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Friday, July 1, 2016
An "Earie" episodePosted Wednesday, February 27, 2008, at 9:05 PM
My apologies to bloggers across Blogland. I have indeed been remiss in my duties as a bloggist…is that what I have been reduced to…a bloggist? Hmmmmmm, a blogographer might be a more impressive title. No matter, Miss Minnie is back, and in the nick of time, as I see there are messages from two of my favorite supporters, GT and Cake. Sorry, dearies….a social life calls.
It couldn't have been a more appropriate day for the makings of a blog. Let me begin.
Having awakened with a bit of a scratchy throat Monday, and having a fun weekend planned to begin Friday morning, and having had these symptoms some time ago and knowing that I was headed for nothing less than bronchial pneumonia, I made an appointment with, you guessed it, my favorite physician…yes, the one to whom, as explained a few blogs ago, I announced that the day was still young when he inquired as to whether or not I was "active."
And so today, I sat patiently, though he was over half an hour late in appearing at the door (I always wonder…is there another professional for whom folks would sit for "patient"ly after being kept waiting for that length of time? A carpenter?…nope, I'd hire another one. A plumber?….nah, I'd call someone in the Yellow Pages. Even a lawyer doesn't keep clients waiting for that long without offering an excuse. Of course, the doctor doesn't charge you $200 an hour while he sees you either…close, but no cigar. But I digress…
SO, finally the good doctor arrives and I tell him of my symptoms and that I wish for nothing more than an antibiotic. I even go into detail as to what my doctor of thirty years ago used to prescribe for me….like that prescription still even exists. I just wanted to make it clear that I wanted an antibiotic and nothing more or less. I know my body and right now, it's screaming, "ANTIBIOTICS, NOW!!"
So, the good doc, still sheepish, I suppose from the memory of my last visit, proceeds with the exam to determine if my self-diagnosis is correct. He takes a look in my throat with his light and has me voice the usual "Ahhhhhh." And then he proceeds to the ears. The left one first….He looks for longer than what I think is appropriate. What's going on here? Just give me an antibiotic and I'll be on my merry, overweight way, with slightly elevated blood pressure, due no doubt to having to wait for 35 minutes past my appointment time when I have very important things to do….like most blogographers.
"SO," he says, "when did you lose the back to your earring?"
I'm thinking, "Is that a question that is addressed to me…WHAT?" And that's what I said, "What?" And he repeats his question….and then he says, "You have an earring back down in your ear canal…When did you lose it?"
Well, if I knew the answer to that question, I guess I'd know that I lost one, which I obviously did not. SO, I responded most appropriately, "I don't know…maybe a few weeks ago." I recalled waking one morning…I believe it was still in 2008, and realizing at some point in preparing for the workday ahead, that I lacked an earring back. I looked on the sheets, as I recall, but it wasn't like I suspected that the thing was anywhere that it shouldn't be…it was just gone…maybe in the carpet or in the bedding somewhere. At the time, I recall that it really wasn't a concern. I got another one and secured the earring and never gave it another thought…..until today, when the good doctor found it not only in my ear, but imbedded in the ear drum, more appropriately referred to as the "tympanic membrane," I do believe.
And so, an endeavor ensued to remove the foreign material from the membrane. It reminded me of the old scavenger hunts…remember? "Find a chicken feather near and a pine needle." Only this time it was…Find an earring back in an ear canal.
The quest was on. He first attempted to remove it with a pair of tweezers…very long tweezers. No luck. It was at that point that he told me he feared it might be imbedded in the eardrum. A nurse was summoned, who was instructed to hold the light while he used both hands to try to remove the little culprit. I was told (very kindly, mind you), to sit very still while he tried to pry the little thing off the membrane, which by all indications had taken up residence there and had burrowed itself into the newfound home. Still, no luck. There was discussion of going to get a special tool that would be "just right" to retrieve the back thingy, but the office in which it was housed was already closed…the thought crossed my mind that if he hadn't been 35 minutes late in arriving, that office would still be open.
Another tool was attempted and a statement was made that it was really down in there… "Well, no wonder," I said, "I use a Q-tip every night, so I'm sure I've managed to jam it down there good and tight."
The third tool worked. While I focused on the "February" name on the calendar across the room, trying to see how many words I could make out of the letters…bury, ferry, rube (I've met a few of them)…the good doc managed to pry the little silver thing off my eardrum and presented it to me with a smile. I thanked him profusely for saving me the expense of having to purchase another one.
The ear did not bother me in the least until he removed what should have been making it hurt. Now it hurts. Maybe I should have left it in place…like a little interior decorating.
I thanked the good man and got my prescription (yes, for an antibiotic and some Musinex) and went on my merry way, but not without second thoughts. WHY didn't I ask him to take another look in my throat and tell him I'd recently lost a diamond pendant. Or better yet….suggest another pap smear…might have unearthed an emerald or a ruby. And there's no telling what a colonoscopy would have produced. Think I'll go back tomorrow. If I'm lyin'….I'm dyin'.
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