I Ear You

 Just in case you have not read this blog from the first entry years back  (AND WHY  NOT?)  a couple of explanations.

First of all, I will be 81 in about a week.   My wife is 6 weeks older than I.  When you get to this age, people start watching you more closely.  A year ago in the great freeze, the defrost had started.  I felt like most of the ice was gone.  The ice was not easy to see - it wasn't.    As I was inspecting the driveway (slopes quite a bit), before I could think or respond, I was down on the ground by the car.  I landed hard on my left elbow pinned under my side.   

If you have never had a fall, they happen fast.  One moment you are up; the next moment you are down.  Gravity is in command.

At the moment of the fall / slip, I thought I was fine.   The pain grew.  It was obvious that I had a problem.  The next day, I went to the emergency room - of course it was a weekend.  The emergency people put in my record that I was prone to falling.  It was a broken rib - they had a fancy, different word for it - not cracked - one of my previous entries below will give the correct term.  Broken ribs are not to be sneezed at (so to speak).

I could not lay down in a bed and get back up - with or without help - too much pain - helpless in Bed they say.   Hmmmmm.  After several days of sleeping in my big chair at night under a blanket of blue, I finally healed enough to be human.  Never had I broken anything in my entire lifetime - and it hit during my 80th year.  Growing old is not easy- as they say.

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Jump ahead to last night.  I don't suppose this has happened since my earliest, early years.    I cannot remember ever frankly.  This is somewhat embarrassing, so roll with me here.

We have a sleep number bed - air it up to your preference and snore away.  Ours is about 25 plus years old and has been losing air.   I have learned to pump it up to a 60.  In about 36 hours it leaks down to a 45.  At 45, the edge of the bed is pretty sloped...not firm.

There I was asleep.  Dreaming.  It seems that the dream had me in Colorado (why?) and there was a boiled egg rolling across the floor which I reached for.  Never caught the egg.  The next thing I knew, I was on the floor in a pile.  It took me a second or two to realize what was happening.   My wife asked if I was okay.  I told her to give me a moment.

I felt moisture on my arm.  It really took a moment to orientate myself, up versus down - left versus right - north versus south.  As fast as I could find the floor with my feet, I told my wife that I thought I was bleeding.  I moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom.   Yes, I was bleeding.  My right ear hurt. By the time my wife followed me to the sink, blood was running down the side of my face off my chin.  We grabbed Kleenex and began to blot.  It didn't take too long. I don't think I lost over 20 gallons of blood.  Not sure of course.

We have this small spray container band-aid thingy which I bought a couple years back: a spray band-aid.  Sure came in handy.  We sprayed the ear liberally - it was cold and shocking to the ear.  The blood clotted.  

In addition to a lumpy dog bed beside the bed  (a nice cushion as discovered), I have a small bedside table-cabinet like thingy beside the bed.  It holds phones and chargers and flashlights and whatever.   It sets about 6 to 8 inches from the bed.   As I see it now, I rolled over, and my head started down between the bed and the table.  The corner of the table ripped the inside of my ear. 

Have I mentioned that I was blessed with quality ears - prolly a dab larger than most folks.   My pictures as a child show that I might have been able to flap and fly.   Never tried.

So there is this inch long cut on my ear.   It didn't go all the way through -or  tear anything.   Just a cut one inch long - tender - easily reopened if hit.  This happened about 5:45 a.m.  My daughter was up eating breakfast and taking dogs out - So, with her help, clean up was attempted.  

I retired to my big chair (see rib injury above) and slept hard for the next 3 hours.   A Kleenex was stuffed carelessly down my ear canal in case the cut reopened.  I didn't want my ear drum to drown.  Think how hard that would be to clean out.

The drama is not over.  I chose to visit no doctor.  The gash looks terrible to me.  It will heal, or it will become infected followed by an ear transplant.  My wife says it doesn't  look so bad and nobody will notice.  She Lies.   If I added an eye patch and a parrot, a pirate I could become.  

Because of my hearing aids and my hearing loss, I wear headsets at night watching TV.  My family hears so much better than I.  But now, with the ear gash - headsets can be uncomfy.  My drama never ends.  I did have one dog that volunteered to clean my ear for me.  They are so helpful in times of need.  NO!  Quit licking me!

I have a photo of the ear.  You may say "Thank You" for not posting.  I am so considerate.

mtz3