Timing

Have you ever experienced something where the only thing you can say is, "Wow! That's REALLY bad timing."

A classic example is discovering a pimple right in the middle of your forehead the morning of prom (or any other major life event).

The good news is I don't have a pimple. And somehow, at nearly 39 years old, it is bizarre that there is even a need to address pimples. That, however, is another post.

The "something" that I'm dealing with is a ruptured ear drum. Either I've encountered a fluke of reality, or the rumored hazards associated with water in the Ohio River are true. Yesterday's Gatorade Swim resulted in a bit more than increased comfort with the swim course.

Luckily, ruptured ear drums are nothing new, to me. Because of a cleft palate as a child, ear infections are just a fact of life. The constant use of drainage tubes as a child and young adult left my ear drums perforated and weak. Between water skiing, scuba diving (which I'm now medically disqualified from doing), and diving at the pool, I've ruptured my ear drums numerous times. I'll just have to pay a visit to my ENT after the race. He can determine which part of my patchwork ears have been destroyed, now.

In the end, it will be a bit of an inconvenience and perhaps somewhat annoying. Nowhere near as devestating as a zit in the middle of your forehead the day of prom.