Houston, I have a problem...

I am usually a kind person.  I really do try to be.  I love animals, and I enjoy helping others.  I am affectionate and love holding babies and children.  I am fond of our elderly customers.  I often find myself hugging them.  I cannot think of an instance where I have delighted in the physical pain of another. 

And yet....

Everyday we remove wax from ears.  Everyday.  And I used to think it was really disgusting.  It still is disgusting, but I'm getting over it.  I thank my lucky stars each day that my parents didn't start a nose plug business, or anything to do with anything below the waistline.  Lucky stars, I tell ya.  Anyway, Jesse is really good at removing wax, and he is very gentle.  I assist him by holding the patients ear in such a way that the ear canal is open.  This helps him see better.  This also positions me behind the patients back.  Which was a plus because when I began working here, I was likely to do the "that's nasty" dance during wax removal.  I have since gained more composure, and now only rarely feel the need to do the dance.

Are you wondering what the point is?  I'll get to it now.  Sometimes, when Jesse is removing wax, he hits a sensitive spot and the patient will holler.  Now, remember they are deaf and they don't have their hearing aids in, so often times they can't hear how loud they shout. 

"Oh!"

"OUCH!"

"Yowsa!"

They yell....

And I laugh uncontrollably.

Uncontrollably, laughing and gasping for breath behind their back.  The louder they yell, the harder I laugh.

I feel terrible about it.  I am hysterically amused at the pain of our patients.  I'm probably not going to make the Celestial Kingdom. 

Also, as I was walking one of my favorite customers, Dottie, to her car this morning, I asked how she hurt her leg.  This is the story she told me.

"Well, I'll tell ya!  Every night after I eat my dinner, I go into the back bedroom to play poker on the computer.  (I smiled at this point.  Poker.)  It's dark in there because I have all the lights turned off.  I have one of those chairs in there that the seat swings around.  Do you know what I'm talking about?  (I said yes, a swivel chair?)  Yes, well, she likes to move around on me.  So I began to sit down, and I realize that she wasn't under me!  But by then, I was committed to asittin down!  (I began giggling, trying to look yonder across the street so she wouldn't see my face.)  I flailed about until I realized I was sitting on the chair after all.  But all that movin' stretched something that hasn't been stretched in years.  And now I favor the left leg."

I cannot tell you.  I nearly stroked out trying to hold it in until I got her in the car.  And that's awful!  Poor Dottie, almost fell and hurt herself.  And I think it's hilarious.

It's outer darkness for me, I just know it.