The Grotto of My Head
So today I am dealing with a Static Auricular Pond. Water somehow crept into my right ear when I was in the shower and is refusing to leave. I know of no real effective way to deal with this malady, and though it is annoying, I'm not about to engage a doctor visit that will result in nothing but snickering at the nurse's station.
Unfortunately, it seems like everything you might do to get that pesky water out makes you look like a crazy person. What I assume is the preferred method, turning your head to one side and banging your fist against your skull, is a particularly worrying sight. I did try it several times, though. No luck.
In looking on the internet for other remedies I might be willing to try, the only stuff I could really find had to do with what happens after the pond is left standing for a while. Any stagnant pool, even those inside your head, grows bacteria. This causes pain, and while what I read didn't say it, I'm sure it would would soon infect your brain, starting a downward spiral ending in madness and death.
Despite the inevitable, I went to work and spent the morning with the feeling of having a faulty invisible earmuff strapped to my head, occasionally trying to work the water free by force of will alone.
But in visiting my local sandwich shop for lunch, I was given an idea by the straws in their Condiment Nook. If I could somehow bend a straw into a semicircle while keeping airflow intact, I could suck the vile lagoon out!
While sitting in my workplace parking lot, I carfully bent and twisted a few straws, experimenting to find the technique that both created the proper curvature and allowed the greatest suction. Once I had something that seemed sufficient, I stuck one end of the straw in my right ear and the other in the corner of my mouth. Then I began to suck. I didn't relish the idea of actually tasting my liquid invader (especially in his earwax suit), but enough was enough. No results were forthcoming on my first try, so I redoubled my efforts, clapping a hand to each orifice. As I really began straining, I noticed something in the corner of my eye, outside the car. The woman who sits two cubicle rows down from me was standing five feet away, just about to get into her car. She was staring at me with an expression of confusion, disgust, and maybe fear. When she saw that I saw her, she immediately got into her car and drove away.
The woman in question isn't on my team, so I don't have any real reason to talk to her. She clearly thinks I'm a disturbing freak, and the debatable truth of that aside, there's no real acceptable way to explain what she saw. "Yeah, hey, I noticed you saw me sucking bacteria from my head. Those drink straws are a real drag, aren't they?" No, there's nothing I could really say. So now I'm just going to pass her in the hall occasionally, avoiding eye contact and trying not to take her shudder personally.
And the real bite of it is I didn't even get anything sucked out. No water. I'm beginning to think there might be Something Else in there.
Unfortunately, it seems like everything you might do to get that pesky water out makes you look like a crazy person. What I assume is the preferred method, turning your head to one side and banging your fist against your skull, is a particularly worrying sight. I did try it several times, though. No luck.
In looking on the internet for other remedies I might be willing to try, the only stuff I could really find had to do with what happens after the pond is left standing for a while. Any stagnant pool, even those inside your head, grows bacteria. This causes pain, and while what I read didn't say it, I'm sure it would would soon infect your brain, starting a downward spiral ending in madness and death.
Despite the inevitable, I went to work and spent the morning with the feeling of having a faulty invisible earmuff strapped to my head, occasionally trying to work the water free by force of will alone.
But in visiting my local sandwich shop for lunch, I was given an idea by the straws in their Condiment Nook. If I could somehow bend a straw into a semicircle while keeping airflow intact, I could suck the vile lagoon out!
While sitting in my workplace parking lot, I carfully bent and twisted a few straws, experimenting to find the technique that both created the proper curvature and allowed the greatest suction. Once I had something that seemed sufficient, I stuck one end of the straw in my right ear and the other in the corner of my mouth. Then I began to suck. I didn't relish the idea of actually tasting my liquid invader (especially in his earwax suit), but enough was enough. No results were forthcoming on my first try, so I redoubled my efforts, clapping a hand to each orifice. As I really began straining, I noticed something in the corner of my eye, outside the car. The woman who sits two cubicle rows down from me was standing five feet away, just about to get into her car. She was staring at me with an expression of confusion, disgust, and maybe fear. When she saw that I saw her, she immediately got into her car and drove away.
The woman in question isn't on my team, so I don't have any real reason to talk to her. She clearly thinks I'm a disturbing freak, and the debatable truth of that aside, there's no real acceptable way to explain what she saw. "Yeah, hey, I noticed you saw me sucking bacteria from my head. Those drink straws are a real drag, aren't they?" No, there's nothing I could really say. So now I'm just going to pass her in the hall occasionally, avoiding eye contact and trying not to take her shudder personally.
And the real bite of it is I didn't even get anything sucked out. No water. I'm beginning to think there might be Something Else in there.
posted by Dean at 8/11/2005 11:52:00 AM
6 Comments:
So, I'm curious, did you ever get the water out?
Perfect timing on this well written documentary about 'pools' and their treachery when internalized. Turns out I have a bladder infection -- caused, OF COURSE, by bacteria hanging out in a 'pool' of water too long.
Glad too, to hear that the straw thing didn't work. I was thinking of going that route on my bladder infection... now I'll think twice.
*note to self: check this blog more often*
The water now appears to have gone away on its own, though I recall something similar happening in "Alien."
We'll see if anything crawls its way out of my forehead later today.
Hopefully Mike's infection is in fact of the more microscopic variety. I would not want to pass an alien, even a baby one, through the bladder's natural exit.
That happened to me once. My ear was "pluged" for about a week. So I know what its like.
I had the same problem. See every morning i go to diving class...and well when I get home, low and behold when I bend down I hear water swishing in my ear. It tends to come out during the night though leaving me with a damp place on my pillow.
try tipping your head to the side and then lifting up on your toes, and dropping forcefully on your heels. repeatedly.
sorry for the inanity of the comment, but i do understand the problem (especailly the faulty earmuff sensation) and this has always worked for me.
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