Careful what you wish for…

Worst. Day. Ever.

This picture just does not look as appetizing as the donut, does it?

Let’s step back a bit, shall we.  I had chronic ear infections since I was a preteen and finally was diagnosed in the late 90’s with a cholesteatoma.  A cholesteatoma is not a tumor exactly, despite the scary ‘oma’ at the end ~ it’s more a cyst/tumor of the middle ear.   I had surgery to remove the cholesteatoma and the ossicle chain (the ear bones – hammer, anvil, etc.) then six months later I had reconstructive surgery and had fake ear bones put in.  I’m like the Bionic Woman! 

I have an ongoing relationship with my ENT for yearly check ups and hearing tests.  My ENT is a lovely, lovely man – whenever any other health professionals hear that he is my doctor they get a dreamy look in their eyes and says "he’s the nicest guy ever.  Don’t you think?" The women, especially, get a far away, unfocused look and I have to snap my fingers in their face a couple of times to regain their attention.  He’s pretty adorable.

Well fast forward to about six or eight weeks ago when I developed an ear infection.  One that won’t go away despite antiboitics, drops and the like.  So this is what prompted the CT scan earlier this week.  Results are in today and the cholesteatoma is back and I have to have another surgery. 

This is not the bad part.

The bad part is that when I was in his office and we were discussing when the surgery should take place, yada yada yada – he had my chart up on the computer screen so he could put in a prescription for me.  I notice in the lower right hand corner there is a little box for current conditions or something like that.  I see the ear issue noted.  And under that – – –

Oh this is awful.

Under that it said I am FAT!  As a condition!  And they used the "O" word.  Now it that really necessary?  I mean okay – I am pleasingly plump.  Traditionally build.  Rubenesque even.  But ob…. oh forget it.  I can’t even say the word.  I can’t be THAT fat, can I?  I wear a size 14 (okay ROOMY 14’s and the occasional 16). 

I suppose now a days the 14’s Marilyn Monroe wore are more like a size 8 or 10.   Not that I’m comparing myself to Marilyn Monroe, heavens no.  I’m more the Ethel Mertz build.  Oh I don’t even know where I’m going with this.  I can’t get over that my PERMANENT record says I’m fat.

I do see what needs to happen though.  It’s been a long time coming and there is no more denying it.  The writing’s on the wall, so to speak.  I’m going to have to buckle down and learn how to hack into the clinic’s computer system and update my medical file.

Harrumph.