Pardon doctor, you say I’m deaf - Writers Forum

martyn23 · 05-24-2006, 02:33 PM

Pardon doctor, you say I’m deaf

I’m deaf. Like many old men and people that have spent year after year listening to the sounds of mentalist megalomaniacs bang drums and heads together in a style of music named after a material, I can’t hear a thing. For the last couple of months my ears have been fluttering like a drunken butterfly and then ringing like a psychotic phone. I’ve also found it hard to hear people and for some reason unbeknown to me, my nose has been running. A lot.

Obviously, the first thing I did was to tell my mum who took me entirely seriously by pretending that she too was deaf. Every time I uttered the words “can’t”, “hear” and “deaf” she would reply with pardon, which as I’m sure you will agree is deeply irritating, in a similar way to sitting on itching powder.

Eventually she got tired of my whining and decided to book me in at the doctors for a check of my lug holes. Ironically it turns out that I have a liquid trapped behind my ear drums. The doctor, who had a sense of humour similar to a pepper grinder, likened it to my ears trying to function in a huge vat of glue. This of course made my mum feel exceedingly guilty as she had spent the last few weeks of my moaning taking the p***.

I must confess that I revelled in this guilt but it was short lived when the doctor described the way my treatment was to be taken. It turns out that in order to remove liquid from my ears, I need drops inserting into my nose. A task, apparently I can carry out individually.

It involves positioning myself in a position common to the likes of Daniella Westbrook, tilting my head backwards and then shoving a huge syringe down my nose. Two drops are then dispersed into my hair lined holes and a spazmatic tingle is sent to my face, via all the tubes, holes and hairs separating my inner ears from my outer shell. This is a lot harder than it sounds. My dad decided to help me, but instead of sending the drops down my nose, he decided the cream carpet needed its ears de-gluing and so spilt the entire bottle on the floor.

Faze two of this treatment involves one of those stupid Vicks nose clearer dispenser things. Two squirts in each nostril does the trick. One slight problem though. My right nasal tunnel is fine, it goes in properly and I can get the two squirts needed, my left however is a different school of badgers.

For I start I can’t for the life of me stop the dam thing pinching my lip. I don’t know if it’s my total inability to use my left hand or the fact that I’m a butter fingered buffoon. Either way my lip is in a great deal of pain and looks like its been attacked by a crab.

So, with my technique nearly mastered (well, kind of) and my course of nasal flushes nearly over I can report no change in my hearing, but a significant increase in my need for toilet tissue and an increase in solo nostril blowing activities. I don’t understand why this has happened though.

I must confess however, that from the start I was a bit dubious. Think about it. If I have a lake of liquid swishing around in my ears, putting more fluid down there isn’t going to make it better- is it? And why does it have to go down my nose. Before the doctors prescription pen of wisdom signed the paper to say that I needed nose drops, the only thing wrong with my nose was a few stray hairs and a bit of a snuffle. Now it’s more like a tap, continually pumping out snot.

I keep blowing in an attempt to clear it, but in the same way as squeezing a tooth paste tube, more comes out. I’m now talking like I’ve had a house built on my throat and when I laugh I make a wheezing noise. I don’t mean to sound pathetic, but I’m sure this can’t be good.

For now I think I should continue the daily drops of droughting fluid into my ears and hope that over the next few days they manage to cure my cold and clear out my prit stick ears. If they don’t, then a trip back to the doctor to tell him I’m deafer now than I was before is in order. Which, with him being as understanding as a string of cheese, isn’t something I particularly want to do.

But now I must go because once again, my nose is starting to run.