I’ve found that there are simple things you can say that will immediately get people’s attention.
Like, “Hey, I won the lottery.”
Or, “Look, they’re giving away free beer.”
And, “I got a needle in my eardrum.”
Now, the first line, I wish I could say; the second, I’ve never heard spoken, and the third, well, that’s the one I actually recently said.
It’s enough to make people practically drop dead. I’m telling you, the words are barely out of my mouth, when people scrunch up their faces, shut their eyes, and even sometimes shudder.
This would be a great line if I were still in grade school. I’d be the hit of the schoolyard.
But getting back to the eardrum needle…yes, I did get a shot in my eardrum. After taking many doses of oral steroids to clear up an ear problem that’s been ongoing, only to have it come back a short time later, my ear, nose, and throat doctor (hereafter known as ENT 1. You’ll see why in a minute.) suggested that we try something that would get to the heart, or at least the cochlea, of the matter and just shoot the steroid directly into my inner ear.
I admit that the first time this was even mentioned to me, I nearly fainted.
The thought, the mere thought, of having anything put into your head through an orifice that wasn’t your mouth or nose (and even sometimes with those) was enough to cause panic. I don’t want things stuck into my eyes or my ears.
But then I experienced some dizziness. Okay, a LOT of dizziness one day. Enough that it got my stomach involved, and let’s just say, I would have stuck an ice pick in my ear myself to escape that type of sickness.
Maybe not an ice pick. Maybe a toothpick. Still…
So I go to ENT 1. He tells me that another doctor, who we will call ENT 2, is in and has done more of these procedures. Would I mind if he gave me the shot?
I believe that getting a needle in your ear is one of those instances in which the person with more experience is most definitely the winner.
I meet ENT 2. ENT 1 says he will stay and hold my hand (I may seem calm now, but at the time, I thought they may have to scrape me off the ceiling).
ENT 2 explains the procedure to me and tells me that I won’t feel any pain. Easy to say when it’s not your ear that is about to be invaded. ENT 1 holds my hand. I’m gripping his like a vice. I sure hope the guy can still do surgery.
ENT 2 looks into my ear. “Perfect. You have the perfect ear for this type of procedure.” Awww, shucks. I bet you say that to all the girls.
ENT 2 then says, “Okay, we’ll start the procedure. As soon as I can get my hands to stop shaking.”
Ah ha ha ha ha…CUT THAT OUT! ENT 2 is a funny man. Very funny. Now let’s stop the standup and get this over with.
ENT 2 sticks something in my ear. I freak out and jump, which is amazing because I am lying down with ENT 1’s hand in my G.I. Joe Kung Fu Grip. ENT 2 says, “Don’t flinch. We could do some real damage if you move.”
Ugh…
Trust me, I didn’t move again during the whole thing. I barely breathed.
But don’t think I’m all big and bad. By the time he stuck something else in my ear, it was already numb.
It happened just the way ENT 2 described: first I would hear a sound that was like someone crumpling cellophane (actually, it sounded like a flag waving in the breeze, but whatever), then I would feel a burning sensation (check), then I would get a terrible taste in my mouth (blech, check), then I would get really dizzy for about 30 seconds (whoaaaaaa, check).
Then it was over.
Well, not totally. I had to lie there with my head tilted for 30 minutes and not talk.
My husband took this time to begin asking me questions. “How are you?” I gave him the “okay” sign with my thumb and fingers. “Does it hurt?” I gave him a sign meaning “no” which took him a minute to figure out. “Can you hear any better?”
When he wouldn’t shut up, I gave him a sign that I can’t repeat on a family-friendly website.
I really didn’t do that. But I did indicate that I didn’t want him to talk to me because I couldn’t answer.
I think it was the longest amount of time I’ve ever spent not speaking when someone else was in the room.
As I write, it’s been a few days since the shot. It really was so much worse to think about than to get.
But it’s still fun freaking people out.
Michele “Wojo” Wojciechowski, when she’s not telling folks that she got a shot in her eardrum and waiting for them to implode, writes Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore. She’s also the author of the award-winning humor book Next Time I Move, They’ll Carry Me Out in a Box. You can connect with Wojo on Facebook or on Twitter.
Did you know that Wojo has a newsletter? It’s full of fun stories, facts, and contests. And she won’t spam you because she doesn’t know how, and it’s bad Karma. Email her at Wojo@WojosWorld.com to subscribe.