Bad Time for an Ear Cleaning
January 8th 2010 by Fay Ulanoff
I told my husband I couldn’t hear.
I told everyone that things were getting far away.
They didn’t listen, until days, turned to weeks, and then a month had passed.
What to do?
What to do, you say to yourself.
Why not visit an MD.
They always know what to do.
Or at least their credentials say they will.
I hoped so the day I took a chance and called upon my friendly neighborhood physician.
What have we here, “He say.”
I say,” Things are getting far away.”
“Well, let’s take a look.’
So he looks with his eye.
Then he looks with his instrument.
He tells me that my ears have to be cleaned out.
I say, “No, I just washed them in the shower.”
But he tells me that is not the case and he must do it right now, so he may see in.
“See in? I answer.
“Yes and we must hurry about it, so that I can tell if there’s anything wrong”
Wrong. Of course there is something wrong or I would not be here. What is he thinking?
“Alright, bring in the tubes and lots of water,” he orders a passing nurse, who smiled and rushed away.
Away? Where I wonder?
Where has she gone? I already told him that I washed my ears in the shower. What could he be thinking?
“This is a mistake. I tell my husband, as they tell me to bend my head to the side as they slide in a syringe and pour water all over my shirt and pants.
“Stop that!” I told everyone that I already had clean ears and I don’t think this will work.”
All involved in this procedure agree that this was the best thing.
So I go out of my way to cooperate.
“”Hold your head still. Bend it down this way.
No that way,” said the nurse with gentle hands, until she took out a white very enlarged
toothpick.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Oh just lean back and I’ll pour this half pitcher of water down your shirt.’
Well she really didn’t say that. In fact she told me to hold still so it would all go down into my ear.
Every drop did not go directly into my ear, but my husband, who witnessed the entire ordeal, could only see it with my back to him. So he thought that every syringe and pitcher full of water did enter my ear canal.
When in actuality, most of it fell out into the sink basin I was sitting next to.
Now let me get back to the giant tooth pick device she was about to explore my ear with.
“Ouch! That hurts.’
“Don’t worry dear. We are only trying to pick out the wax.”
Pick out?
Pick out?
I thought they were only going to use the water and that was enough for me, especially because my ears were really, really clean from this morning.
“Just hold still and we’ll be done in no time.”
I did hold still and she pulled out something that I did not want to hear of nor see.
And although the nurse, doctor and my husband were so pleased with the yucky yuk that she had fished out.
I saw nothing rewarding nor gratifying about her mining results.
In the end, the nurse and doctor told me to change out of my wet shirt into the sweater I had worn over my blouse, when I entered the torture chamber, and be sure to wear a hat.
I did as I was told and my husband and I left the office with my hearing in the same condition as I went in.
It just goes to show you that perhaps it is better to stay away from the doctors lairs as much as you can, because the only answers comes from within your head, but not from mine, because I am just as cloudy as the day I entered.
