My experiences having a deviated septum, and getting it repairedSeptember 27, 2012
Intro
I'm writing this on the day of surgery, after coming home from the hospital. Sometimes when I have interesting life experiences, I get a strong urge to journal. Beware that I tend to be very wordy, off topic, and record details that seem unimportant. ie. Making this journal is more for my own pleasure and likely too much detail for other people to find interesting.
What is a deviated septum?
The septum is the cartiledge in your nose between your nostrils. Although this is rarely perfectly straight in individuals, it can sometimes be very crooked. This can affect breathing, and typically alters the external appearance of the nose.
Growing up with a deviated septum, and a possible cause
At some point growing up it become more apparent (from the outside) that my nose wasn't straight. Perhaps this was as early as 9-10 years old, although it might have been earlier, and it become more evident as I aged.
Even as a 3-4 year old, my deviated septum was noticeable from the inside. I have a fairly vivid memory of being 3-4 years old, laying on the floor near the front door at 23 Oxford, noticing that I could pick my nose through one nostril but not the other. I also recall being somewhat surprised, although I don't know whether I'm constructing that memory. I was a very frequent nose picker as a child, so if this memory of being surprised is accurate, it's interesting. ie. Does the surprise imply that there was a change? And if there was a change, what caused it?
I had one significant nose trauma that I can remember from around that time of my life, which was when I jumped onto a spinning ride at the Turkey Point park while it was already spinning quickly. I wasn't successful and hit my nose hard on one of the radial bars. My nose bled a lot and I cried for at least an hour.
To connect that to my nose picking memory, I have a vague sense that the surprise discovery of my deviated septum was in September, as if Rebecca had recently gone back to school and I was still at home. If that is the case, and if my nose trauma was in August, this might explain the deviated septum. But we'll probably never know.
What was it like on the inside?
Hopefully I don't have this backwards: The septum veered sharply to my right at the top of my nose and closely followed the right wall of the right nostril. It then bent back towards the centerline of my body and connected to the base of my nose approximately where it should, but on somewhat of an angle.
This made my left nostril enlarged and made my right nostril smaller. Towards the top of my right nostril, it became extremely narrow. If I plugged my left nostril, I could only breath through my left nostril only if I breathed very slowly, otherwise the nostril would collapse due to the force of air movement. Breathing through my left nostril was also slightly compromised. Being larger and less well supported than it should, the force of air movement tended to slightly collapse the airway as I breathed.
Should I get it fixed?
Around the time I finished high school, or perhaps during my university years, my mom expressed some concern. As a coping mechanism, I would sometimes pinch the lateral wall of my left nostril and pull while taking a rapid deep breath. I did this because I felt like I wasn't getting enough air. An unpleasant side affect of this was the sound it made -- the sudden rush of air made a fairly loud noise and was disturbing to those around me. Mom wondered whether this might be a distraction for my coworkers once I was in the working world.
I think I was somewhat opposed to the notion of getting it fixed at that time. I was used to having it, and I think I was concerned that any surgery carries some risks. Would it be worth it? It was also probably the standard reverse psychology reaction: If you interpret someone's suggestion as applying any pressure, it is natural human psychology to "push back".
Random memory: Mental control over the shape of the nose
We don't think of being able to move our nose, but there are subtle ways to control muscles that flare the nostrils. Sometimes while breathing, I would slightly activate those muscles to increase the size of the airways. Activating those muscles also has the affect of "stiffening"/supporting the outer walls of the nose, helping to prevent the collapsing of my nostrils while I breathed in.
Random memory: Habit of pushing against my nose
One of my memories from the days of working at Navtech was that from time to time I had the habit of applying pressure to my nasal bones. I would place my thumb on the bone and push with a decent amount of force. I'm not exactly sure what promtped this, but it somehow felt therapeutic, almost as if it helped improve my breathing. I think I would typically push in the direction against the curvature. Part of my interpretation of this too was that it was like wearing braces, where force applied over time can reshape bodily structures.
Recommendation from a friend
After a game of hockey, a former Navtech colleague basically said, "I think you have what I had: a deviated septum. I had mine repaired and I would strongly recommend that surgery to you. It has made a big difference for me".
His recommendation was very sincere and heart felt. I hadn't really been considering the surgery at that point, but given his recommendation I was sold.
Consultation with Dr. Banerjee
I made an appointment with Dr. Banerjee and I believe the word out of his mouth when he took a look up my nose was "wowzers", or something to that affect, which made me smile. Because my situation was more severe than the typical case, the name of the surgery would be "partial rhinoplasty", and with the term "rhinoplasty" in its name, he would need permission from the government before OHIP would cover it. The government wants to avoid paying for people who are looking for cosmetic surgery. I left Dr Banerjee's office with the understanding that he would be in communication with the government and would let me know when he got a response.
Dr Banerjee explained that fixing the deviated septum wouldn't change the appearance of the nose, which was just fine by me.
Waiting
From time to time as the months past, I would think "it has been a long time, I wonder why I haven't heard back". But I wasn't in a rush, so I kept waiting. After a year, I still hadn't heard back, and I figured I should call the office to inquire on the status. But whenver this would come to mind during the day, I would be at work busy with something. Finally, after a year and a half, Meredith successfully prodded me to get in touch with them. I only got voice mail, so left a message.
I waited for some time again, although I'm not sure how long. A few weeks? A couple of months? Word came that they had phoned my parents place in Woodstock to say that they had now submitted the form to the government, and would contact me when they got a response. Odd.
Meredith had a friend who had dealt with Dr. Banerjee's office and suggested that it was adviseable to continually call them, otherwise things don't progress very quickly.
Second consultation with Dr. Banerjee
Finally we got the call that the government had approved the operation, and I was requested to come and see Dr. Banerjee a second time. He had a student with him that day, and this time when he explained the procedure, he told his student doctor that there is a saying "as the septum goes, so goes the nose", indicating that fixing the septum would cause my nose to appear somewhat straighter. This was a bit of a different tune than I had heard during my first consulation, but having a somewhat straighter nose was a bonus, so that was nice to hear.
The whole visit lasted < 5 minutes. The main conversation point was for him to explain that 1% of patients end up with a small hole between their nostrils that causes a whistling sound while they breathe. Oh boy. That sounds like a very bad outcome. He also indicated that it is very difficult to repair the hole if it occurs. I decided the risk was low enough that I would proceed with the surgery.
Because there had been a cancellation, it was only going to be about 2 weeks before I was going to be able to have the surgery!
Struggling with the risks
Over the course of the next couple of weeks, I struggled a bit with knowing whether having the surgery was the right thing to do. Obviously people that have a whistling outcome wish they hadn't had the surgery, and perhaps they even feel dumb for electing to have a surgery to correct what is a relatively minor problem all things considered.
Even now as I'm home recovering and it would appear that the surgery went well, it's not clear to me whether taking the risk was the right decision. That's a tough one to judge -- having a whistling nose would have been a huge, huge negative.
My experiences at the hospital: Getting ready and waiting
I was schedule to go in at 11:15 am and have sugery at 2:15 pm, but we got a call shortly before 10 saying that they had a cancellation and wanted me to come in as soon as I could.
Within 15 minutes, Meredith, Hazel and I were on our way to St. Mary's Hospital. We took a seat and were called up after < 15 minutes to check in and answer a list of questions. Soon after, we were moved to a second waiting room, and within minutes we were moved again to bay 8 where I could put on my gown, get weighed and measured, and situated on my hospital bed.
My primary nurse was a student named Sue, who was a decade or so older than typical student nurses. Her instructor's name was Mary. Sue was a very pleasant lady with a nice smile and an easy going disposition. It made me smile observing her be careful and methodical about everything she did, from being careful not to mix up her left and right while putting my arm bracelet on, to recording my weight and height using a pen on her palm so that she wouldn't forget before she had a chance to record the number on my paperwork. She wore bright teal/blue pants, and it was quite cute how the color of the shocks on her Nike Shox were an identical teal/blue. Totally by coincidence, she says, but joked that she had several pairs of Nike Shox to match each outfit.
The instructor Mary's personality came across as less easy going and bit more focused on efficiency/speed, but she was also very pleasant and shared a few smiles. Meredith observed a bit of tension between Mary and Sue, as if Mary was wanting Sue to work more quickly, which would fit with the observations I make above, but I didn't pick up on any tension. If Meredith is correct, it is easy for me to empathise with Sue.
While I waited, I was reading the book "Not Your Parents' Offering Plate: A New Vision For Financial Stewardship". I have enjoyed the subject matter of the book, and agree with many things that he says, although the author's tone has rubbed me the wrong way a fair bit. His vision for pastors is that they should A) Know how much everyone in the church is giving, and B) That an extremely important role for them is as fundraisers. I'm not opposed to (A), and think it might just be a good idea, although I felt like he didn't hit on one of the obvious reason that this is avoided: That it quite possibly easy for pastors to become preoccupied and distracted with money issues, and that knowing how much a person is giving might even distract a pastor in their interations with that person, taking focus away from other more important matters. As for (B), I struggle with that, possibly because asking people for money is an area of extreme discomfort for me. I think the author nails this on the head though: One of the biggest reasons this is hard is that we fear rejection. On top of that though, if I were a pastor, I wouldn't want to resent people for saying "no" to me. Anyway :)
At some point a nurse came by to put an IV in my left arm. She had used a couple different colors of eye shadow to create a sizeable, elaborate, and bold "swoosh" ... above (?) her eyes. She asked about our kids and when I mentioned that our daughter's name was Hazel, she lit up and explained that was one of her favourite names, even that she almost named her own daughter Hazel! Having the IV put in wasn't too bad. It was put in on the top of my left hand, and was more uncomfortable than having one put in when you go to give blood. I was hooked up to a saline solution. (?)
Something that was slightly humorous was that as the nurse was cleansing my hand, another nurse came in and said "STOP!". She went on to read on my chart that I had indicated from previous experiences giving blood that I'm slightly sensitive to chlorahexadine... in the past it has given me a bit of redness and a little bit of rash. The nurse asked what cleanser the IV nurse was using, and the answer was... "alchohol with chlorahexadine". It really doesn't matter, but it was interesting to see it all play out. As a person who thinks about "process", its interesting to consider how standard hospital practice is setup to avoid things like that, and how that didn't pan out in this case. But let me re-iterate: I could have cared less.
After 1 to 1.5 hours of reading and waiting, it was show time.
My experiences at the hospital: Surgery
Dr Banerjee entered bay 8 to say hi, and to ask if I had any questions. I really didn't have any questions, so after a brief chat, he went on his way.
A lady came by, I think her name was Monica, to wheel my bed to the OR. I'm sure my pace quickened a bit as we navigated our way out of the waiting area, past the main desk, down one or two hallways, and parked outside of the OR. I felt a little bit like I was the star of a TV show. Ok, that's probably an exaduration, but I definitely felt like a person of situational importance. She had me stand up while she held my IV tubing as we walked together into the OR. When I stood up she seemed quite surprised with how tall I was... I think I had about 12 inches on her!
The OR was a sizeable room, with quite a bit of impressive looking machinery, and a hospital bed smack dab in the middle. Monica had me lay down, and once horizontal she tried to have me adjust myself so that my feet didn't hang off the end of the bed. This was a bit of a balancing act as I couldn't push myself so far up so as to have my head hang off the top of the bed.
Once situated, she stood on the left side of the bed and we chatted about kids, etc. I felt like today was a day of curious coincidnences and "almosts": The nurse who almost named her daughter Hazel, the nurse who's shoes were almost an exact color match to her pants, and now this lady Monica who's child was born on April 7, 2009, at Grand River Hospital, almost exactly as Eli was. (one day off)
The anesthetist entered the room and asked me, for the ka-zillionth time that day, whether I was alergic to anything. She started setting up my general aneasthetic. Meanwhile, Dr. Banerjee entered the room. I found it very interesting to watch him. He acted as the "quarterback", speaking clearly and authoritatively to the group of nurses, but not coming across as aggressive or bossy. The things that he said seemed to be very "procedural", as if he was following a mental checklist. I liked it.
An oxygen mask was placed over my face as I lay there. It is in my personality to be very curious about what it's going to be like getting knocked out by a general anaesthetic.
The closest thing I've had (since being 3) is having my wisdom teeth out. In that case, I was apparently still talking to the dental staff long after I can remember. Recalling back to that day, I remember likewise waiting curiously, introspecting what it was like as they were putting me out. They were asking me a series of questions, because they knew I was very curious, and they were planning after the I had my wisdom teeth out to ask me what the last question I remembered was. As I sat there back in 2003, one of the staff finally said, impatiently, "Daniel, you have to stop fighting it. Please relax, close your eyes, and stop fighting it". That came across as a bizarre statement, because I wasn't "fighting" anything, I was just sitting there relaxed observing whether I was feeling anything. At the time, I was still perfectly alert, but I did as they said and closed my eyes, trying to relax as much as possible. And, curiously, that's the very last thing I remember when getting my wisdom teeth out.
Fast forward back to today, I was laying there with an oxygen mask over my face, waiting for the general anaesthetic to do its thing. I'm not sure how long it had been since the anaesthetist started the flow, but the experience was very different than getting my wisdom teeth out. All of a sudden I felt the effects starting, and they went from 0-60 in seconds. The initial and primary sensation was auditory. The closest thing I can liken it to is ringing in the ears, although it was a bit different. A couple of seconds later, I decided to close my eyes, and in trying to close them, I noticed that my muscular control was rapidly falling off. Sensing this, I immediately tried opening my eyes again, but my eyelids only vaguely followed my orders, stalling about half way open and feeling very sluggish. So I closed my eyes again, and by the time my eye lids shut, I sensed myself going very rapidly. The actual falling asleep was very different than the wisdom teeth experience, in which I have no memory of falling asleep or losing conciousness, just an sudden end to what I could remember after closing my eyes. On the contrary, there was a very explicit sensation that I remember well today, that spanned about 3 seconds after I closed my eyes. The best I can describe it is that if my conciousness were like water in a jar, it was like someone pouring the jar out over the period of a few seconds. Once the perverbial jar was empty, I was gone.
My experiences at the hospital: Recovery
I woke up in the recovery room, at about 2:45, with a nurse sitting beside me typing on a computer. (later on when I asked, she said that I had come out of surgery at about 2:30) The initial sensation was that I had had a really great afternoon nap. You know, that sensation of being really refreshed and mentally energized. Waking up, I had 0 pain. I did feel a sensation in my nose. Have you ever lay face down on a carpetted floor and let your face rest directly on your nose? If you do that for a few seconds, and then stand up, your nose has a particular sensation, and it was quite like that. There was some rolled up gauze taped to my face as an arc under my nose, although at the time I was strangely unconcerned with looking down at my nose. At the time I think my perception was that the cause was up in my nose, but it was not. I tried breathing through my nose and could sense decent air flow, seemingly in both nostrils, but given that the general was still wearing off and things were a bit swollen, I couldn't tell anything too specific.
What I did notice, which was unpleasant, was that I was unable to swallow. I was able to initiate the swallowing motion, but about half way into motion, before I could actually swallow, the motion in my throat would stop. Having a dry throat and not being able to swallow wasn't a great feeling, but in my slightly sedated state, so long as I relaxed it wasn't too bothersome. I also noticed when I tried talking to the nurse that my speech was impaired even though my mental state was fairly sharp. Muscular control was still ramping up, and it was challenging to make my speech muscles work. The nurse explained that sometimes they use a throat spray that has a numbing effect, and this this probably explained why I couldn't swallow.
I could also feel some fluid in my lungs. If I took a deep breath, my lungs had a slight "rattle". This made some sense given that I was knocked out and unable to swallow... instead, fluid from the throat is able to slowly seap down into the lungs. Doing some occassional caughing seemed to help, I think I recalled reading this on the Internet.
I noticed that I was too warm, and so I removed most of my blankets. The nurse got me an ice chip which was nice to chew on and helped my dry throat.
After some time I was wheeled back to bay 8. Some food and drink was brought for me: Two digestive cookies, two small packs of soda crackers, a packet of jam (uhh, ok), and some gingerale. It was great to both eat and drink, since I hadn't had anything to eat since 10:30 PM the previous evening (required fast), and nothing to drink since 8 AM.
I finished the gingerale before I finsihed the food, and it was almost impossible (even unsafe?) to eat the crackers without something to drink, given how try my throat was. So I rang for another glass of gingerale. I finished it, too, pretty quickly, and rang again for some water. In retrospect, if I were to make a recommendation for care of patients having my procedure, I would have appreciated the nurse initially bringing 2 glasses of gingerale and two glasses of water. As a patient, I don't want to disturb the nurse any more than I have to, especially in rapid succession over 15 minutes.
Over the course of 30 minutes since waking up, I could now feel some pain. It was about a 1.5/10, so nothing too bad, although I think my pain scale is probably weighted to the bottom of the scale, since a 5/10 to me would represent being in a lot of pain. From my reading on the Internet and talking to people, a big factor in how people experience recovery is how proactive they are at taking pain meds. Some people's personality is such that they don't ask for medication until pain is very bad or unbearable. It was recommended on the Internet and by friends and family to closely monitor how my nose was feeling, and as soon as I could feel pain coming on, take pain meds. That seemed like good advice, so I did just that. The nurse asked whether I wanted 1 or 2 Tylenol 3s, and I decided to start with 1. After 20 minutes, the pain was still 1.5, so I asked for another one. The second one over the course of 20 minutes go the pain < 1, so I was happy.
At that point, Meredith showed up with little Hazel wrapped up in a Snuggly Wrap on her stomach. It was great to see them and to assure Meredith that it seemed that all had gone well. Our understanding was that the hospital would phone Meredith after I had an hour or so in bay 8, but they never did. It felt like the nurses were quite busy... too busy to be able to be perfectly on top of phoning Meredith to come get me. So Meredith had called them, and they passed along that she could come to pick me up. We waited for an hour or so before Sue and Mary were available to discarge me, which was ok. Meredith just let me lay back and close my eyes and relax, while she wandered around with Hazel.
Mary changed my nose gauze. When she took it off, it was evident that the inside surface of it was nicely soaked with blood, which was my first indication that I was bleeding. She put on new gauze. After taping it to my face, she said, "I can't let you leave like that, it's not straight at all", so she tried again and was happy with the second result. Mary had me walk for a bit pushing my IV tree to prove that I was mobile. I definitely could sense that my balance and vestibular sense was still off, but so long as I walked slowly I was ok. They sat me down in a wheelchair and we were off! Meredith rolled me out to the elevator, down to the main floor, and parked me at the main entrance while she went and got the car. Fortunately Tim Hortons was there for her to request a glass of water, because my throat had quickly become extremely dry again. Thanks Timmy's!
Initial recovery at home
As we drove home, I was anxious any time a car stopped in front of us. The thought of having an accident and hitting an airbag was pretty much the last thing I wanted to do!
When I walked in the front doors of home, I was touched that it was evident that Meredith had worked hard to tiny up the house. I had wanted to do more of that last night, but didn't succeed in having enough energy. I walked upstairs to bed, and again was very touched that our super-disaterous bedroom was perfectly neat and tidy, and had been dusted. The washroom was also sparkly clean. What a wonderful gift. Like many people, being surrounded by tidiness and cleanliness is very uplifting for me.
Once in bed, I wanted to start journaling, so I went downstairs and got the laptop and brought it back up to bed with me. And here I am, at least 3 hours later, still busy typing!
Pretty soon after I started journaling, I noticed how soggy and wet my gauze was. Partly this was due to every time I took a sip of water, the gauze would soak up some water. But it was evident that I was bleeding at a much faster rate that I had been in the hospital. I would estimate that the bleeding rate was about 8 times faster than it was in hospital. They had only sent me home was 1 extra gauze packet, which seemed odd given how quickly I had soaked the one I wore home. I was concerned, as was Meredith. Why had the bleeding rate increased so dramatically? We phoned the day surgery desk at St. Mary's and the nurse there assured me that there was nothing to worry about, and that I had soaked my gauze in 45 minutes was just fine. She said that if my nose was gushing with blood like can happen if one gets a very bad nose bleed, then we should seek help.
Too uncomfortable, I went to the washroom to change the gauze. Taking it off seemed to slow the bleeding rate. My theory was that the gauze had been taped just a bit too close to my nose, and that in combination with it swelling with blood uptake, it was now putting pressure on my nose, which was further increasing blood flow. I was releaved once removing it to see the bleeding rate decrease. My upper lip and the creases around my nose were crusted with dry blood and so I nelt at the sink and very very carefully wetted my finger and traced around those areas unti they were clean. I reapplied gauze and the bleeding rate seemed to be 1/3rd of what it was prior to changing the guaze, which was a big relief.
I spent the evening typing away. Meredith brought me a lovely PB&J sandwich, and I ripped off little chunks, no crust, and ate it over the course of an hour. I drank quite a number of glasses of water, and it was quite interesting how much I had drank since waking up from sugery without needing to pee. Perhaps it was due to not having drank anything since 8 AM, although I think that's part of the purpose of the saline solution. (?) Finally I needed to pee and it was quite interesting that it took an incredibly long time to pee, about 60 seconds, but at a much reduced flow rate than what would be typical. Strange. Maybe still related to the general anaesthetic wearing off?
Day 1 conclusions
I'm very happy that the surgery seems to have been a success, and it's a big relief that I don't seem to have a whistling sound while breathing through my nose. I'm pleasantly surprised how little pain I've had, and the Tylenol 3s seem to be working well. I have more mental acuity than I thought I would have so soon after the surgery. It is wonderful to just take it easy and rest, focus on eating slowly, drink lots, and change my gauze every couple of hours.
Day 2, 3, 4, etc.
I wrote the above back in 2012 right after having the surgery, and I'm writing this now in 2021, since I've noticed that I get a decent number of visitors to this page each month.
I had forgotten that I stopped my journal after day 1, which doesn't give a well rounded description of what the entire recovery was like, so I think it's best for me to do so.
Unfortunately my lack of pain on day 1 wasn't indicative of what the following days were like. At some point later, I forget whether that was day 2, or 3, or 4, etc., I was struggling with pain, and overall I was a bit miserable. There was a plastic piece that was inserted into the nose as part of the surgery, and it felt like it was cutting into the soft flesh of the nose / nasal cavity, creating a lot of discomfort.
Eventually I requested to be seen by the doctor, and given my pain, he agreed to remove the plastic piece, even though his preference normally would be to leave it in place. Oh man did it hurt when he removed it / yanked it out!
If I recall correctly, having it removed did help with the pain, but overall I'd actually say that recovery was more painful than I imagined it would be. The nose, while small, is a pretty sensitive area!
Reflections
So am I glad I had the surgery? I think I am. I would say that it resolved for me the not-uncommon feeling that I wasn't get enough oxygen, where I'd even grab my nostril, pull, take a deep breath.
I wouldn't say it "changed my life" in the dramatic sense of the phrase, but it did improve quality of life for the better.
One curious, possibly related thing, is that around that time of my life, I think maybe even as I was recovering from the surgery, I started reading a book, called "Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream" (https://www.amazon.ca/Radical-Taking-Faith-American-Dream/dp/1601422210), and that really did "change my life" in the dramatic sense of the phrase. The following few years it's like I had a completely different mindset to life, and I'd say they were definitely some of the most joyful and energized years of my life. I sometimes wonder if the anesthesia from the surgery had an affect on my brain somewhat like how people report that psilocybin can significantly affect people's mindset in a lasting way. I'll probably never know, but I'm curious whether there's a correlation.
BlackBerry mentions fade as BB7 agesSeptember 16, 2012
It has been a bit depressing this week as I start to see more mentions of smartphones that refer to iOS, Android, and Windows Phone, but don't bother to mention BlackBerry.
Most prominent is
this article which grapples with the question of which type of smartphone to buy.
After closer inspection, there is a paragraph that mentions BlackBerry:
"We didn't forget about BlackBerry OS, which is currently still stuck in a development cycle, and therefore isn't a serious contender. We expect BlackBerry-maker RIM to release Blackberry OS 10 and a new phone in 2013. RIM faces an uphill battle keeping loyal customers and gaining new ones, but we always hope to see a struggling player pull out something that'll amaze."
What I find interesting is that they're implicitly saying is that BB7 isn't even on the radar as an option for consumers. Wow. The 9900 is a fantastic device, and while Android and iOS have some very shiny features, it seems very odd, and sad, that BB7 is being stigmatised this way.
Physical keyboard or touch screen keyboard?September 15, 2012
I've had the Samsung Galaxy S III for a month or so now and one of the conclusions I'm coming to is that I prefer all-touch phones. Don't get me wrong, I love the physical keyboard on the 9900 -- this is more about the trade off between physical keyboard VS more screen real estate. So what I'm really saying here is that:
  | Having a larger screen makes many use cases much more compelling. |
| An all-touch keyboard isn't too bad. |
I think one of the factors here is that I haven't used a BB enough to become a super-pro at typing, and so moving to an all-touch keyboard doesn't set me back much.
What I'm most interested in talking about here are the use cases that a larger screen makes a big difference for:
| 1. | Web browsing. This is really what it mostly comes down to: Having a big screen is so, so nice for web browsing, such as searching Google, and viewing Google Maps. |
| 2. | Watching video: Obviously having a beautiful wide screen display makes watching video way better VS the 9900's small square display. |
| 3. | Flexibility in apps. I think this goes all the way back to Steve Jobs' intro when the iPhone was first released: If you give apps more space by removing physical buttons, they can use that space for good things. I'm sold, I think he's right. |
So I sure am glad that BB10 is, first and foremost, a full-touch experience. Yes, they will also sell physical keyboard phones, but the OS and the experience have been designed so that all-touch isn't a second-class citizen.
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