deaf

I’m totally fucking deaf in my right ear and therefore in a pitiful mood. This happens once in a while, it’s earwax based of course, not because I don’t clean my ears out but because I’ve been submerging my sweet little head in the bath for everyday for as long as I can remember, and somewhere along the way a piece of this crap has floated onto a vital part of the hearing system.

I feel as if half my brain is asleep, like half my head isn’t ‘working’ and it’s so fucking irritating. On my bike ride to work I called a women in a Mercedes a cunt for parking in front of me and gave a white van driver the bird and a torrent of abuse for not moving out of my way in a traffic queue. As I’m also partially deaf I was unable to monitor the volume of my yelling. Judging by the expressions on the faces of both motorists I think it was one under Brian Blessed.

Last night I met my mate from up the road for a pint in the local. On returning home I made myself deaf in the bath and ate an angry meal whilst slapping the side of my head in order to get some of my hearing back. It’s so fucking annoying, FUCK.

I’ve tried various treatments, Swim-Ear, Otex, warm Olive Oil, knitting needles, nothing works. I do have some Hopi Ear Candles at home but have yet been prepared to commit to an hour lying on my side with a burning rod poking out of my lughole, oddly. The bottom line is that I need to lose a morning making an appointment at the doctors to arrange an ear syringing. I’m loathed to do this, not just because it takes time but because the last time I was at the surgery I was humiliated by a doctor and I’ve not darken the doors since.

I was planning to fly to Tokyo and, as discussed in others parts of this blog, have an aversion to the whole metal tube/fake air deal. I decided to go the doctors and get some drugs off him, you know, for my nerves. Now, without wishing to put to fine a point in it, I don’t look as if I’m one to turn down a drink, let alone drugs. To make matters worse I had a hangover and, well, to be frank, looked dreadful.

I sat in the chair opposite the doctor who was already eyeing me up with more than a certain degree of suspicion. To help my case I upwardly converged to such a degree I sounded like a BBC News Broadcaster circa 1930 that I assume, subsequently, had the effect of making look like a public school rent boy. I began my pitch, which was perfectly honest in fairness to me under a glare of what can only be described as pure contempt by the seen-it-all-before doctor strange.

Under this pressure my speech began to wane, just enough for the perfectly silent Doctor to raise his chin by the merest degree forcing me to perform a body language ‘defence’ action, as soon as I touched my face I knew I was done for, my voice faltered, I stuttered and finally went bright red. By this time the Doctor was staring at me with such intent hatred I think that he’d have actually shat into his hand and flung it into my scarlet face if it weren’t for the Hippocratic oath.

Without a word from him, using nothing but mental power, he forced me to stand, turn and walk towards his door, just before I walked out of his office, I swear I felt his stare in the back of my head give me one final push.

I think those Hopi Ear Candles are in the bathroom.