The shit blog of Paul Chris Jones

SATURDAY

Dear Diary. My ears hurt. It feels like each ear has a balloon inside, pushing outwards on my ear drums. It must be an ear infection. I've never had an ear infection before. I thought ear infections were something that only happened to kids, like chicken pox and hiccups.

I feel cold so I put on a fleece. I found the fleece next to a bin one day. It's really good, it's thick and warm. It's my goto clothing when I'm ill. The only problem is that it's size XXL so it makes me look like a homeless man who can't afford proper clothes.

I use a baby thermometer to check my temperature. No fever.

5-year-old's out for the day on a trip with the Scouts and Girlfriend's taken 1-year-old out for a walk so I'm home alone. So I lay on the sofa, moaning in pain. I could take ibuprofen or paracetamol but I don't want to. Pain's natural. Pain's good. Pain is your body's way of telling you to slow down. To take it easy. To rest. To heal. If you take pain medication to numb the pain, then you're ignoring your body's signs to slow down, and you might end up getting worse.

An hour later, I say bollocks to that and I pop an ibuprofen in my mouth. This is the first time I've ever taken ibuprofen, by the way. Today's a day of many firsts. My first ear infection and my first ibuprofen.

Another hour later, the ibuprofen kicks in and the pain in my ears is gone. But I'm still half-deaf. Sounds are muffled. Even the sound of my own voice is muffled. It's like I'm wearing ear plugs: ear plugs that I can't take out.

I'm not the only one who's unwell. 5-year-old has a stiff neck. He woke up crying yesterday and saying that his neck hurt. He'd slept in an odd position. He couldn't twist his neck. He still can't twist it now.

But at least 1-year-old's okay. He's a happy healthy baby.

Girlfriend and I take 1-year-old to the park when he vomits on the pavement. Then he vomits a second time. And a third.

SUNDAY

Now 1-year-old is ill. Every time he eats something, he vomits it back up. Every time he drinks something, he vomits it back up. If he drinks water, he vomits it back up.

On a lighter note, today is Girlfriend's birthday. I bought her a thermal flask and a 1,000-piece Friends jigsaw puzzle. And instead of a cake, I bought her three cream rolls because she likes them. Well, she'd better like them because they cost €5 each. 5-year-old helps me put the candles on the cream rolls. I light the candles and sing Happy Birthday to her.

Then we all go out to the local jumble sale where 1-year-old vomits on the street. A man at one of the jumble sale stands comes over and obliges me to sit on a foldable camping stool while I clean 1-year-old's face with a wet wipe. Then I clean as much vomit as I can from the pavement.

In the evening, Girlfriend gives 1-year-old plain rice for dinner. That's all he can eat because of his sore stomach. But just ten minutes later, the rice comes out of his mouth and onto the floor. The rice is all pressed together, like sushi.

"Quite a birthday, eh?" I say to Girlfriend sarcastically as I clean 1-year-old's vomit off the kitchen floor with kitchen paper.

I read online that pinching your nose and applying pressure by blowing down your nose can help with ear infections. I give it a go but it just makes my right ear hurt.

At 3 am, I wake up with pain in my right ear. I wished I hadn't tried that trick earlier about blowing down my nose. I take another ibuprofen. I can't sleep so I go to the living room and fall asleep on the sofa.

MONDAY

Today's Monday. I

I take 5-year-old to school and 1-year-old to nursery.

"1-year-old's been vomiting this weekend," I tell the nursery practitioner.

She makes a face of anguish. "Oh no," she says.

"But I've been giving him probiotics," I tell her. "So he should be fine now."

I take myself to the local doctor's clinic. I bring a book with me to read in case I have to spend an hour there waiting. But there's no need because the nurse calls my name straight away. By the way, she pronounces my name as all Spanish people do: "Pow-ool Ho-ness?"

I get up from the chair. I follow the nurse to an examination room. There’s a bed, a chair, a drinking water fountain, a bin. A curtain instead of a door. Hospital equipment I don’t know the function of. A bottle that says OXYGEN. There's an ECG, switched off.

The doctor comes in a moment later.

"So what's the problem?" says the doctor.

"I have an ear infection," I say. "It started three days ago."

"Do you have any pain in your ears?" he asks.

"A bit, yeah," I say. "But I've taking ibuprofen so not I don't have any pain at the moment. I had pain in my right ear last night though."

He nods. Then he places a stethoscope on my back.

"Take a deep breath," he says.

I take a deep breath. He listens with his stethoscope.

"All normal," he says.

Then he looks in my ears with an otoscope.

"Oh yes," he says. "Your ear drums certainly are swollen and red. You'll need antibiotics."

He writes me a prescription for antibiotics.

"Take one every eight hours for seven days," he says. "I'm also giving you a prescription for ibuprofen, to take as needed, and a prescription for Pectox lisina, which will help loosen the mucus in your nose."

I fill the prescriptions at the pharmacy. I go home carrying a white plastic bag full of medications. I feel like a medication salesman.

At home I take out the box of the antibiotics. I open the box. I take out one of the silver foil trays. I push out one of the pills. It's a big white pill with AC inscribed on it for Amoxillinia. I put the antibiotic in my mouth and swallow.

The Pectox lisina is a powder. I mix it with water and drink it down.

At noon the pain in my ears becomes unbearable. Every time I hiccup I get a jolt of pain. You don't realise how many times a day your body does a little hiccup until hiccups cause you pain. Also, I take back what I said earlier about only children getting hiccups.

I walk around the apartment moaning and swearing in pain like a woman in the early stages of labour: "Oh fucking Christ", "Ahhh", "Oh fuuuuuck".

It's then I remember it's been nine hours since I last took an ibuprofen. You're supposed to take them every six hours. I run to the bathroom and swallow an ibuprofen. While I wait for it to kick in, I wander around the apartment moaning in pain. I try taking a hot shower but it doesn't help.

Finally, at around 1 pm the ibuprofen starts working and I feel okay again. Thank God for modern medicine.

No, wait a minute. God didn't give us modern medicine. Science gave us medicine. God gave us plague. So fuck God and fuck his fucking ear infections.

Girlfriend has this thing for the kids called Rhinodouche. It's a bottle of salt water for cleaning mucus from your nose. I've gotten through a litre of it so far. Every time I stick the nozzle up my nose and spray, a large amount of slimy green mucus slides out my nose and into the sink. It's quite good.

Before going to bed I take another ibuprofen.

During the night I'm hot. I'm sweating. The sheets are wet with sweat. It's the ibuprofen.

TUESDAY

When blowing my nose I hear a squeaky pop in my right ear. Suddenly I can hear again.

"I can hear again!" I say to 5-year-old.

Later I blow my nose and this time both ears pop, and my full hearing comes back, just for a moment. It must be the antibiotics. They're working. What a time to be alive. I was born after antibiotics were invented and with any luck, I'll die before bacteria become resistant to them.

At 1 pm the pain in my ears starts coming back. I swallow another antibiotic. On a whim, I swallow one of the expired anti-inflammatories too. I wonder if I should take another ibuprofen.

***

In the evening I take 1-year-old to see his grandmother.

"My ear hurts," I tell her.

"Oh," she says.

"It's an infection."

"Well did you see a doctor?"

"The doctor gave me antibiotics. And I've been taking ibuprofen."

"Ibuprofen's for pain. It's not an antibiotic. Does 1-year-old want a cookie?"

"He can't have cookies. He can't have sugar. It's his teeth."

His two front teeth are broken. The dentist says he has an enamel deficiency.

"Well what about a peach?"

As 1-year-old eats his peach at the kitchen table, he watches a cookery show on TV. A celebrity chef is making a bean salad.

"Ohhh my goodness, that's a lot of beans," says my mother-in-law. "What she's going to do with all those beans?"

"Probably eat them all herself," I say.

1-year-old's engrossed in the TV. Not because he likes cookery but because TV is a novelty for him because we rarely let him watch it. If it was up to me, we wouldn't even have a TV at home.

Also, my ears hurt.

9:30

The kids have gone to bed. The ibuprofen is in full swing again. I feel happy. On TV is a girl who never talks, she's on a talk show and she never talks, and it drives me mad. But now I only feel goodwill towards her. She's young and has a face like a small scared mouse. Also, I'm eating nuts and chocolate from a bowl. I have this recipe where I cut a piece of chocolate into little pieces and mix the pieces with a bowl of mixed unsalted nuts. It's good. It's my go-to snack. I'm not sure if it's healthy. I had a cholesterol test a month ago and my triglycerides were 379 mg/dL when they should be no more than 150 mg/dL. Though that could also be because of all the ice creams I eat.

I feel good. I don't feel tired. I go to the bathroom and take another antibiotic and another ibuprofen. Then I swallow a sleeping aid tablet. Then I rub testosterone gel onto my arms and chest.

THURSDAY

I take another antibiotic pill, an ibuprofen pill, an expired anti-inflammatory pill, a levothyroxine pill, a vitamin D pill, and a hair loss pill. And I swallow these down with a glass of water mixed with Pectox lisina.

"I don't think these antibiotics are working," I say to Girlfriend.

"What? Your ears still hurt?" she says.

"Yeah," I say. "And also my vision's gone kind of blurry?"

I'm scared, to be honest. It's one thing to go half-deaf but it's another thing when your vision starts going funny.

"Paul, you have to go back to the doctor. This could be serious."

"Okay. But maybe I'll just wait until tomorrow."

"No, go now."

So I find myself in the doctor's room again. I can hear nurses talking in the corridor but their voices are subdued. The loudest sound in the room is my tinnitus.

A nurse comes into the room. A Latin American woman.

"What's the problem?" she asks.

"Well I have an ear infection. In both ears? And today I started getting eye problems too. I saw weird things in my vision."

She raises her eyebrows.

"Blurriness, I mean," I say. "Just a little blurriness. On the left side of my vision?"

She takes my temperature.

"No fever," she says. "The doctor will be here soon, okay?" She leaves.

A few minutes later, the doctor comes in.

"So what’s the problem?" she says.

I explain it all again.

"Fever?" she asks.

"No, no fever," I say.

"What are you taking?"

I show her the prescription the first doctor gave me four days ago. She reads it. Then she looks in my ears with an otoscope.

"Wow," she says. "Your ears are really red. Let me go see if there's a specialist in." The doctor leaves.

Half an hour later, a different nurse comes in.

"Follow me please," she says. She takes me to the reception desk and leaves me there. The receptionist takes my health insurance card.

"Sorry, but the doctor doesn’t accept your health insurance company," says the receptionist. "Do you mind paying out of pocket? It's €40."

"Oh. Okay," I say.

"Cash only," she says.

"I don’t have any cash."

"It’s okay," she says, "You can pay after."

I go sit in the waiting room. There are a couple of kids with their parents. I need a piss. But if I go take a piss, the doctor will call my name and I won’t be here because I’ll be pissing.

The doctor comes out.

"Guillem?" she says.

A little five-year-old boy gets up with his mom and goes into the doctor's room.

I take the opportunity to go take a piss. It’s a long piss that goes on for ages. I come back.

The doctor comes out. “Lucia?” Lucia and her mom go in. I sit and wait. Lucia and her mom come back out again.

The doctor comes out again. “Olga?” Olga and her mom and dad go in. I sit and wait. Olga and her mom and dad come back out again.

Finally the doctor calls my name. I go inside the doctor's room.

"Now what seems to be the problem?" she says.

I explain it all again.

"Do you have any pain?"

"Not right now, I'm taking ibuprofen."

She nods. Then she gets me to sit on a table. She checks my ears.

"And what medication are you taking?"

"Antibiotics, ibuprofen. Something that loosens mucus? A powder."

"And that's all?"

"Yeah," I say.

She looks shocked. "The last doctor was supposed to give you anti-inflammatories." She shakes her head in disbelief. "I'm going to write you a prescription for an anti-inflammatory. Take two in the morning for the next five days, then one in the morning for three days, and then half a pill for three days." She writes it all down so I don't forget.

I go to the pharmacy and get the medication. The pharmacist keeps my prescription which has all the doctor's instructions written on it. Oh well. Then I go to the ATM and withdraw €40. I take the €40 to the receptionist. She looks surprised to see me, as if she thought I wouldn't come back.

Anyway, that's for this week. Hopefully next week will be better.