain, and it made it worse
10. Nasal rinses still not working, just burning against dried blockages

I’ll say it again — day 3 broke me.
This wasn’t a “mild recovery” or “just a sore nose.” This was a nerve-shredding, emotionally draining, full-body misery.

Is this normal? I don’t know.
Should it be? Definitely not.

Day 4: Still Miserable, Still Swollen, Still No Poop

Here I am, four full days into recovering from deviated septum and sinus surgery… and it still feels like I got jumped by a baseball bat to the face. If you were hoping Day 4 would bring some sweet relief, sorry — not here. Not yet.

The pain’s still riding at about a solid 8 out of 10, especially right behind my upper lip and deep into the roof of my mouth. That sharp, burning nerve pain hasn’t let up. And I still can’t breathe, I still can’t sleep, and yep — I still haven’t pooped.

The Swelling Just Won’t Stop

Let me paint the picture for you:

• My nose is rock hard, about twice the normal size
• The area under my eyes? Puffy and tight
• My entire mid-face looks like I’ve been in a 12-round boxing match

And it’s not just swelling — it’s hot, tight, and throbbing constantly.

I’ll be honest with you — I look awful.
I’ll even be adding a photo to this post (even though I look like a bloated zombie) just so you can see the truth of what this recovery looks like.

This is the stuff no one shows you on those “easy septoplasty recovery” blog posts. Those folks clearly didn’t go through what I’m going through.

Ice Packs Are My Best Friend… and My Enemy

Still doing the ice pack rotation like it’s a full-time job. I’m using:

• Soft packs for under the eyes
• Bigger packs across the nose and cheeks

But here’s the deal — while the coolness helps, the skin starts to burn after about 15-20 minutes. So then it’s a choice:

1. Deal with the ice burn, or
2. Deal with the face-throbbing pain

Most of the time? I pick the ice burn. Because this sinus surgery pain just doesn’t let up.

Still No Sleep Worth Talking About

Even now, I’m averaging maybe:

• 1 hour of sleep at a time
• 3–4 hours total a night, if that

Between the face pain, the clogged nose, and the medication fog, true sleep isn’t happening. I’m just kind of fading in and out, hunched in my recliner, with ice pressed to my face and the humidifier running full blast.

The Nose is Beyond Dry

Despite the saline sprays, my nose is drying out worse than ever. And the worst part?

The spray doesn’t go anywhere. I’m literally misting saline into a dried, blood-crusted wall inside my nostril that’s sealed like concrete.

Trying to breathe in?
Still not happening.

Trying to rinse?
Doesn’t work.

Trying to dig anything out?
Don’t even think about it. With how painful this area is — and the nasal stents still jammed in there — even touching the edge of the dried stuff sends sharp stabs through my face.

Humidifier = Small Relief

The one small thing I’ve found that kind of helps?

I’ve started sitting directly over a humidifier, letting the mist hit my nostrils. I can’t breathe through them, but I’m hoping the moisture softens up the dried blockages a little bit.

Has it helped?
A little. But only after sitting there for 30–45 minutes at a time.

It’s not a miracle fix, but at this point I’m desperate enough to try anything.

Mouth Pain, Talking Hurts, and… Still No Poop

By now, even talking hurts.
Opening my mouth to eat or speak pulls on the whole area under my nose. Chewing is hard, and drinking is no fun either. It’s like my upper lip and teeth are all plugged into the same angry nerve.

And the poop situation?
Still zero movement.

• On Day 4, I still hadn’t pooped once since surgery
• I’m on stool softeners, drinking fluids, and eating a little
• Still nothing

The bloating is now its own kind of misery. Add that pressure to the upper body pain and you’ve got a recipe for full-body frustration.

Quick Recap: What Day 4 Was Like

1. Pain steady at 8/10, mostly upper lip and nasal floor
2. Nose still double-sized, red, swollen, and hard
3. Still can’t breathe, still can’t sleep properly
4. Crusting inside nose is sealed solid, nothing gets through
5. Mouth movement and chewing make things worse
6. Ice packs help briefly, but burn skin after 20 minutes
7. Sitting over humidifier gives small relief
8. No bowel movement for 4 days, despite stool softeners
9. Exhausted, emotional, and still in survival mode
10. Still zero idea if this will be worth it in the long run

By day 4, I honestly felt like I’d made no progress, just got better at tolerating a new level of pain. It’s frustrating because nobody warned me it would be like this.

This isn’t just “oh, you had sinus surgery, you’ll be fine in a couple days.”
This is serious, long, painful healing — and I’m doing everything I can just to make it to day 5.

Maybe now you’re starting to see why I got the idea to start this website Sinus Struggles…