Parfum de Salad

We've all had our routine doctor appointments.  But my most recent one was...well...let's just say at one point I think I was pinching myself.

I had lost my hearing in my right ear for two days, so on Tuesday I called my ENT doctor--Dr. A--to schedule an appointment to see what was wrong.  I was thrilled when they said they could squeeze me in that very same day.  Once there, I was seen almost immediately.  Dr. A examined my ear, and it turned out I just had a bad case of swimmer's ear.  A simple irrigation process would restore my hearing.

He and a nurse's assistant started the irrigation process, which basically involved blowing a bunch of hot vinegar into my ear with some other stuff.  In the beginning it wasn't too bad.  They kept saying, "Are you okay?" and I said, "Yeah, this is like a jacuzzi for my ears!"  But then the power suddenly went off.

I ended up with a doctor on my lap and hot vinegar down my shirt.

Then Dr. A says "Mmmm.  You smell like salad." 

We were laughing so hard we were nearly crying.  At this point most of the office staff was in our exam room, because, well, that's where the party was.  The lights came back on, and Dr. A eventually got back to work shooting bottle after bottle of hot vinegar into my poor over-scoured ears.  He said, "Okay, now this is getting personal. I don't care if I kill you with vinegar, I'm going to get this damn ear cleaned out!" I told him that killing me seemed counterproductive and that he was incredibly unprofessional and asked if there was a comment box on the premises.  He said "No," so I then asked if I could talk to the manager.  He said, "She's the manager," (pointing to the sweet, blond secretary).  I proceeded to file a complaint with her regarding Dr. A's bedside matter, but she didn't seem to be taking the matter seriously and pretty soon we were all in hysterics again.

Dr. A, who apparently likes his women antagonistic, then proposed to me in front of his entire staff.  I told him I was married, but he said he didn't care; he wanted to whisk me away and take me to Italy (maybe my wafting aroma had delicate Italian dressing undertones).  I told him "I can't marry you."  Hurt, he asked "Why?"  I said, "Because you'll always be the man who said I smelled like salad." 

Unfortunately the fun ended shortly later.  The nurse was in my ear with some sharp tool when the lights flickered again, and she slipped and nicked my ear drum.  That hurt.  A lot.  I ended up with a ruptured ear drum, but it's not as bad as it sounds.  I previously thought a ruptured eardrum meant that the whole thing had exploded or something.  It just means a tear in the tissue that separates your ear canal from your middle ear.  I had light bleeding in the ear for two days, and loss of hearing.  It was kind of perfect though because I had a crazy end-of-the-year party at a laser tag venue with my Builders Club members last night, so you couldn't ask for a better time to lose your hearing.   Today my hearing still isn't up to par, but it's improving every day, and the ear's not hurting anymore.

So yeah, between having my life threatened with hot vinegar, insulted with vegetable-dish digs, hit on by the doctor, and leaving the exam room with a bigger injury than I showed up with, Dr. A. should count his lucky stars that I'm not the suing type.