17th
LANCE-A-LOT
LANCE-A-LOT
Even today, I can see my poor Mother, herself a registered nurse and definitely a rule follower, dutifully taking all four of us girls on the trip to Dr. Mon Pere’s office. We all had bulging eardrums ready to rupture; each our own version of searing pain, due to advancing infections. Earlier in the day, each of us girls, all about three years apart in age, had been complaining about earaches, some worse than others, and after taking temperatures and administering Tylenol for pain, it became clear to my Mom that she would have to make the dreaded drive down Shields Avenue. It was only a matter of time whether we would make it to Dr. Mon Pere’s chair so he could lance our eardrums or we wouldn’t and our eardrums would tear on their own.
None of us would volunteer for this compassionate procedure provided by a kindly ear, nose and throat physician. I’m really not joking. Lancing an eardrum that is about to rupture, means that you use a very sharp scalpel, and with precision under magnification, make a small incision to release the intractable pressure which has built up behind the drum. The result is a predictably sharp pain, that, though understandably distressing to be pleased about, is quickly over with, and the relief of the throbbing and burning of the earlier earache, is gone amazingly swiftly. The long term benefit of lancing means that there is less scarring on the eardrum, which is microscopically thin. Thick scar tissue on a membrane which is delicate and not designed to support any extra weight, can cause a person to experience dizziness from vertigo, since the inner ear’s system of balance becomes irritated. An eardrum that tears on its own also makes a larger opening, which takes longer to heal.
All things considered, lancing is the healthiest solution to this acute problem of infection. Funny, though, the first thing we girls think to do when we get there, to the office of the family doctor we all genuinely love, is to run under the examination table and hide. Actually we think we are hiding, but it’s one of those, “If I can’t see you, you can’t see me,” things that only kids can truly believe. One by one we have to come out and take our turn. We are lifted into the chair by Dr. Gerald Mon Pere, a diminutive and gentle doctor. (I have a theory about doctors like him. His is a special calling. There is no other way to explain how he can with no effort at all cause a 3 year old child, traumatized by a bone marrow biopsy who screams when she sees any other professional in a white coat, to allow only him to lift her on to a gurney for surgery resulting in a smile and peaceful look on her face.) Each sister sits very still in the doctor’s chair and holds on tight. Dr. Mon Pere works quickly and then puts us down afterward as we quietly cry while Mom hugs each of us in turn. Hugging is always a Mom’s job and mine is an expert. The doctor hugs us too, if we want. He’s that kind of man. I think I remember feeling good enough to smile by the time we leave.
I can recall another situation in childhood when I would try to hide as well. When there was tension in our family, such as hurt feelings or disagreements, I wished I could become invisible. I could feel the pressure building in the room, as my sisters or other relatives’ harsh words, which were meant to injure, or possibly some miscommunication caused confused emotions, including possible tears. I remember seeing my Mother, again the dutiful nurse, gathering her family to see if any relational infection had set in that needed to be dealt with. Of course she believed that the healthiest solution to this acute situation was to talk it out, address the issues and thus release the tension we were all feeling. If tears were the result of this type of ‘lancing’, then so be it. The nurse in my Mother was pragmatic that way, but the heart in my Mom would make sure that hugs would be administered all around afterward.
Now that I am all grown up, I realize the wisdom of Mothers like mine. Pressure being the force that it is, with the damage it can do, must not be ignored. Procedures like lancings, whether on eardrums full of infections, or relationships full of tensions, are done out of compassion for people in pain. Though in the short term there is a certain amount of discomfort, if you will step up to the chair, sit still and hold on tight, you will find that the healing process will be excellerated, the scar tissue will not throw you as far off balance and the pain will be able to dissipate sooner than you think. I know that first instincts to run under the exam table can be hard to unlearn, but there is always hope for change over time.
Today, I don’t feel that need to hide and become invisible, but I still want my hugs after I get lanced. Thankfully, I have a Mother who still obliges me.
“Hugs are the universal medicine.”
~Author Unknown~
