Jayne Hardman, 48, shares her true life story;
I sat on the couch and cuddled my dog Cece – a beautiful black Neapolitan mastiff.
“Who’s a good girl?” I said in my high-pitched dog voice.
She wagged her tail and jumped up at me for extra cuddles.
She was 88kg so you really knew when her paws landed in your lap!
I reached down to scratch her ear and she suddenly leapt up again for more attention.
The side of her head bumped into my nose.
“Ouch, Cece, get down!” I yelled as I realised I had a nose bleed and ran to get a tissue.
“Mum, are you okay?” yelled my son, Roman, nine.
“Yes, Cece headbutted me!” I replied. “The bleeding will stop in a minute.”
But for the rest of the day my nose continued to drip blood.
I used up several boxes of tissues, but there wasn’t any pain so I was convinced it would stop soon.
When my husband, Martin, got in from work, he gasped when he saw me.
“You should go to the doctor, love,” he winced.
So the next morning I did, but I was told it was nothing serious.
My nose wasn’t even broken.
My beautiful girl Cece. She never meant any harm.
“Keep icing it and it should stop,” the doctor told me.
But it didn’t stop. For months afterwards it still bled regularly and continued to swell and disfigure.
I kept going back to my doc for tests, but he said there was nothing he could do.
Finally, two years later, I had an answer.
I had a rare autoimmune disease called Wegener’s granulomatosis.
“It’s causing your nose to collapse,” the specialist told me. “You’re lucky your dog knocked into you when she did. It’s like she knew something was wrong.”
So Cece wasn’t to blame after all!
My nostrils collapsed and my septum crumbled away.
My immune system was trying to kill off my own cells so I had to have chemo to stop it, but it made no difference.
The disease started to affect my hearing too, and I needed hearing aids fitted.
The chemo was exhausting so I’d end up spending all day in bed.
When I could muster the energy, I stood in front of my mirror and wept.
My nostrils had both started to collapse and my septum had crumbled away.
I lost the ability to smell and taste, and battled to sleep at night because it was so hard to breathe.
I hated going out as I could feel people staring and pointing at me.
“Oh my God, was it a car crash?” a stranger asked.
Another woman said, “Did your husband do that to you?”
I was given prosthetic noses to try but they looked so fake and were always slipping off.
One of the dogs found one and chewed it to pieces.
I never really liked my old nose.
Meanwhile, my nose was rotting so badly I was told it would have to be amputated completely.
I cried my eyes out.
“I’ll look like Mr Potato Head,” I sobbed.
After the surgery, I had a huge, horrific hole in the middle of my face.
I fell into a deep depression.
“You’re not going to love me anymore,” I said to Martin tearfully.
“Stop that – I’d love you if you had your arms and legs cut off!” he smiled.
Next, doctors had to implant magnets to hold the prosthetic in place.
The pain of the metal screws being tightened into my skull was excruciating.
“Any idea what kind of nose you’d like?” a nurse asked. I looked at her nose.
“Like yours, please,” I said, forcing a smile.
Actually, I’d always hated my real nose and had been nicknamed “Concord” as a kid because it was so long and pointy.
“Did you do all this to get a nose job?” Martin laughed.
Not long afterwards, I went to have the prosthetic fitted and my doctor clipped my nose onto the metal rods.
When I looked into the mirror, I yelped with excitement.
“Oh, wow!” I breathed, unable to believe how realistic it looked.
The nurse’s nose was better than my old one!
I attach my nose to the magnets on my face.
I had to take it off to sleep, so every morning I got up, brushed my teeth and steamed the hole in my face to get the mucus out.
Then I took my nose from my wooden Twinings tea box and clipped the magnets on.
They’re even making me a darker version for when I get a tan in summer!
One day, we were having Sunday dinner when I sneezed and my nose shot off and ended up between my son Todd’s legs.
We all roared with laughter.
I now make sure I hold onto it when I sneeze.
Not long afterwards, I was drinking tea and eating toast, and to my amazement I could taste them.
It was just the best feeling.
Me with my sons Roman (left) and Todd.
After five years I could finally taste my food!
My boys joke about me getting a witch’s nose for Halloween and a carrot for Christmas!
I’ve gone from being a hermit, too ashamed to leave the house, to going out every day and socialising again.
Sadly, Cece died a couple of years ago but to this day I thank her for headbutting me.
My condition could have been fatal, so she saved my life.
