God put a bug in my ear this weekend.
You think I’m kidding.
Or speaking metaphorically.
Who knew moths were claustrophobic?
Or so difficult to extract?
It took 2 technicians, a doctor, a very supportive husband, Lidocaine, a barrage of silent prayers, three attempts to flush with a syringe, one near faint, multiple pokes with an eye hook, a warm blanket, many tears, several deep plunges with an alligator grabber, and almost three hours to accomplish the seemingly minor feat.
And here I always thought I had a high pain tolerance.
Apparently insects have barbs on their legs that prevent them from backing up. Apparently all this big guy could do was flutter forward. Apparently he made it all the way to my eardrum before the Lidocaine paralyzed him. Apparently that’s pretty dang deep. Apparently the ear canal has more than its fair share of surface nerve endings. Apparently from here on out I will never linger near a lit porch light for longer than .05 seconds ever again. Apparently Dutchmen plug repairs are all the wood floor rage and the best time to fertilize is in early spring when the ground is cool and damp (Tim had to make me promise not to buy him a subscription to Popular Mechanics for his birthday, else he would never get another thing done around the house).
At least I got to keep the moth.
I think I’ll bring it to class next week when I plan to give my students the talk about the many ways to catch insects for their collection.
The many, many ways.
I’m sure it will be a riveting discussion.
I just hope I can hear it.