I don’t do anything by half measures. The ear vacuuming nurse announced yesterday that both my canals were 80-90% blocked, only three months after I last got them suctioned.
Blimey.
She’s put me on a special frequent flyer plan that’s going to save me squillions. I’ll pay about $80 less each visit if I book four appointments a year. And before you ask if she’s a scam artist, she showed me what she extracted from my right ear and I literally squealed at the size of it.
I am a bit over visiting nurses and doctors though, which is possibly why I forgot to call my GP yesterday. He’s super keen to discuss all my specialist results with me. I’m only keen to hear them if there’s a simple cure, like, don’t consume lactose and you’ll be right as rain.
I’m currently verging on needing a Webster pack for all the bloody pills I’m now taking. To think six months ago I was smugly taking none …
I added a few Nurofen to the mix yesterday to get me through being back in the office, as I’m still woozy from my virus thing that I caught last week.
I also got some bad news from a non-medical professional – a coward who’s been avoiding my calls for a week and sending slimy text responses instead, calling me “mate” and promising to ring “tomorrow morning”, “this afternoon”, “later today”.
I just needed him to pick up the phone and actually speak to me for a few minutes. I wasn’t going to rip his head off, I simply wanted closure. Minutes after telling me he’d call the next morning, he shot off an email with the answer I’d been dreading but expecting.
Grow a pair, mate.
Grrrrrrr.
I will give you all the gory details when I can trust myself not to slander him. I can’t afford a libel case, I have too much ear vacuuming to pay for.
OK, time to haul my weary body out of bed and get cracking on the day.
Song of the day: Blondie “Call me”
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