The past week has been… interesting, and that’s putting it mildly. Not that my weeks in general aren’t slightly interesting, just not interesting in the HOLY FUCK THAT WAS TERRIBLE BUT I’M GOING TO PUT IT MILDLY BY SAYING INTERESTING INSTEAD kind of way. That is the kind of week the past week was.
I’m no stranger to pain. I HAVE in fact blown my vagina apart forcing two children into this world (though I might argue one of them did NOT want to come out until he was threatened with forceps, and he’s so vain he must not have wanted to scratch up his precious little face). I DO have chronic back and neck pain that’s been plaguing me for over a year now that doctors have been totally a-holey about and have done basically jack-shit to make it any better, or to make ME feel better until it’s better. Oh, and I have tattoos; those hurt like a biatch. So yeah, i’m not a pain-baby. I don’t think I have a HIGH tolerance, but i’m no whiny crybaby either- and this week put me on my ass.
I think the last we left off with this tale, it was after one doctor’s visit and some painkillers. Of course, I had hoped it would end there and i’d go on about my merry way, back to my stupid ass back pain per usual.
Tell me something- does anything I do or go through EVER end when it should? Psh. No.
After two visits to the damn urgent care that did absolutely NOTHING for me because the turds didn’t seem to understand that ear drops weren’t going to actually GET to the infection if the ear was so plugged up and swollen that nothing could pass (DUH, i’m not a fucking doctor but even I know that), and even when I called to bitch (yes, while crying. Don’t judge me)- they basically tried to flat out call me a liar, which caused me to yell at the condescending shit-burger on the phone, which in turn only made my ear worse.
Why yes, nurse- even though it was 3pm on a Friday afternoon and i’m doped up on percocet and have two kids to care for at home and I am in tremendous mind-melting amounts of pain, I can just drop everything and force an Ear-Nose-Throat Specialist to see me immediately… nevermind the fact that I would likely DIE on the way there and there is NO FUCKING WAY they have anything open! So totally possible, thank you for the ingenious suggestion as to how to further care for my severe ear infection and pain!
Sigh. Seriously. I want to like people, but they make it so fucking hard.
It’s at that point that I give up on that biatch and move on to bigger and better- the hospital. The actual hospital hospital and not a bitchy sister smaller office that likes to pretend it’s the hospital but claims they can’t help like the hospital. Yes, i’m going to go and sit my ass in the ER- but am I going to wait? HELL NO I’M NOT GOING TO WAIT. For a damn ear infection. Give me a fucking break.
So I plan out my painkillers to last me until the morning (important shizz, that planning stuff) and then when I wake up I make a call-ahead appointment for the ER.
Yes, call-ahead. I fucking love technology.
It’s kind of like the DMV, it doesn’t suck AS bad when you don’t have to wait so long that you swear to the grilled cheezus your birthday has passed three times over and maybe the world really IS flat.
At least this time, the people taking care of me weren’t complete assholes, understood I was in a fuckload of pain, and actually believed me when I said the medicine wasn’t working because it was NOT getting into my ear- why? DUH because JUST LIKE I SAID, it was totally plugged.
Being right sucked though, because a plugged ear meant they had to try and get the medicine in there SOMEHOW, which meant once again trying to shove a “wick” into my ear. At the smaller office, they were understanding enough to know (or perhaps cautious enough to know) that jamming something into my swollen tiny canal would cause THEM great bodily harm. This chick had giant steel balls and didn’t give a flying fart in space if it hurt me, because it needed to be done.
Ever seen someone jam a tiny cottony thing into someone’s ear while they flail their legs wildly? I would bet it is a hysterical sight to see.
After she made sure I wasn’t going to throw things at her or kill her (her words, not mine), she jacked my ass up on some strong pain killers, gave me more drops and oral antibiotics, and sent me on my way- but told me that (FUCKING SIGH) I would need to follow up with a damned Ear-Nose-Throat doctor in a few days to have this wonderful wick extracted from my ear.
Dread. Pure dread. Of course that feeling didn’t last long as I went floating above the damn clouds.
Shock and surprise, I actually started to feel better- other than the worry. The worry about this tiny cotton tampon in my ear and how in the hell much it was going to hurt to have it yanked out if it nearly killed me going in
Not only that, but the only appointment I could manage to get was bright and shiny early in the morning today. I do not like mornings… more importantly, they do not like me.
Do you know what happens when I wake up before the sun does to go somewhere to have something yanked from a part of my body that hurts? I poop. I’m not ashamed- I get the nervous poops. Once the nervous poops begin it’s hard to get them to stop.
There’s really nothing more awkward than getting to a new doctor’s office and having to pinch a loaf in their toilet and your name gets called.
Where is that bitch? Oh, she’s blowing up our bathroom; hold please.
To make things worse (because as we all know, they can always get worse), in walks Douchey McDoctor. Kind of condescention! Ear Tampon Extractor Extraordinaire! Senor Know-It-All ShitBaggins McGee!
All of those things with a cherry on top, and by cherry on top I mean one of those giant circular reflector thingies on his forehead. Him and his trusty sidekick, who we shall call The Ginge.
|This, my friends, is an
So Douchey McDoctor, aka DD and The Ginge go all 3rd degree on me. If there’s one thing I hate to do, it’s to tell the SAME story over and over and OVER again.
MY EAR IS INFECTED. IT HAS A TAMPON IN IT. REMOVE IT AND LET ME GO HOME.
Apparently The Ginge had never seen this ear tampon contraption before, and was all up in my fucking grill as DD dives into my poor ear canal and starts digging it out.
Going in was unpleasant in feeling, but coming out was unpleasant in sound. I don’t know what else to compare it to other than those times in cartoons where the character steps into a giant pile of something or other (food, mud, gum) and it makes that horribly loud squishing sound and you KNOW in real life stepping in any of those things would not make that sound but they have to play it up for television comedy purposes? It was that sound. Horrible horrible sound.
I think The Ginge inspected my ear tampon like a total weirdo, but I refused to look. If it’s been swimming in my ear funk for days, I’d really prefer to avoiding seeing the result. I respect my stomach too much to ruin it.
They weren’t satisfied with just yanking this thing out of my ear- then they wanted to “vacuum” said ear- and considering the fact that I haven’t heard out of infecto-ear in well over a week, and that it’s still infected, AND that it’s really fucking sensitive- it was not fun. It was loud, REALLY LOUD. And it hurt, but the shit head just kept telling me to “hold still”
Yeah let me take a vacuum to the depths of YOUR infected sensitive ass ear and see if YOU can hold completely still, shitdick!
To top it all off, DD and his condescending shitdicky self tells me that somehow in the magical mystery of my life, I must have either blown my eardrum, or gotten a middle ear infection SO bad that it tore. All without my knowing.
Trust me, this ear infection has been like giving birth out of the side of my face (to triplets)- I would KNOW if I had a damn infection. I’m not a MONSTER!
So now, if this dumb fucking sensitive ass ear doesn’t fix itself, it will have to BE fixed.
You can fuck right off, Douchey McDoctor and your Gingey side-kick!
All I wanted to do at that point was go home where at least I wouldn’t be condescended to about life choices that have NOTHING to fucking do with ears, lay down on the couch, and medicate with some damn drops… but of course, the kids wouldn’t have ANY of that shit.
What is it with asshole kids that they choose the day where your ear is sensitive to even a PIN dropping to run and scream and hit each other with the back ends of stupid toys on sticks and whine about absolutely everything and nothing at all???
They’re lucky it’s Mommy Juice Tuesday or I’d sell them on Craigslist.
The end. Or is it?????
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