Recovering Idiot "Buy The Book"

Everyone who's bent needs a place to vent. This is my place.

Ear today, gone tomorrow

I’ve made a post or two that hasn’t notified my Facebook friends. You might look back at past posts just in case you missed something. I flipped a couple of switches and hopefully fixed the problem. Now for a long overdue post…

Two things are certain. This is my first post in a month, too, Or three.

Secondly,  this is going to make a few of you sick and the rest of you queasy.

A year or two ago I started noticing a bump appearing on my ear. It kept getting bigger and bigger. Several people called it a goiter. Goiters emanate from thyroids. Since my thyroid isn’t in my earlobe, it ain’t a goiter. I guess it must be an earitator.

Finally, after getting sick of being called a goiter carrier, I decided I better get it checked. In another couple years, it is on track to be as big as my head. Besides that, it could be cancerous.

Being an inventor, always taking things into my own hands and mostly because I hate paying outrageous fortunes to the medical profession for goiter removal, I decided to take it on. Myself.

I bought three gallons of liquid nitrogen and gave it the cold treatment. Didn’t do a thing.


The above scaley photo is what the earitator looked like after I froze it down to 340 degrees below zero. It was tough. No contraction. No reduction. No satisfaction. My apologies for the excess skin and baby whiskers.


A few days later after no visible change from the liquid nitrogen, I decided to break out the big guns and found a loaf of bread wire twister upper. After tearing the middle part off, I wrapped the wire around the goiter wannabe. All it did was make it mad. It got red and really started thumping me with pain.

Not only was the goiter look alike mad, but the pain made my entire ear and face get red.


It got to hurting so bad I released the wire tourniquet after a sleepless night and took a softer approach. My ear and face returned to their natural color but the goiter was still ticked. Floss and half a toothpick later, I had the goiter lassoed and choked down with a friendlier noose made of plastic. It still hurt and was redder than ever.

A day and a half later, after looking sideways at everybody I met so they wouldn’t see my just-invented medical device and steal my idea, I took it off. The pain was intense and I was almost at the end of my flossy rope.


Goiter was mad. What more could I do? I had hoped he would fall off but my pain threshold was maxed out. Now I had a dark red bulb on my ear. I now know exactly how Rudolph felt.


The next day was church. I did not want to mingle among the masses and be called Rudolph and Goiter in the same sentence. So I had Michele apply some of her makeup.

Now I looked like all the women in church. Nobody called me Rudy or Goit. Everybody called me Ben so I know it worked. It was surprising they didn’t call me Benita.


I had one card left. Dry ice. Dry ice isn’t as cold as liquid nitrogen but it’s still chilly–100 degrees below zip. I bought two pounds of nuggets and stuck those suckers on this tough bump. For a good fifteen solid minutes. About halfway through, I called up some Google images about dry ice injuries.

People who have put their skin in contact with dry ice for more than a few seconds end up with severe blisters and injuries. This new info kinda scared me. I started having visions of a old guy looking a lot like me sporting a large gauge hole in his ear, just like the young folk do for decoration.

But Goiter was tough. I froze him many times over. He turned a little white and spit out some blood but was still there, bumpier and redder than ever. After 2 lbs of dry ice, I gave up and called the doctor.

I’m going in tomorrow and do it their way. I hope they don’t ask why the bump is so mad.

I’m going to try to get all the bang I can get for my buck. I’m going to see if they will sign me up for disability payments since my right earlobe has been rendered pretty much useless. If they won’t do that, maybe they’ll give me a handicapped sticker for my car.

If they don’t do that, I’m going to leave, pretty ear-i-tated.









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