This afternoon I made one of my regularly irregular visits to have my left ear re-tubed. My hearing at the moment is awful. The tube in my ear fell out shortly before going into the hospital, and without it the world sounds like my head is underwater. Sound is muffled and distorted. Honestly, for me this isn't a problem. However the people who have to deal with me cranking up the volume on the tv, or repeat things to me three or four times before I understand them find it incredibly annoying. So I went in to get the goo stuffing up my ears drained, and a new tube put in.
It didn't work out though.
When Dr. Kaplan (aka "The Ear Guy") first entered the room I asked about fixing my right ear. It has a hole in the eardrum, and has been 90% deaf for a long time now. He recommended a surgeon who can repair it. That's a good thing. I'd like to have more of my hearing back. Then he started examining the other ear.
The moment the steel hit my ear my heart started racing. Suddenly I remembered what was about to happen. The injection of lidocaine into my ear canal, and the cutting open of the tissue to get at the stuff that had to be suctioned out. I watched him reach for the needle, and I started hyperventilating. The thought of more pain triggered the memories of the last few weeks, and I found myself in the midst of a panic attack.
I haven't found the words to talk about those last two trips to the emergency room. The stitches in my arm without anesthetic, and the moments before they wheeled me into the OR on my birthday. There are levels of pain I don't think adjectives alone can ever touch. If you've ever tried to imagine what frontier medicine felt like you might be close, but until it's your flesh they're working on you can't ever really know what it's like. There are degrees of pain that the mind can't imagine, only live through and try to forget.
Well I haven't forgotten yet. I'm not ready for any degree of pain beyond having blood drawn. I'm really grateful that they're using a catheter for dialysis right now since that doesn't require any needles, or breaking of the skin. The thought of that needle inside my ear canal, though, that was too much. So my hearing wasn't fixed today.
The surgeon he recommended to fix my right ear should be calling me in the next few days. He can fix my left ear while he's in there, and I'm unconscious.
It didn't work out though.
When Dr. Kaplan (aka "The Ear Guy") first entered the room I asked about fixing my right ear. It has a hole in the eardrum, and has been 90% deaf for a long time now. He recommended a surgeon who can repair it. That's a good thing. I'd like to have more of my hearing back. Then he started examining the other ear.
The moment the steel hit my ear my heart started racing. Suddenly I remembered what was about to happen. The injection of lidocaine into my ear canal, and the cutting open of the tissue to get at the stuff that had to be suctioned out. I watched him reach for the needle, and I started hyperventilating. The thought of more pain triggered the memories of the last few weeks, and I found myself in the midst of a panic attack.
I haven't found the words to talk about those last two trips to the emergency room. The stitches in my arm without anesthetic, and the moments before they wheeled me into the OR on my birthday. There are levels of pain I don't think adjectives alone can ever touch. If you've ever tried to imagine what frontier medicine felt like you might be close, but until it's your flesh they're working on you can't ever really know what it's like. There are degrees of pain that the mind can't imagine, only live through and try to forget.
Well I haven't forgotten yet. I'm not ready for any degree of pain beyond having blood drawn. I'm really grateful that they're using a catheter for dialysis right now since that doesn't require any needles, or breaking of the skin. The thought of that needle inside my ear canal, though, that was too much. So my hearing wasn't fixed today.
The surgeon he recommended to fix my right ear should be calling me in the next few days. He can fix my left ear while he's in there, and I'm unconscious.