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A few days ago, I woke up an hour later than normal and hobbled down stairs to my mother's furious accusations of neglecting the animals and burst into tears right there in the kitchen. My mom examined me and calmed me down, and watched me like a hawk as I listed around the kitchen, and I yelled that the whole left side of my face felt really weird and hurt, and I couldn't think, and would she please not bother me, Mom did what I have carefully conditioned her to do.
Mom: What did you eat?
Fish: Nothing!
Mom: You had to have eaten something, unless you've developed and eating disorder. Have you developed an eating disorder?
Fish: What now!?
We pretty quickly came to the conclusion that I hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary, and there weren't any new environmental triggers, so I started panicking and thinking maybe I sensitized to something new (remember how I said I couldn't think?) and then I sniffled and said my ear hurt really bad.
Mom: *Presses ear"
Fish: *squeaks like a chew toy* ow.
Mom: Congratulations, you have a swimmers' ear and you're allergic to it. Dry your hair better.
Fish's Immune System: We are so pissed about being invaded, we will attack ourselves!
Fish: *Relays the immune system's interjection*
Mom: I am very worried about this self destructive behavior. It has to stop.
Now, contrary to the title of this blog post, I know perfectly well my ear mold's hyphae aren't slowly making their way through the flesh of my face to pop out my eyeballs, but a girl can dream, you know.
The best thing for a fungal ear infection are drops of one part rubbing alcohol one part white vinegar, so in my hazy state of mind, I mixed up enough of the stuff for every high school swim team in the city. It isn't fun stuff to drop on top of raw infected ear, but oh well. The fungus likes it even less than I do even if I am allergic to rubbing alcohol. Also I smell like a pickle in a first aid kit, but such is life.
Fish: *Drops her concoction into the infected ear*
Fungus: Gah, no! Gather up the spores, this is no place to raise children!
A half an hour later:
Fish: The burning pain from the drops has subsided. I must need more.
Fungus: Ow, ow, OW. I will not go down! You will pay for that! *Twists hyphae deeper into my poor battered ear*
Fish: Ow.
And I had to go out to buy shoes for an interview because my sensible black shoes are really more like brown, and we got them in the little girls' section because it's summer and there weren't any in the women's section, and I have frighteningly tiny feet. So I listed around and said some very strange things (yes, stranger than normal, and no I shan't relate them here, for my ability to withstand humiliation on the web is great, but not that great) while my mom handed me shoes and I dropped them a few times before I could get them on. I feel better now. Anyway, along with kind of odd black shoes, I came home with some very cute red shoes, and I have no idea how this happened.
In other news, I have a shiny, new portable oxygen concentrator, which means that I don't have to ration oxygen. I'm supposed to sleep with it on and drive with it on, and then use it otherwise as needed, and the hiss click sound you hear in the background is me obeying doctor's orders. I actually feel a lot better this way, don't knock it.
Mom: What did you eat?
Fish: Nothing!
Mom: You had to have eaten something, unless you've developed and eating disorder. Have you developed an eating disorder?
Fish: What now!?
We pretty quickly came to the conclusion that I hadn't eaten anything out of the ordinary, and there weren't any new environmental triggers, so I started panicking and thinking maybe I sensitized to something new (remember how I said I couldn't think?) and then I sniffled and said my ear hurt really bad.
Mom: *Presses ear"
Fish: *squeaks like a chew toy* ow.
Mom: Congratulations, you have a swimmers' ear and you're allergic to it. Dry your hair better.
Fish's Immune System: We are so pissed about being invaded, we will attack ourselves!
Fish: *Relays the immune system's interjection*
Mom: I am very worried about this self destructive behavior. It has to stop.
Now, contrary to the title of this blog post, I know perfectly well my ear mold's hyphae aren't slowly making their way through the flesh of my face to pop out my eyeballs, but a girl can dream, you know.
The best thing for a fungal ear infection are drops of one part rubbing alcohol one part white vinegar, so in my hazy state of mind, I mixed up enough of the stuff for every high school swim team in the city. It isn't fun stuff to drop on top of raw infected ear, but oh well. The fungus likes it even less than I do even if I am allergic to rubbing alcohol. Also I smell like a pickle in a first aid kit, but such is life.
Fish: *Drops her concoction into the infected ear*
Fungus: Gah, no! Gather up the spores, this is no place to raise children!
A half an hour later:
Fish: The burning pain from the drops has subsided. I must need more.
Fungus: Ow, ow, OW. I will not go down! You will pay for that! *Twists hyphae deeper into my poor battered ear*
Fish: Ow.
And I had to go out to buy shoes for an interview because my sensible black shoes are really more like brown, and we got them in the little girls' section because it's summer and there weren't any in the women's section, and I have frighteningly tiny feet. So I listed around and said some very strange things (yes, stranger than normal, and no I shan't relate them here, for my ability to withstand humiliation on the web is great, but not that great) while my mom handed me shoes and I dropped them a few times before I could get them on. I feel better now. Anyway, along with kind of odd black shoes, I came home with some very cute red shoes, and I have no idea how this happened.
In other news, I have a shiny, new portable oxygen concentrator, which means that I don't have to ration oxygen. I'm supposed to sleep with it on and drive with it on, and then use it otherwise as needed, and the hiss click sound you hear in the background is me obeying doctor's orders. I actually feel a lot better this way, don't knock it.
