Thank goodness Violet had been sent to Grandma's and Aaron was able to escort me to our fine hospital. The waiting room TV was playing a relentless string of infomercials and my husband's running commentary kept my spirits up. Of course, he practically had to shout so that I could hear him and thereby entertained a few other guests as well.
I really sold it in triage, what with my pain level and the double doses of Nyquil and ibuprofen I had taken without effect. I got in ahead of the dude who had been in a bar fight, bloody skull and all. I also beat out the two trashy gossip girls who showed no visible signs of illness or injury, other than a clinical lack of ambition in life.
In the exam room, I saw the billing lady a full ten minutes before the doctor. The room was equipped for ENT emergencies and the labels on the drawers said horrifying things like, "Nasal Tampon", "Tongue Blade" and "Eye Speculum." Thankfully, the doctor needed only to look inside my ears to make a quick diagnosis.
DOUBLE. EAR. INFECTION.
Tonight's blog post is brought to you by a heavy dose of antibiotics and my best friend, Mr. Vicodan.
I have a new found sympathy for children who are cursed with recurrent ear infections. This sucks ass. As do homeopathic ear pain relief drops, but that's neither here nor there.