Ear

"Morning Doc!" Pauline Lamb calls as she clumps into the waiting room, dropping a large satchel on her desk.

"Pauline, don't shout! I'm not deaf!" I answer. I glance at my watch. "Pauline, you're late!"

"I'm not shouting," she calls back. "You're shouting…" she trails off and finishes with "And I'm not late, you're early."

I march into the waiting room and tower over her. "Pauline, don't argue with me." I push my watch into her face, as she turns on the computer. "See? 8:45!"

"Alright, alright. So I'm 15 minutes late, I'll catch up at lunch."

"What? You mean you will forego a forty-five minute chat with Al Large today? And clear off this rubbish." I poke her satchel splayed over the appointment book, phone and supplies.

She stands and growls. "It's not rubbish and I need a cuppa." She pushes past me and heads to the kitchen.

"And besides…" Before I can finish the front door opens and a teenager slinks in.

Pauline stops and grins at me, with delight. "Miss Ellis, your 8:45, doc. Morning!"

"Morning," the blonde girl mutters. She's wearing shorts, a tank top, and sandals. Not remarkable.

Cut off in a much awaited upbraiding I can only follow through. "Ah, yes, morning." I say to the girl. "Go through." I direct her to the consulting room.

I follow the girl who I've not seen before. "Sit down."

She slumps on the chair in front of the glass and steel desk, which I just cleaned and polished. "Have I seen you before?"

"Well, not in surgery, have you?" she snarls. "But I'm registered and all that."

"Oh, right. Well, Miss Ellis…"

"Judy."

"Judy, what seems to be the problem?"

"This." She pulls long blonde hair from over her left ear. "It hurts."

"Oh, haven't seen one of those in a while." The ear is inflamed and twice normal size.

"An ear?"

"No you silly girl, of course I have seen ears before. Haven't seen a giant aural cellulitis in this surgery." I point to the examination table. "Sit on the examination table, please."

She sits on the table as I pull on gloves and bring out my otolaryngoscope. Just charged the battery and the light is nice and bright. "Let me just look…" I touch her ear and she jumps. I feel her forehead – it feels above normal temp. The eardrum also looks slightly red, not a healthy color.

"Owww! God that hurts, doc! Be careful!"

"Just examining the tissue." Her entire ear is swollen, hot to the touch, and firm under pressure of my fingers. "How did this happen?"

"I donnoh. Just happened. Woke up yesterday and it was like this."

I see a small scabby spot on the front of the upper aspect of the ear. "What is this…" I start then see another spot on the rear of her ear. I roll back my exam chair and give her a hard stare. "You've been piercing your ears!"

"No, have not. Not me."

I strip off the gloves and throw them at the bin. At the desk I pull out a prescription pad. "No of course you haven't. But I suppose that one of your little friends just happened to come at you with a hot sewing needle, I'd say in the last three days, and she just happened to jab you in the ear! Right through too!"

"Well. Brigit and me was talking about pierced ears – my dad and mum don't like 'em – and we thought we could do it?" She touches the ear and winces. "Then this. Can you help doc?"

"Just the one ear?"

"God yes. It hurt like hell, sorry doc."

I take her temperature and the digital thermometer shows it's elevated one degree. "Been draggy have you? Been eating well?"

"A bit. Couldn't eat breakfast nor tea yesterday either."

"You have a cellulitis of the ear. It's caused by bacteria. The bacteria that we all have on our skins. By driving that needle into your ear you've allowed bacteria to fester. Now you see the result! You also are running a slight temperature as the bacteria have gotten a hold."

"But Brigit heated the needle with a match!"

"Typical. Been talking with your friends and you injure yourself."

The girl looks downfallen. "My mum will kill me, and when dad gets home from work, well…"

"I'll prescribe an antibiotic. You can also keep a warm, not hot, compress on it, which will promote blood flow to the organ."

"Ok," she replies. "Will it take long to get better? My dad works on one of them oil rigs and if it's gone by the time he gets home in ten day..."

"Yes. It will be fine. Your mother… she uh…"

"Mum works nights. I'm in bed by the time she gets home form working at the Lamb Pub." The girl brightens. "So they don't have to know."

"No, I suppose not. Unless you tell them."

"You won't?"

"No. You are my patient." I start to write the notes. "You're how old?"

"Seventeen this past month.'

"Right. Well this is not life threatening, and does not involve a major injury, but…"

"But what?"

"If this happens again, to you or to your friend Brigit, then… I must."

"God no! Never again." She slips off the exam table.

"I do recommend that you talk to your parents about this. It doesn't do to keep secrets." The girl looks about to cry. "Look, if you want pierced ears, I can do them for you. Here in surgery under sterile conditions. Not in some mucky bedroom with a sooty needle. Understand!"

"Yes, doc."

I hand her a tissue. "Ellingham."

"What?" she sniffles.

"I prefer Doctor Ellingham."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." She grabs the prescription slip and turns to the door. "Oh and doc? "

"Yes."

"Sorry about teasing you."

I can't recall ever having seen the girl before. "I'm sorry I don't seem to remember; when was this?"

"Oh, you know." She flees.

Silly girl. "Next patient!" I call to Pauline. Teenagers!