I went to the ear doctor (ENT) yesterday. The back story is that I had a sinus infection which seemed to settle behind my ear. One night I felt like I was giving birth through that ear. I did the hot oil thing and the heating pad thing. I shook my head. I grouched and threw a minor tantrum1. That’s the night I took a sleeping pill to help me get to sleep, but the damn thing didn’t work so I did what anyone would do– I blogged a little. Yeah, well, that was interesting.
Finally, I managed to get to sleep (don’t remember how and don’t really care). In the morning the pain was gone, but there was blood on my pillow. Enough to freak me the fuck out. I immediately got on the Google and did the medical research– which a person should never do when they discover they’re bleeding out of their ear. After initially thinking I had some flesh-eating brain disease which would leave me with only a few minutes to live, I went to a reputable medical site and voila! I was just experiencing a ruptured ear drum, probably from the damned sinus infection. Whew! Talk about a relief.
So, I stuffed some cotton in my ear to catch the blood and went about my day. Sure, I whined about it on Twitter and tried to get some sympathy from my co-workers, but I was pretty much going to live and I knew that. I used it as a reason not to have to pay a whole lot of attention to people that get on my last available nerve2 which was ok.
Then the bleeding/draining stopped, I took out the cotton and discovered that my hearing really was fuckered up. That kind of sucked, but I found that silver lining again and used it to my advantage. It sucked donkey balls at work, however, because the noise was intense and I couldn’t discern one clang from the other. My co-workers then decided to have fun with me and tormented me endlessly3. A week later it seemed to be clearing up, but I was due for a doctor’s appointment so I thought I’d have him check it.
He declared that my ear canal was full of blood and he needed to refer me to a specialist forthwith! Ok, he actually said (I’m not kidding here):
“There’s blood in your ear. What’s wrong with it?”
To which I said (I’m not kidding about this either):
“I don’t know. You’re the doctor. I’m the patient. You tell me.”
So he sent me to the ENT guy. Meh. Figures.
Now, the ENT is seriously teh hawt. Not going to lie. I just wanted to lick him right then and there. Of course, I couldn’t as that would be improper and, hello!, we had serious business to attend to. That didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.
So, he uses that thing with the light that every doctor uses to look inside the ear. Then he gets out a tuning fork and starts putting it all over my head. “Is it louder here or here.” Do you know that I couldn’t tell no matter where he put that damned thing? I say “Doc, should I be able to hear a difference?” and he laughs. So much for the licking, huh? He finally puts it in the middle of my forehead and asks which side is loudest. I say “It’s in surround sound” and he says “Good. That’s normal.” There ya go then, huh?
So, now it’s time to go into another room where he puts me in a dental chair4 and sticks something else in my ear. Pretty soon he sticks some peroxide in my ear canal and then starts suctioning it out. I’m pretty sure that he was explaining what he was doing, but I couldn’t flippin’ hear him. Hello! There’s bubbles popping and being suctioned out of that ear. Very, very noisy. I’m also pretty sure he knew this and just kept talking anyway.
Then he tells me there’s a couple of scabs in my ear canal. Woo-hoo! That’s not the least bit disgusting. He throws some more crap in there and then starts using some kind of tool to get the gunk out. Well, pretty soon he’s got that tool right up against my ear drum and, holy shitballs, that hurt. I mean, imagine your worst ear ache of your life as something poked the shit out of your ear drum. Yeah. He tells me he’s trying to pull a scab off my ear drum.
Oh really.
Now imagine pulling a scab off your arm before it’s ready to come off. Except it’s in your ear and it’s sharp and feels like someone’s tugging on your brain. So, he’s torturing me with whatever the hell he’s got in my ear and, oh you’re going to love this, he tells me “Do. Not. Move. At all.” Don’t move? What the hell is this guy smoking? Has he never experienced the horrific pain of having someone tugging a scab off of his ear drum? Apparently not.
Can I just say that I’ve had the roots of my teeth scaled sans anesthesia and that shit didn’t hurt as much as the pulling of the ear drum scab. No lie. It took every ounce of my labor techniques for me not to move too much. I was focusing and huffing like I was pushing out a baby. And, yes, I did stop thinking about licking the doctor.
So after thirty years, er, 5 minutes of doing this to my poor ear, he finally stops. Well, he tells me, looks like we’ll have to wait until it dissolves on it’s own. Apparently, he couldn’t rip the thing off properly. No shit. I then wondered5 if he was one of those children who loved to pull scabs. You know the ones I’m talking about. They get scraped up in the school yard and spend weeks yanking off the scabs because it’s oh-so cool. This was my doctor as a small child. I have no doubt of this.
Finally we’re done in the torture chamber and he informs me he wants me back in a month but if my hearing doesn’t return to normal in a couple of weeks I’m to call him. Woo-hoo! Should I go back sooner for more fun and interesting scab pulling? Oh, the conundrum. Bless his heart, but I think I’ll wait.
So, here I sit. My ear still hurts a bit and is still full of gunk6, but I hear a little better. I can tell one sound from the other. I can still hear some crazy junk moving whenever I move my jaw, but it’s not creating a ginormous problem. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with that damned scab. I did find out why Q-tips are bad and why ears pop at high altitudes. I don’t really think much more was accomplished except for the doctor having fun making me squirm.
But I can’t stop thinking about that damned scab. On my ear drum. Right now. Honestly, I could’ve done without him telling me about that because I’m pretty sure I want to pick the damned thing myself. Ugh.
Oh, Scab!
I went to the ear doctor (ENT) yesterday. The back story is that I had a sinus infection which seemed to settle behind my ear. One night I felt like I was giving birth through that ear. I did the hot oil thing and the heating pad thing. I shook my head. I grouched and threw a minor tantrum1. That’s the night I took a sleeping pill to help me get to sleep, but the damn thing didn’t work so I did what anyone would do– I blogged a little. Yeah, well, that was interesting.
Finally, I managed to get to sleep (don’t remember how and don’t really care). In the morning the pain was gone, but there was blood on my pillow. Enough to freak me the fuck out. I immediately got on the Google and did the medical research– which a person should never do when they discover they’re bleeding out of their ear. After initially thinking I had some flesh-eating brain disease which would leave me with only a few minutes to live, I went to a reputable medical site and voila! I was just experiencing a ruptured ear drum, probably from the damned sinus infection. Whew! Talk about a relief.
So, I stuffed some cotton in my ear to catch the blood and went about my day. Sure, I whined about it on Twitter and tried to get some sympathy from my co-workers, but I was pretty much going to live and I knew that. I used it as a reason not to have to pay a whole lot of attention to people that get on my last available nerve2 which was ok.
Then the bleeding/draining stopped, I took out the cotton and discovered that my hearing really was fuckered up. That kind of sucked, but I found that silver lining again and used it to my advantage. It sucked donkey balls at work, however, because the noise was intense and I couldn’t discern one clang from the other. My co-workers then decided to have fun with me and tormented me endlessly3. A week later it seemed to be clearing up, but I was due for a doctor’s appointment so I thought I’d have him check it.
He declared that my ear canal was full of blood and he needed to refer me to a specialist forthwith! Ok, he actually said (I’m not kidding here):
“There’s blood in your ear. What’s wrong with it?”
To which I said (I’m not kidding about this either):
“I don’t know. You’re the doctor. I’m the patient. You tell me.”
So he sent me to the ENT guy. Meh. Figures.
Now, the ENT is seriously teh hawt. Not going to lie. I just wanted to lick him right then and there. Of course, I couldn’t as that would be improper and, hello!, we had serious business to attend to. That didn’t stop me from thinking about it though.
So, he uses that thing with the light that every doctor uses to look inside the ear. Then he gets out a tuning fork and starts putting it all over my head. “Is it louder here or here.” Do you know that I couldn’t tell no matter where he put that damned thing? I say “Doc, should I be able to hear a difference?” and he laughs. So much for the licking, huh? He finally puts it in the middle of my forehead and asks which side is loudest. I say “It’s in surround sound” and he says “Good. That’s normal.” There ya go then, huh?
So, now it’s time to go into another room where he puts me in a dental chair4 and sticks something else in my ear. Pretty soon he sticks some peroxide in my ear canal and then starts suctioning it out. I’m pretty sure that he was explaining what he was doing, but I couldn’t flippin’ hear him. Hello! There’s bubbles popping and being suctioned out of that ear. Very, very noisy. I’m also pretty sure he knew this and just kept talking anyway.
Then he tells me there’s a couple of scabs in my ear canal. Woo-hoo! That’s not the least bit disgusting. He throws some more crap in there and then starts using some kind of tool to get the gunk out. Well, pretty soon he’s got that tool right up against my ear drum and, holy shitballs, that hurt. I mean, imagine your worst ear ache of your life as something poked the shit out of your ear drum. Yeah. He tells me he’s trying to pull a scab off my ear drum.
Oh really.
Now imagine pulling a scab off your arm before it’s ready to come off. Except it’s in your ear and it’s sharp and feels like someone’s tugging on your brain. So, he’s torturing me with whatever the hell he’s got in my ear and, oh you’re going to love this, he tells me “Do. Not. Move. At all.” Don’t move? What the hell is this guy smoking? Has he never experienced the horrific pain of having someone tugging a scab off of his ear drum? Apparently not.
Can I just say that I’ve had the roots of my teeth scaled sans anesthesia and that shit didn’t hurt as much as the pulling of the ear drum scab. No lie. It took every ounce of my labor techniques for me not to move too much. I was focusing and huffing like I was pushing out a baby. And, yes, I did stop thinking about licking the doctor.
So after thirty years, er, 5 minutes of doing this to my poor ear, he finally stops. Well, he tells me, looks like we’ll have to wait until it dissolves on it’s own. Apparently, he couldn’t rip the thing off properly. No shit. I then wondered5 if he was one of those children who loved to pull scabs. You know the ones I’m talking about. They get scraped up in the school yard and spend weeks yanking off the scabs because it’s oh-so cool. This was my doctor as a small child. I have no doubt of this.
Finally we’re done in the torture chamber and he informs me he wants me back in a month but if my hearing doesn’t return to normal in a couple of weeks I’m to call him. Woo-hoo! Should I go back sooner for more fun and interesting scab pulling? Oh, the conundrum. Bless his heart, but I think I’ll wait.
So, here I sit. My ear still hurts a bit and is still full of gunk6, but I hear a little better. I can tell one sound from the other. I can still hear some crazy junk moving whenever I move my jaw, but it’s not creating a ginormous problem. I’m pretty sure it has something to do with that damned scab. I did find out why Q-tips are bad and why ears pop at high altitudes. I don’t really think much more was accomplished except for the doctor having fun making me squirm.
But I can’t stop thinking about that damned scab. On my ear drum. Right now. Honestly, I could’ve done without him telling me about that because I’m pretty sure I want to pick the damned thing myself. Ugh.
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