Can I Rent A Cochlear Implant For The Weekend? Part One.

I've spent the last 72 hours with crippling pain in my ears. Initially, the pain was so intense it sent me to an after hours clinic, and they in turn sent me to the ER with a Golden Ticket to bypass the long line of crazies, next came a CT scan with a result showing a sinus infection and the cherry on top -- a severe double ear infection.

The only bearable part of the last 72 hours was the fact that within minutes of arriving at the ER I was shot up with morphine. The last time I was given morphine was a few years ago after having my appendix removed. I spent the next day and a half pressing the little red button next to my hospital bed, religiously every ten minutes, and it was as if I was pressing a little red button straight into heaven. Faaaabulous! But say it the way Oprah says it, to better understand my meaning.

The morphine for my painful ear infections wore off after I arrived home, so I took two teensy weency pain pills I was prescribed, which did NOT A DAYUM THING. So I writhed in pain for the rest of the night until a follow-up doctor appointment the next morning. By now, I was vomiting and could barely walk in a straight line. I was sent home with a little bit of heaven in pill form, which made things better. 

Another day passed and I was referred to an Audiologist and E.N.T for further examination. Since I'd been deaf for the last three days, I'd become a pro at reading lips. I was doing my best at keeping up with what the ENT was saying, and my heart stopped when it seemed as if he'd said "So, if this new antibiotic I'm prescribing fails to work within 48 hours, I will need to puncture your eardrums in order to drain the infection. All I heard, or lip read, rather, was PUNCTURE--PUNCTURE--EARDRUMS.  Ummm, I'm no doctor, but that doesn't sound normal, man! I panicked and feverishly darted my eyes around the exam room to make sure this wacko had a medical license of some sort, and was disappointed in finding at least three, all decked out with fancy frames. Damn it. He was for real. And his name was Dr. Slaughter.

OMG, what's worse here??  His name? or that he WANTS TO INTENTIONALLY RUPTURE BOTH OF MY FUCKING EARDRUMS?

I started throwing questions at him, as  you can imagine because I'm a total spazz  any normal person would at this point.

Will it hurt? Will you put me under? Will you hold my hand and stuff? Can you tell me your First Name, so I can stop thinking about your Last One? Would you do this to your loving wife? Or child? Am I asking too many questions? Why are you looking at your watch? Oh God, are you in a hurry? Are you going to HURRY WHILE PUNCTURING THE MOST SENSITIVE TISSUE INSIDE MY ENTIRE BODY?!

Here's hoping the stronger antibiotic does the trick. Cause if it doesn't, I apologize in advance for the dramatic informative blog to follow what sounds like a totally inhumane surgical procedure.