A moment for Mum and Dad

There seems to be a wee bug going around at the moment that’s giving rise to a pretty nasty ear infection.  As someone who’s had a lifetime of problems with Otitis Media – to give it its Sunday name – I really feel for anyone who’s been struck down with an infection of the middle ear; it’s SO painful!

I had measles when I was a baby and, unfortunately, was left with a permanently perforated ear drum as a result. It means that my middle ear is much more prone to ear infections than your average ear and it also means that I can’t ever get any water in my ear (well, I can, but it’s very, very painful if I do).  It’s not really that big a deal, in the whole scheme of things; I’ve always had to plug my  ear when I go swimming (don’t ever buy earplugs – they’re crap. Vaseline and cotton wool is the only sure-fire way of keeping water out of your ear) and I was taught from a very early age how to wash my hair without letting any water in to my lugs.

We didn’t have a shower when I was little, so I had to kneel on the bathroom floor, lean over the bath then use one of those rubber hoses that you attach to the taps. I’m sure that my big brother used to cross his legs so that he could go and use the downstairs loo in time to flush it just as I started to rinse! Countless times my Mum had to come running up stairs to see what all the fuss was about after I’d nearly been scalded by the sudden lack of cold water in the mix!  

I had a couple of grafting operations when I was in my teens; the first time using some skin taken from my head, just above my ear (the shaved patch was NOT cool for a thirteen year old!) and the second time using a new synthetic material. Neither was successful and, not only was I still left with the hole, I was also left with a lot of messy scar tissue. However, as I got older the number of ear infections decreased and I decided that I wouldn’t try anymore operations. I didn’t really have very much more bother, other than the odd wee bit of earache, until I was twenty seven years old and Gemma was nearly one.

For a few days before, I’d had a bit of a cold with the usual accompanying dull ache in my ear. However, this time the dull ache developed into a full blown infection – and it was a biggie! I had to get  morphine injections from the GP over the course of the few days I was at home (to my shame, I was told later that - in one of my delirious moments - I accused my lovely doctor of looking “bloody awful” and asked if he was sure he was fit to treat me!) before being taken in to hospital in the middle of the night – in the early hours of Gemma’s first birthday! I howled the whole way in the ambulance; I couldn’t believe I was going to miss being at home in the morning for my first child’s first birthday.

Following an operation in the morning, and once the intravenous pain killers and antibiotics started to kick in, I was soon feeling a lot better – and couldn’t wait to see my wee girl. I’ll never forget the look on my Mum and Dads’ faces as they turned the corner at the entrance to the ward; relief to see that their wee girl was sitting up in bed and smiling – and pride that their beloved granddaughter was walking, yes walking, alongside them. They’d been babysitting while Alex was at work and Gemma had taken her very first steps while she’d been with them that morning. It was so very frustrating. I just couldn’t believe it; because I’d been stuck in a bloody hospital ward I’d missed my first child’s first birthday and her first steps. However, every cloud etc.... I was, in time, delighted for Mum and Dad that theyd been rewarded with that special moment, for just them to treasure and keep. And that still makes me smile and feel good to this day – nineteen years later.

I’ve been lucky in recent years, I’ve not had too many problems with my gammy ear. I’m a bit deaf on my right side and, of course, I still have to plug my ear when I swim or splash around – but no more hospital visits - and no more missing of special moments!