This blog is dedicated to Angela, my sister, who I have written about on this blog several times. She is known to have done a stupid thing or two throughout her life. This story is to make her feel better about all those things I tease her about mercilessly.

I’m a Q-tip fanatic. I adore them. I love them enough to have a pet name for them: ear squeegee. After every shower, I shove an ear squeegee in my ear hole because I no longer have the capacity to ignore the smallest drop of liquid anywhere near my inner ear.

So, Friday was a morning like every other. Wrapped in a towel, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, clearing my ears, thinking about how I had dragged my ass out of bed at 6am for some blood work scheduled for 7. In the next second, something happened. I honestly don’t remember what. As I reached up and placed the Q-tip along the rim of my right ear, there was a noise or a movement – something suddenly caught my attention. Perhaps it was just my stomach rumbling, as I hadn’t eaten or had anything to drink in 12 hours (for the blood work). Perhaps Bunting chose that moment to push open the bathroom door. Or perhaps my body just decided to betray me and suddenly begin twitching at the most inopportune moment. Whatever it was, something caused my head to turn in the exact opposite direction of my Q-tip armed hand.

Have you ever had an inner ear injury? The pain is in your head – it’s everywhere – and it echoes through your whole body like a sickening fire. I was momentarily too stunned to recognize this pain. My hand closed around the end of the Q-tip protruding from the side of my head and pulled. As it came free from the ear, it was like a cork unleashing a tidal wave of pain. Clutching the side of my head, I exited the bathroom and had the good sense to call to Parry: “Parry? I think I just hurt myself bad.”

I wobbled my way into the bedroom, by then the side of my head a blaring siren. I winced my eyes closed and leaned over, my knees on the floor and my head in a pile of clean laundry on the top of the bed. At some point, Parry came into the room, and somehow, with my face smashed into bedspread, I explained to him what I did. I remember that I wanted to cry but I couldn’t do anything but gasp for breath and hold my head. I looked up, and suddenly my stomach clenched and I knew I was about to vomit. I stood up and a wave of vertigo washed over me. I reached out for the wall, and the next thing I knew, I was on the ground.

I’m not sure why I passed out. It could have been the extreme pain or dizziness brought on by inner ear injury. Parry suggests that I have trained myself to pass out when I need to vomit, as I’m deathly afraid to puke (this is a very likely suggestion). Whatever the reason, I found myself on the floor while a panicked Parry loomed over me. He said that for the few seconds I was unconscious I was speaking in tongues. Cool.

My ear hurt. But the dizziness had become manageable and the need to puke had passed. I got myself up and managed to pull myself together. We cancelled my blood work appointment, and I sat on the couch until I came to the realization that my ear wasn’t getting better. Aside from the throbbing along the side of my head and the sharp pain the accompanied burping, swallowing, hiccuping, or yawning, I felt like I was hearing through an ocean of water. I have never been to the emergency room (for myself), and this didn’t seem like a true emergency situation as blood wasn’t pouring out of my head.

I have to tell you, I felt like a complete ass. Parry really had to convince me to seek out medical attention because I didn’t even want to tell anyone what I had done. “I shoved a Q-tip in too far.” God.  How embarrassing. The thought of being permanently deaf brought me to my senses though. We settled on MedExpress (another place I’ve never been).

Luckily the doctor didn’t laugh at me outright. She actually told me that it happens a lot. I reassured her that, yes, I did know that Q-tip were not meant to clean the ear and that, no, I would not be subjecting myself to a future ear-cleaning. I was thankful for the lack of open mockery (as I’m sure I will receive here). I was told that my eardrum, which is normally clear like Saran wrap, was bright purple and bent inward where it had been hit. I was lucky: no perforation. I was given some pain meds and ear drops. A follow up appointment was made for a few days later. I was told to look for blood and pus leaking from the ear (EW!), as there was a good chance my eardrum would rupture.

Over the next few days, I took the pills and the drops (ten drops at a time – ahhhhh, I hate it!), but by Monday, although the pain was largely dulled, I still felt like I was hearing through water. There had been a small amount of blood in my ear on several occasions, as well. I also occasionally felt dizzy and there was, at times, a great deal of pressure in my head.

Tuesday was my return trip to the doctor, and I got the news I suspected: I had at some point perforated the eardrum. A new round of antibiotics were prescribed (these are seriously the biggest pills I’ve ever seen!!!), and I was sent on my way for a week of healing (let’s hope). I still can’t hear worth a good god damn, but most of the pain is gone (as I’m doped up). It’s really uncomfortable, having an inner ear injury. It just bothers you all the time – you feel weird. Sometimes I hear ringing, and most of the time I’m saying “huh?” whenever someone talks to me.

So, if you see me out and about in the next few weeks and you call out to me from across the way but I don’t answer, don’t hold it against me. I’m an idiot who broke my own ear with a Q-tip. [hanging head in shame].