Three whole hours of emergency room fun!

Aaaah, the emergency room.

Since berry season, I've had this funky ear thing going on.

First I will say that I hate all things related to bodily functions. You'll notice how rarely I post about them on my blog.

Because I hate them. I hate the mention of anything related to anything that bodies do. Except, of course, things like drinking beer and making music. These are things that bodies do, only... they're not gross. I'm thinking more along the lines of involuntary things that your body does.

Well, involuntarily, my body has turned on me. It does this from time to time. Like when it strikes me with hives. Or a sinus infection.

Or an ear infection.

Of all the things, the ear infection has been the grossest. (I don't think that grossest is a word. Anyhow.)

My ear has been bothering me for weeks now. I should have seen a doctor when it started. But the nasty ear thing started mid way through berry season, and my boss, lovely though she is, is NOT a fan of giving her employees sick leave.

If I didn't love her so damn much, I'd take her largely pregnant, edema ridden self to the labor board. But she's one of those bosses who makes sure that there is a cold beer and a fresh pack of ciggies awaiting me at the end of the day, so I really can't complain.

Anyhow.

So, tonight I called the ER and asked it I could come in because my regular doctor is on holidays. He is always on holidays.

I went in.

And waited.

And waited.

And watched some ambulances come in.

I watched a man with a fishing lure stuck in his head come in.

I watched a boy with a large gash in his face come in.

I watched an elderly lady with something undescribed come in.

And I waited.

Patience is a virtue.

When I got called before the guy with the fishing lure, I felt really bad. Because I somehow think that a case of "Funky Ear Thing Going On" is slightly less important than a fishing lure firmly implanted in one's skull.

Anyhow.

The doctor didn't think anything was really wrong with me. No fever, not a lot of pain. He looked at me and blinked.

I looked back and blinked.

And meekly explained that I hate body things and that it's grossing me out.

I don't think that he thinks that a mild case of insanity is worth waiting three hours in an ER over.

However. I can not function with a case of "Funky Ear Thing Going On". And SuperNan looked at it when I got home tonight and said "Ew. That's gross."

And so then I could no more function.

I mean, what was the doctor thinking? I told the triage nurse how much Luvox a put back in a day. Surely this should mean something to him.

He blinked at me.

I blinked back at him.

And explained that I can't function with gross things going on in my ear. He stuck a thingy in my ear which almost led to convulsions. He asked if it was hurting and I said that no, it wasn't hurting, but it was making me feel.... icky.

He blinked at me.

I blinked back at him.

And he explained the Funkiness that he saw.

I fought off the urge to faint, throw up, and scream in unison, ecause throwing up and fainting at the same time as screaming would have been difficult and inevitably would have led to a nasty case of hives.

He gave me some eardrops.

I can't do eardrops. I hate having things in my ears. (Which, in case you were wondering, was what led me there in the first place.)

SuperNan administered my first dose of drops. She dealt with my quiveriness.

I wonder how my roommate will feel once I explain to her that by sharing a dwelling with me, she has also inherited the responsibility of feeding my cat when I'm away, dealing with my outbursts of insanity, and now, helping me put things in my ears every four hours for a week.

At least I was upfront about the fact that I'm a raving lunatic when we met.

Honesty is key.

Toonses