Having your ears drained can be a very painful experience. I was surprised, in fact, by how much my left ear hurt. It was raw, sensitive, before the needle touched the skin, and boy howdy did it seem to last forever. It seemed to last so long in fact, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could remain still. I had to focus and force myself from pulling away.
If you’ve seen the Lynch version of Dune—a fun albeit flawed film—then think of the pain box. Kyle McLaughlin puts his hand in the box, the box cranks the pain level by exponential leaps and bounds but if he moves his hand the priestess will stab him in the neck with a poisoned needle thingy (there are a lot of “thingies” in this version of dune. The bladeless helicopter thingie, the internal monologue thingie, and of course the weird solid light armor box thingie).
So yeah, it was like that. A few days later I had to return and have the right one taken care of. It was unpleasant, but certainly not in the realm of excruciating.
Odd then, that the left ear was a horrible experience, yet I didn’t curse. I like to curse, and people in pain tend to curse; in fact, for the first 12 hours I believe my descriptive lexicon consisted of “golly” “man alive!” and “highly unpleasant”
My memory isn’t perfect but in 29 years I have NEVER even thought the phrase “man alive!” Is that even a real phrase?! Where the fuck did I get that from?? I know not, seems a bit redundant though. Men do tend to be alive.
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