The Old Lady and the Fly 

Originally posted on my Facebook on October 19, 2012

 There was an old lady who swallowed a fly--

Well, not exactly *swallowed* but...

Last night one of those damned slow-moving flies got itself tangled in my hair and crawled into my ear when I swatted at it. Did you know that flies don’t walk backwards? Neither did I. But the bugger climbed all the way down to my eardrum! By the way, a fly wiggling in your ear and tapping on your eardrum will trigger your gag reflex and a major nearly-uncontrollable panic.

After an hour of entertainment that would have made Laurel and Hardy proud, my husband and I appeared to have drowned the beast, but I never saw it flush out, even though it might have when he was digging around in the Rx closet for Hydrogen Peroxide and the ear wax bulb. Being dead, at least I couldn't feel it anymore, but I also couldn't get over the idea that it was still in there.

This would have made a great I Love Lucy episode.

Mind you, this morning I drew a deep bath and flushed and flushed with the ear wax bulb, but still no evidence that it was there, or that it was gone—no little hairy legs, nuttin’. But I also wasn't having trouble hearing.

So I went to work, same ol', same ol'. But because I was still creeped out, I decided to drop by the Walk-in and have them take a peek and give me the all-clear. Aaaaaa...No.

"I hate to tell you this, but it's still there. And it's too far down for me to reach."

Not what I wanted to hear.

"We have a great Ear, Nose & Throat doctor, and he can probably get it without any problems," she continued. Then she looks at the clock and grimaces. 5:10 on a Friday night. "Or not...Are you willing to travel?"

To get this hell-bug out of my ear? Oh, yeah. So she went to make some calls.

"Good news! Dr. EN&T is available and will be down shortly."

Super! Now that I knew it was still there, I was getting skeeved again, so the sooner the better.

A little while later, a knock on the door brought a young Intern. "I heard your predicament, and I'm rather interested. Would you mind if I take a look?"

Not at all, I say. Heck, bring a conga line. If my inconvenience can help you sort out another person's freaky ear bug, go for it. Wouldn’t be the first time I was put on parade; I had my daughter in a Korean teaching hospital. Teams of interns and nurses trooped through my room on a regular basis. You get used to it.

"I had one in my ear once," she said. “It made me panic and it felt AWFUL. We got it out at home, though. This one’s waaay back there.”

Ah, confirmation that I’m not a nut case. But also, confirmation that I am so hopeless that I can’t get a bug out of my ear without a committee. Still, that panicky feeling when the bug was buzzing and wiggling and playing bongos on my eardrum was way too strong—logic lost to the weirdness of the experience.

Finally the EN&T doctor came along, dragging the intern behind him. We chat, he peeks, and I’m starting to think it’s a good thing I haven’t gotten a visual at this little bugger. In my ear. Laying ON my eardrum, apparently.

He brought a special tool (look like sharp scissors) as well as the standard ear-peeking light, and eventually, after warning me there may be pressure, pain and a small explosion, he brings the body out with much less fanfare than expected. He checked again--no leftover legs, wing bits or visible bug hair.

Then, he asked if I’d mind if he showed the intern how he did it (“Sure, as long as you don’t stick the bug back in to do it”), and had her go through the motions. She did well, I and could see she felt really honored to be working with him. So when she asked if he’d show her how to check a thyroid, I just jutted my chin out and swallowed when he said “and have the patient swallow…”

And then it was over. Of course he asked if I wanted the fly. Ya…No. And I went home and had beer and pizza. Much better.