For the last two days I’m had a rooster pecking on my eardrum. I’m not kidding. A dull throbbing pain has popped into my life like a thunder storm kicking across a warm August night. So, what to do? First, you obsess that your eardrum is going to explode, leaving you with a disgusting gaping hole in your head (Thank you, Web MD!), then you start calling your friends in the medical field for shameless free advice. You find yourself admitting, “Yes, indeed, I did go swimming in a public pool recently that most likely did leave me with a nasty ear rot from hell!” Then, I go to the the real doctors for drugs, because really who wants their ear being attacked by a fake rooster on vacation week? Not me.
The scene in the doctors office was not a pretty one. The doctor looked into my ear and said, “My god! Your eardrum is completely encased with wax!” What? The whole thing? Encased. That’s nasty. I swear, I know my way around a q-tip. Mom? Help? So, he just goes in there for the scrape. Excuse me, six scrapes. As he scraped he said, “How could you hear a thing?” Dude, have you ever heard my daughter? Then he cheerily told me that my drum looked in tip-top shape but my tube is stuck like a penny in a rusty old parking meter. Time for the antihistamine.
After paying my copay (sooo bitter!), I drive to CVS where I slowly realize that Sudafed is locked up like gold. Fumbling for my ID, I had a surge of rooster badass. That’s right, I’m buying Sudafed! Just kidding.
So, am I on the mend? I’m not sure, but I sure am snarky today, don’t you think?