Delima Kasih

My brain! My brain! or Go Ask a Glass of Water.

I can hear again. Weeks of agony over earwax (yuk!) trouble ended this morning, courtesy of a good ear-syringing. This involved a skilled, willing operator and an unskilled, even more willing subject.

After spending the last couple of weeks half-deaf, I was looking forward to having my ears clear once more.

The experience is like that of a hyperspace jump as explained to Arthur Dent in the Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (H2G2): unpleasantly like being drunk. My ears were last syringed millennia ago, in another time and place, when ‘technology’ meant the rubbing of two sticks together to get smoke and maybe fire. So it was with a pleasant sense of time-numbed amnesia that I approached my ordeal.

My first thought: ARRG! Brain-suck! Out-my-ear! OMGWTFBBQROTFInAgony! Get away from me, you alien brain-harvester!

However disgusting it felt, the product issuing forth must have been awful. The look on the operator’s face said it all: please can I go home now?

It felt like someone was knocking on the door to my head: Little Brain, Little Brain let me in!

Not by the XYZ hair of my P, Q and R chinny chin chin. NiaMaCxxBxxLatJiewYau!

And after all that, I can still hear normally. Praise be!

posted by plink @ 2:49 am