I don’t like my ears. There I said it. It’s official. They are particularly tiny, very unhelpful, are prone to hellacious ear infections, and now they are “angry.” That’s right – My doctor said they are angry.
The odious journey with my ears has been a life-long one. When I was in pre-school I took part in the ancient custom of hiring someone to violently shoot needles into my young and princess-wannabe earlobes, so I may also adorn my ears with sparkly items of my choice. This would have been a great and a wonderful way to usher myself into societal acceptance, yet I have what the piercing pagoda’s staff call “soft earlobes.” That’s right, my ears cannot even hold a nice stud correctly. Within a few months of the ordeal, the Snow White apple earrings were found on my bed having worked their way out of my ear. (Apparently my ears may only serve as vacation homes for Snow White-themed jewels.)
The only good thing my ears do well is act cute. They are tiny — noticeably minuscule, so many an individual has exclaimed their size in cute-filled delight. This would be awesome, except I also have tiny INNER-ears – that’s right. I get horrific ear infections, all the time. Babies get ear infections. You grow out of them when your ear canals grow. NOT MY EARS! Acting as the naive Peter Pans of the aural world, they insist on being slain to the ground at least twice a year. This then leads to hours of google searches reading about babies and how to treat their ears so The Man can help me out – his 22 year old fiancee. This does not help me feel mature.
So I finally had it, and a few years ago I tried to mask my dissatisfaction and overall ill-will towards my moody organs of auditory perception. I decided to get a fancy piercing to at least make the upper cartilage sparkle. Maybe if I was proud of my accessorizing capability, the fact that my ears and I are not friends would dissipate!
Almost three years later, I began to notice that fashionable cartilage was tender. A month or so later I noticed a bump. Not a tiny, cute bump but a nasty LOOK-AT-ME monstrosity that looked quite upset about having to exist at all. I pondered removing the piercing on my own, but I began to wonder what would happen if I decided to take these matters into my own hands.
I could have bled out alone and embarrassed. I could have ripped my ear off New Testament style. But in all reality… it would probably hurt like a herd of mother hippopotamus were running at full speed into my head.
So I sucked up my pride and went to the doctor yesterday. I explained my life-long quarrels with my ears, and the doctor explained that something recently had made my ears angry. They got bumped, and acting just like snotty teenage girlfriends they decided to flip out. Compensating their angst with extra bumps forming, I am stuck with my nasty looking bump until further notice.
After we reenacted my worst fear of the herd of hippos and she removed the piercing, I asked her if she could simply eliminate the bump mob style……..She explained that if she would to cut off the bump, a newer and angrier bump would take over. My only option is surgery.
Alas, my ears have won the battle for now. Hopefully I come out on top for the next one!