The One About Jaimie’s Ear Wax Adventure

Category: weekleez

The One About Jaimie’s Ear Wax Adventure
July, 16, 2002

hi kids,

and welcome to jaimie’s pity party! remember when the weekly used to be funny and slightly informative? or at least creative? when did it all of a sudden turn into The Stupid Thing That Happened to Jaimie This Week? unfortunately, this week is no different. this week’s Stupid Thing That Happened to Jaimie is a little story that i’d like to call “Jaimie’s Ear Wax Adventure” or JEWA for short.

it all started over the long fourth of july weekend. i think i spent the equivalent of 3 days in the pool and the rest of the time was either mixing/drinking/more mixing booze. a holiday if you will. a well-deserved holiday i might add.
anyway, JEWA started on the second day because that’s the day i went under water, y’see i don’t like going underwater or getting my hair wet but it was a holiday and if you can’t get your hair wet on a holiday when can you, right? so i go underwater and when i come back up my ear is of course, filled. aw derp.

so now i can’t hear out of my right ear. it’s really annoying. and you might think that if the right ear goes out that maybe the left ear would try to pick up some of the slack of the right ear but no. the left ear is a lazy slob. this makes doing everyday things like listening to music, talking, trying to communicate with other human beings very difficult. because what really happens is that the lazy left ear gets even lazier! that’s right! the left ear decides that since the right ear isn’t working that he shouldn’t have to work either and hearing then becomes a challenge. so when someone is talking to me i have to turn my lazy left ear in their direction to barely hear what they are saying. also, white noise like computer hums and airconditioning become even louder and drown out all “important” noise like voices, sirens and the ring of line two at work.

also it means that when i talk i can’t tell how loud i’m talking. now, i’ve been talking for years y’know? i should know how to talk even if one ear goes out, right? yeah. right. so i talk and it feels like i’m talking normal, but actually i’m talking very, very quiet. and no one can hear me. and i can’t hear them. so all my conversations that week are like Abbot and Costello skits.

by sunday night i’m going crazy and clawing at my ear like a madman (or is it madwoman? madperson?) as if that would somehow help. for future reference scratching, pulling, tugging, shaking and cursing will not help relieve any problem dealing with the ear. now this is really serious. i really cannot hear. really. it’s awful.

so monday brings with it another work week and my ear is still bollixed and of course part of my job is answering the phone and as if answering the phone all day isn’t bad enough when both ears work it’s 7.3 times worse when you’ve only got one workable ear. i must’ve written down 20 wrong numbers and names on monday alone.

now, i don’t know much about ear science, but i do know that there’s a “thingie” in the ear called an ear drum (tympanic membrane) and then there’s 3 small bones also floating around in there and i think they are the stirrup, anvil, and of course the hammer, everyone loves the hammer, it’s like the most popular ear bone. also there is a tiny blacksmith that lives in there and i think he makes the lucky horseshoes.

by tuesday i’ve realized that there cannot possibly still be water in my ear because water just doesn’t not (double negative but i think it works here) come out of the ear unless it is blocked by an anvil or something and by “or something” i mean “oh gross, i’ve got some serious build up in there” and by “build up” i mean “ear gorp”. so i bought an EAR WAX REMOVAL SYSTEM. and by “system” they mean “some drops and a syrenge” but you know, they have to make it sound complicated. system. sheesh.

so i system my ear and nothing. not a thing. and wednesday, thursday, friday i’m deaf in one ear. it’s driving me crazy. so i finally breakdown and go to the doctor. but it’s friday afternoon and i can’t get in to see my regular doctor so i drive over to the local “doc in a box” hoping to get in pretty quick so’s i can hear again.

ok so we do all the signs for this doctor place y’know? and my boss knows one of the ladies that works there and she’s all, “let me call ahead and tell them you’re on your way and they’ll see you quickly!” and i say that maybe she shouldn’t do that because the girl that works there usually calls out here when they need something and i always answer the phone and i get the idea that she doesn’t like me very much. call it a hunch, but when i answer the phone and she says, “listen, is there anyone else there i could talk to?” well, i get the feeling that we aren’t very good friends. we’ll call her “shelly” ’cause that’s not her name.

so i get to the doc in a box and this lady at the front says, “are you jaimie?” i nod because i can’t hear her but i’m pretty sure she said, “hot enough for ya?” so i go to sign in and my name is already there! an imposter! i point to my name and say either very softly or quite loudly (how the hell would i know?) “that’s me!” and the lady says, “are you the one who called shelly?” and i shake my head to the negative because no, i don’t have an appointment. “i’ve never been here before” i tell her. she looks at me like i’ve grown a third eye (and maybe i have) and she asks, “are you jaimie?” i nod and say, “blue cross blue sheild.” she stares. i stare. i hand her my driver’s license and insurance card and she looks at them, nods, and hands me a clip board of paperwork and says, “shelly said to get you in fast. so fill that out and we’ll see what we can do.”
wow, shelly comes through for me!

i fill out the medical sheets and turn them in and the lady gives me back my cards and i go and sit and watch TV. and i mean watch, because i can’t hear what is going on but i know it has something to do with a policeman hitting some guy because that’s what was on the screen over and over and over. and for ten minutes or so i sit and watch this guy punch this other guy and think to myself (or maybe i said it out loud, i’m not sure anymore) “what kind of jerk tapes an arrest?” because by then i’m completely desensitized to the image, thank god. and i notice that everyone in the room is staring at me. then i notice that there is a repetitive noise coming from the back of my head which i now realize is the lady saying, “jaimie? jaimie? jaimie? jaimie?! JAIMIE?!” i turn and say, “i’m sorry. i can’t hear very well.” and she loudly says, “shelly called and said that you should go to our other location because there’s no one there and they can see you faster.” i nod. she says, “you do know where our other location is right?” and i say, “attalla?” and she says, “alabama city” and i nod and say, “attalla.” and she says, “have a nice day.”

so now i have to drive 20 minutes to alabama city and when i get there of course there’s a roomful of sick people and i mumble to myself, “shelly tricked me” and everyone turns and stares. so maybe i said that out loud. it’s hard to tell. so i walk up to the lady at the window and we pretty much have the same conversation as the other lady and i have to fill out the same paperwork all over again. and it strikes me that stuff like this (read: stoopid things) happens to me on a weekly basis. and i know this to be true because you guys read about it once a week.

so i finally get to see a doctor! and she looks in my “good” ear and says, “i can’t see the ear drum.” and i say, “it’s the other ear that i can’t hear out of.” and she looks at my third eye for a minute and then checks out my other ear and says, “we’ll have to clean them both and then check them out.” and she proceeds to ask me questions like, “do you have any outer ear pain? how long have you had this? any sinus trouble? headaches?” and while she’s asking me these questions she’s grabbed my head with both her hands and squeezed it, poked my neck, pinched my chin, squeezed my shoulders, and pressed on my boobs. the last part kinda freaked me y’know? so i say quite nervously, “it’s my right ear!” and she looks at my thitd eye again. so she sends in the nurse to irrigate my ears.

the nurse said, “we’ll start with the left ear since it’s not the one that has the problem.” i say that maybe we should start with the bad ear so we can make sure i can hear out of that one before we tear up the other one. she stared at my third eye.
i’ve really gotta check out a mirror when i get home.

so the nurse starts shooting water into my “good” ear, over and over and over until my shoulder is drenched. nothing comes out of that ear. the only thing that happens is that i can no longer hear anything out of that ear. it’s now just as useless as my other ear. and the nurse looks at it and says, “oh, blargyfeebleha mowbleem.”
“i can’t hear anything now,” i say. her mouth starts moving again.
“i really can’t hear anything,” i say and by now i’m quite panicked. she nods and starts on the other ear and shoots that stuff in there over and over and all of a sudden i can hear! it’s horrible and glorious at the same time!

“hey wait!” i shout. “i can hear now!” and she checks the ear and says, “there’s still some stuff in it. i have to keep doing this ’til it’s all out.” so she attacks my ear again and again and once again i can’t hear anything. it’s horrible and horrible at the same time and i swear i almost cried. then she stuck a pointy thing in my ear and scraped my brain and boy did that hurt. but still no hearing. none. scary. sad.

the doctor comes back in and it’s weird ’cause she calls me “little one” and apologizes for not being able to help me and she starts telling my all of this stuff and i can barely hear her and it doesn’t matter anyway because i am already feeling sorry for myself and wondering how weird it’s going to be to drive home and how long i’ll be without both ears and oh my god i have to play bass tomorrow night and how on earth will i be able to do that with the drums playing and it’s hard enough to hear liz’s guitar and vocal i don’t need this right now dear god i’m sorry for taking my hearing for granted please heal me is it even legal to drive like this i’m dizzy what’s the doctor saying doesn’t she realize i can’t hear her?
“i can’t hear you.”
“oh! i’m sorry! i’m writing to a prescription for some ear drops and an anti-biotic in case there’s an infection and come back so i can feel your boobs in ten days.”
“what?!”
“we’ll see how you do in ten days!”

so i leave and honestly, i’m crying. i cannot hear and now both ears hurt. it’s sad. and i go and pick up my prescription. and i get two bottles of ear drops, and a bottle of antibiotics and i give the pharmacist a check for $140 dollars and i get out to my car and cry again because that’s wiped me out and now i’m mad as hell and deaf to boot. how pathetic. but i pull myself together because i’m supposed to go to brimingham tonight to hear a friend play guitar at some coffee shop and well, how stupid is that? i can’t bloody hear! but y’know i gotta be supportive and i’m going out with friends and so i’m sure i’ll have a great time.

so we drive down to b’ham and it’s pouring rain and we all know my luck with parking lots and pouring rain right? yeah, well deja vu. it’s downtown and there’s no close parking places and so i realize that i’m going to get soaked and the parking lot is of course, flooded. and i, of course, am wearing my hippie shoes and it doesn’t matter. the point is that by the time i get to the coffee shop, i’m still deaf and soaking wet. my pants now weigh 40 pounds and my socksnshoes are as wet as they can be. also i’m madder than f*$#&@! hell. so i glosh my way to the bathroom and lock the door hoping against all hope that they have one of those hot-air hand dryers.
of course they don’t.
my anger becomes a tangible object. i become explosive. i am superfly TNT; a mushroom cloud ready to explode everytime i feel my feet squish. and as if that isn’t enough, as if being deaf and soaked isn’t enough penance for some evil sin i’ve committed at some point in my young life, the shirt i am wearing, which technically is only soaked on the left side, starts to shrink.
THE LEFT SIDE OF MY SHIRT SHRINKS.
the left sleeve is now wrapped tightly around my arm. the right sleeve hangs loosely, just like a sleeve should. i am a deaf, wet, poorly dressed freak. it looks like i’ve misbuttoned my shirt. it looks like i’m a total dork. isn’t this just ridiculous?

with the fuse to my anger now lit i then exploded into a thousand-gazillion pieces. it wasn’t pretty. i immediately blamed god for everything, and proceeded to call him everything but god, lord, and dj jazzy christ, which is just a little nickname for god that he lets me call him sometimes. after the name-calling purge i became very tired and dejected. i grabbed some paper towels and dried myself as best as i could. poor pitiful jaimie.
i went back out and sat and froze and squirmed in my wet clothes and tried to enjoy the music which i could not hear and drink the extra strong coffee that i could taste and surprisingly did not spill all over me. and for me not to spill something is just bonus.

next day we had a gig and it was outside and i was still deef. also it was in the evening and it got dark and there were no outside lights and i soon was unable to see. isn’t this just hilarious? that deaf, dumb, and blind kid could play pinball but not me. nay nay. and you would think that playing the same instrument for 3 years or so that i’d be able to play in the dark. and maybe if i was playing guitar it would have been easier, but i was playing bass and the frets are farther apart and it’s awkward but wait, my bass doesn’t have frets, i have no idea where my fingers are on the fret board, but not that it matters as i have no idea where we are on the song because i can’t hear. talk about a sticky situation! har har har.
i wasn’t booed off stage though. bonus!
actually, lots of people said we sounded the best that we’ve ever played, so i guess at our next gig i’m going to wear earplugs and put a cardboard box over my head. i’ll draw a funny face on it. heck, i’ll draw four funny faces on it so i can change it uo every set. it’ll be a gimmick and we’ll become famous! bonus!
maybe when we’re famous i can afford some ear transplants.

actually my ears are getting better. and heck, for $140 bucks they ought to, y’know? and after a week and a half of ear problems you would think i would be alotted a break from physical maladies wouldn’t you? but as i sit and type this i am trying my best not to scratch at my face, neck, ears, and shoulders, because y’see, i’ve had an allergic reaction to something and now i’m pink and itchy. bad itchy. so itchy that i’m swallowing boxes of benedryl every four hours and have become a zombie. slow, hard of hearing, itchy zombie. i’m sure there is a lesson here to be learned, but the zombiedryl has blocked the synapses to my thinking cap and i can hardly type this without slurring my speech.

maybe next week will be better, yeah?

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