Well, it almost happened. Things were almost normal around here. Almost.

I was sleeping deeply a couple of weeks ago, when something very strange woke me up. Something skimmed the outside edge of my ear and went into my ear canal. “Did that just happen?” It was too weird to imagine. I got up and tried to determine if there was indeed something in my ear. Things just did not feel normal. Was something moving around in there? I couldn’t decide if it had really happened (denial) or if I was just imagining things, so I went back to bed.

The next day was Friday, and a decision had to be made about going to the doctor. I decided against it. After all, I wasn’t really certain what was going on. That all changed on Saturday night.

I was sitting at the computer when my ear tickled. I realized that whatever was in there was very near the entrance to my ear. I ran and got the tweezers to see if I could help it along. Alas, under attack, the thing went deep into my ear again. Now there was no doubt. Something WAS in there. I sighed and told myself I could wait this out till Monday when I could go see my doctor. Wrong.

I woke up at 3:30 a.m. with something moving by my ear drum. By now, I was starting to panic—getting really creeped out. After 20 minutes or so of probable off-the-chart blood pressure, I started trying to calm myself down. “Okay. You can handle this. You are an adult. It’s no big deal. You can handle this. You are an adult….” I finally calmed down enough to make myself try to go to sleep, which I finally did.

When I got up Sunday morning, I was still creeped out and decided to get my ear looked at. My dear husband got on the phone with the insurance company who said they only paid for the E.R. if it was life or death. I told DH it could happen if my blood pressure kept rising. Anyway, we ended up driving 20 miles to an urgent care clinic that was open on a Sunday morning.

At the receptionist’s window, I stated the problem and asked, “Can you guys handle this sort of thing?” “Oh, yes. We do this all the time.” Ok then. Fortunately, I didn’t have to wait long to be seen. I only had to fill out 15 pages of paperwork first before being led to the examining room. On the way, I asked the assistant, “Can you guys handle this sort of thing?” “Oh, yes, we do it all the time.” Ok then. It is now confirmed that they can handle me.

The doctor took a peek in the ear, declared he saw nothing, said that whatever had been in there was gone now, stated the eardrum looked fine, and sent his assistant to work on me. She deadened my ear with Lidocain (sp.?) which would kill anything inside. I think it deadened my brain. I thought I was going to pass out and nearly did. (I now thank God every day for my equilibirium and my inner ear!)

Next came the ear irrigation. I had to sit up and hold a small basin under my ear (all the while hanging on to the table for dear life because I was so dizzy) while she filled my ear with gushing water over and over. It felt very strange, but I kept telling myself, “It’s almost over, it’s almost over….” Little did I know! When the basin was full of water, she took it to the sink to inspect the results and empty the basin. Not one sign of anything buggy. Or otherwise. Only clear, clean water.

Because I was so dizzy, the assistant (note that she was never referred to as a nurse) said we would stop for a minute so I could rest. I sat and breathed for a minute. Then, she inserted the instrument into my ear to continue irrigating it. Uh oh. Cold water spurted out my ear and flew down my shoulder, back, and neck. She gasped. “I forgot the basin!” No kidding! This is when I should have staggered away as fast as possible.

Reacting to her mistake, she stopped squirting the water in my ear, but she did not remove the instrument. She kept it in my ear with her hand on the bulb or plunger or whatever was on the end. She reached far to the right with her left hand, under the arm holding the tool, to get the basin sitting next to her. When reaching, she pushed her arm forward and drove that tool into my ear. I gasped and told her something hurt. Bad. She pulled the tool out of my ear, which was throbbing unmercifully. She looked very concerned, then said, “I’m going to try to irrigate it again. If it hurts tell me.” NO PROBLEM! She very carefully inserted a small amount of water, and I told her it was hurting. She looked even more concerned and said, “I’m going to get the doctor.”