Wednesday, February 22, 2006

Speak Up, I Can't Hear You

So, I have Swimmer's Ear.

I wish I had some valiant story to go along with my latest affliction, something like me wearing a TYR racerback tank suit doing laps like a mean bitch at the gym, scamming on some guy with a build for water polo.

But that would be a total lie, yo.

The story is much less exciting and way more my fault, but it basically boils down to this:

Right now I want some Martian alien to ride on it's magic spaceship to my house and suck out my brain when I'm sleeping, because that would probably take care of all the fluid in my left ear canal, too.

Yesterday I was buying crap for my party. Wish y'all could come because it's going to be grand: Jambalaya, assortment of cheese and crackers, veggies and dip for the WW people and several decadent chocolates/dessert treats for total indulgence. I also have plenty o' wine, beer, bourbon and vodka. Lots of vodka.

Anyway.

I was walking down the aisle at my favorite place to buy groceries, drooling over the olives (esp. the ones stuffed with blue cheese) when I totally ignored some woman.

"Sam's has a way better deal on those."

Five seconds pass.

"Didn't you hear me?", she says with a kind of scowl.

I realized this woman was talking to me, and for a split second I thought about doing something really smart ass like waving my hands around and speaking like I have a hearing handicap. But pretending to be deaf is a straight ticket to hell (or a sure fire way to having deaf kids), so I opted to respond like I was totally out of it (which is a real possibility, anyway).

This whole not hearing thing sucks.

Confession time:

Okay, this is how I got the dreaded Swimmer's Ear. I am a little OCD and develop these little grooming habits. Usually I get obsessed about something simple like tweezing my eyebrows every day, or checking my shoulders for pimples. For the past few months, it's been my ears. Specifically my left ear, and concerns over waxy build-up. I think lately I've been Q-tipping it three times a day. Excessive, I know, but still. I thought it was harmless.

Turns out I had a bunch of cotton shoved up my ear.

I went to the doctor's last Friday and they flushed everything out and gave me a prescription. Cipro for the ears. All I could think about when I got it was Penny Marshall in her Laverne & Shirley voice talking about how she stocked up on a motherload of Cipro after 9-11 and all the Anthrax threats. I paid 40 freakin' dollars for the damn eardrops, which require twice-a-day treatment.

So now my ear is totally full of some expensive-as-crack liquid that's supposed to be making me feel better. My ear drums don't really hurt anymore (beware the Q-tip, friends) but now I can't hear crap.

What?

I know, I know. My life is so hard...

2 comments:

NB-C said...

Too funny! Sorry about the ear though...I swear to God, if I can get some weird ailment I usually do...

I too am borderline OCD...I spend a lot of time picking the stray course hairs on my face...GROSS! But true...and I freak out when I can't find my handy dandy tweezers!

Kate The Great said...

I don't know what the deal is! I go through these phases. Sometimes it's pulling out split ends out of my scalp. Other times it's combing over the pimples on my chin. It's totally bizzaro and I know it's an OCD habit I inherited from my mother (who is notorious for pulling at her cracking cuticles). Oh well. Everyone has a vice. I guess I'd rather be overzealous with the Q-tip than have a heroin needle in my arm...