'I Almost Lost My Life, But I Chose To Cut Off My Nose Instead'

In 2012, I found a sore in my nostril. When I bent my head, my nose would start dripping fluids and the left side of my face would become numb. I would also begin to itch continuously.

In October 2013, I decided to visit my doctor as the itching was becoming worse, but I was told that I had an infected hair follicle in my nasal. A few months later, in January 2014, I noticed that a lump had surfaced at the side of my nose, so I went to see a nose and throat specialist, but he said that it was just a scratch.

The lump gradually became bigger over the months and I continued to see the ear, nose, and throat doctor every week from January to April of 2014. I tried six different antibiotics and I also tried putting ointment in my nose. But the lump was still there, and the condition of my nose wasn't changing.

I began to feel very scared. So, in April 2014. I went to another nose, ear, and throat specialist in Dallas and had a biopsy in late April. Two weeks later, I found out the results of the biopsy. I was showering when I received a phone call from the doctor, so I called him back. I rushed out of the shower; there was still soap in my hair. The doctor then said that I had been having many problems with my nose because I did not have an infected hair follicle or a scratch. I had cancer.

Being diagnosed with cancer

I was so devastated and shocked that I dropped the phone. I could not hear what the doctor was saying because, at that moment, all I was thinking was, "I have five children, I have a husband, and I've just been told that I have cancer in the center of my face."

It felt like there was an expiration date stamped on my face, I thought that cancer was synonymous with death; that was my immediate feeling.

I then thought that I would have to say goodbye to everyone that I love and that I was not going to watch my kids grow older. Not only did it feel like my life had flashed before my eyes, but it also felt like my children's lives had also flashed before my eyes.

The following week after my diagnosis, I had another biopsy whilst I was under sedation. I then had many scans and a partial rhinectomy nose, which is where part of the nose is removed.

During the operation, the doctors took out the first two layers of the inside of my nose, and a doctor told my husband that he believed that he had taken all of the cancerous cells out of my nose, but I would have to wait for the definite results.

But a week later, the doctor's voice had completely changed. He was talking very slowly, so I already felt that I was going to be receiving very bad news.

That's when he told me that the cancer was much worse than they had thought it was. So, he wanted me to try radiotherapy. Immediately, I said, "Why don't we just cut it all out? I don't have time to do radiotherapy every day. I need to look after my children."

The doctor then said that he did not want to permanently disfigure me by cutting off my nose, but I said, "What good is pretty if I'm dead? I'd rather be alive than pretty."

But I had also spoken to an oncologist who told me that radiotherapy was my only choice, as the cancerous cells had spread.

While I was at home watching the TV, I saw a commercial for the Cancer Treatment Centers of America. So, I called them immediately and within a week, I was in Chicago at their head and neck specialist treatment center.

When the doctor that worked there looked at my nose, she said that there were still cancerous cells there, so I had to have another partial rhinectomy. I went into another surgery not knowing if I was going to come out with a nose at all.

After the surgery, my nose was very crooked, but I was told I would still needed radiation at that point as the cancer had spread to the crevice of my nasal bone. I felt so defeated.

After further surgeries, I was told that although I was technically cancer free, my cells were in severe dysphagia, which meant that there was a very high chance that the cancer would come back. But I had missed my window of opportunity to have radiotherapy. After my final surgery, my cells were supposed to be susceptible enough for radiation to actually work, but the cells were too damaged.

At that moment, I told them to cut my nose off. I felt that I didn't have time to keep doing countless surgeries, and I wanted to be safe. Within a six-month period, I had already had five surgeries on my face.

My life-changing surgery

In November 2014, I had surgery and lost my nose. The day before, I was preparing for the surgery and one of the doctors was explaining the procedure. I suddenly broke down crying. I asked her to remind me why I, as a 37-year-old mother of five, was going ahead with the surgery. After she had explained to me again that I would most likely have cancer again, I instantly remembered.

I felt broken, thinking about how my children would see me, how my husband would see me, and how I would see myself. I had always thought of myself as a relatively vain person. So, going into the surgery, I prayed that I would see my face through God's eyes, fearfully and wonderfully made.

A week after my surgery, the oncology surgeon was taking the bandages off of my face and I immediately asked her if I could look at my face in a mirror. She was shocked, she said that the earliest a patient had ever looked at their face was a week after their surgery.

But I looked in the mirror, and I took a deep breath, and I felt like I was filled with faith. She said to me, "You really are a rockstar." I then looked at my husband, and his eyes had not changed at all. He still looked at me like I was the most beautiful woman in the world to him, and that gave me a lot of strength and power. I felt very loved by my friends and family.

Sharing my story

I often share my story on TikTok to raise awareness of nasal cancer. Many people believe that it was impossible for a human being to live without a nose, but I am living and breathing proof that it is possible.

There are a few misconceptions about not having a nose that I often clarify to people on my social media. I can breathe through the hole in my face but it tends to get a lot of airflow. So when I am in cold temperatures, I have to cover it with a gauze because it hurts to breathe and it becomes very dry.

I also cover the hole with a gauze when I sleep, so my throat doesn't become dry. Of course, I also stay away from dust and pepper. I can still shower in the same way but I have to carefully hold my head at a certain angle when I'm washing my hair so that I don't get a lot of water into the hole, because even small sprays of water can build up in my lungs, and it can cause what is known as dry drowning, which occurs when there are too many fluids in your lungs.

Sometimes, water does get into it, and when it does, it goes straight to the back of my throat. There have been times when I've gotten shampoo water in the hole and I felt a burning sensation. Getting water in the hole burns in general unless it's saline-treated.

I also have to apply my makeup differently. I apply my foundation and blend it in a brushing motion away from where my nose used to be.

People call me beautiful

I've had people randomly approach me in public while I have been out shopping. Sometimes, they tell me, "I just want to let you know that you are stunning." Some would politely ask, "Do you mind telling me what happened?"

When random people stare at me for long periods of time, I look back at them and smile. On Christmas eve, I went out for dinner with my family and a woman stopped me, and said, "I'm so sorry. I'm not trying to be patronizing, and I'm not trying to embarrass you, but I want to let you know that you are still beautiful."

Deep down, I know that it's not my face that they're seeing that makes me beautiful, it's the fact that I can still smile and hold my head up high. It's the light inside of me that they're seeing. It's not my face; it's my will to live. It's my will to survive, and nothing is more beautiful than being alive.

Tina Earls is a mother of five and a cancer survivor. She uses her social media to raise awareness of nasal cancer. You can find out more about her here.

All views expressed in this article are the author's own.

As told to Newsweek associate editor, Carine Harb.

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