Last night I was trying to fall asleep (Michael was long gone) and I heard a very strange fluttering in my ear. I wasn't immediately freaked; I thought a few strands of my hair had gotten down in my ear canal and the draft from the fan was moving them. So I sat up, pushed my hair to the other side of my head and swiped the outer part of my hear with my finger to make sure it was clear. Everything seemed okay. Then I heard it again. I was little more concerned this time, but occasionally I hear wierd things due to an ear wax build-up (gross, I know) so I thought that might be it and stuck my finger down a little farther in my ear to see if could get some of it out. I know this is not really safe, but I was tired and really didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't find anything, but I heard the fluttering again. This time I screamed and shook my head, which only made it worse. I screamed again. Michael, bless him, is instantly reactive to my screaming and he woke up and turned on the light. My screams weren't loud and long at this point, they were more like emphatic, high-pitched whimpers, but Michael was still concerned, especially since I think I had started to cry. With the light and Michael's concious presence some rationality returned. He asked what was wrong, and I told him 'my ear' but nothing beyond that. It happened again; this time I screamed very loudly because I was beyond rational thought. I knew there was SOMETHING in my head and I didn't know how to get it out! I couldn't get this point across to Michael while I was so freaked, so he was thinking along my original ideas: hair, ear wax, something normal that really wouldn't reduce me to screaming and tears, but he was tired and still partly asleep, so he may not have noticed the tears. He managed to get me out of bed and into the bathroom (keep in mind that the fluttering won't stop and I can't help but make strange noises of frustration, confusion, and slight terror) with the idea that a Q-tip might help me with whatever was going on. He handed me one and I stuck it in my ear and came up with a little ear wax. Seeing that calmed me down a little bit, thinking that maybe it really was ear wax and I just hadn't been able to get to it with my finger. The fluttering stopped too, so I thought that might really be the end. Then it started again and I freaked out all over. I stuck another Q-tip in my ear, farther down this time and heedless of the fact that I must be very close to my ear drum. I drew it out and low and behold: a dead mosquito!
I was pissed. First, you must understand, I hate bugs with all my being. Not insects, mind you, bugs. The creepy crawly insects that are just nasty! Butterflies don't count, neither do caterpillars. Rollie Pollies are ok, and there are probably a few others I can't think of. Roaches, bees, wasps, moths, mosquitoes, beetles, crickets, etc, are my worst nightmare. I just can't stand them. More than once I have been reduced to tears by their mere presence, and hysteric screaming when many of them are too near to me. So, I hate bugs.
Secondly, losing my hearing or having it impaired would be awful to me. I could do without my sight, because I would still be able to communicate readily. Losing my sight might have more impact on my life, but music is such a joy to me that I'm not sure I could stand to lose it, along with the sound of Michael's voice and other people and things dear to me. I despise silence nearly as much as bugs, so to be hearing impaired or deaf would be very hard for me. That stupid bug could have bust my ear drum, or caused me to in the effort to get it out. I think such things can heal, but it could heal improperly or not at all, and then where would I be?
Finally, I was already having trouble getting to sleep, and now I knew I would have to stay up for a bit and relax before I could even think about getting to sleep. That was compounded by being worried about what damage might have been done to my ear, even though I wasn't in enough pain for the drum to have busted.
Stupid bugs. I know there is a use for them in grand scheme of things, but I wish they would just stay away from me.