I have always been told that I am a brave and strong kid, or strong as a bull, but I don’t really believe I am. I would not call myself strong, but possibly brave. I worry about small things that sometimes do not even matter. I have been fighting a never ending battle since my beginning. I almost never get brakes from it, and when I do, they do not last long, and if they do, I require a major help right after. My battle is chronic ear infections, Tinnitus and Chloesteatoma. The battle with this has always been tough, and it’s getting tougher as this year goes on. I went to a fine arts camp for four weeks during July and August. I was there to perform with my Baritone Saxophone, in the second highest band and the only kind of my instrument in the band. I had woken up one morning and felt horrible; head pounding, feeling nauseous and lots of ear pain. I could not move my head without a large change in pressure that would bring me to my knees crying. Eventually, I worked up enough strength to get up. Tears welling in my eyes, I looked down at my pillow- small dark reddish spots. I felt around and touch my ear, wincing at the pain caused by the slightest touch. It felt like my ear had been shot; nonstop throbbing and a ton of pain. My ear was crusty with the same color of drainage that was on my pillow. I quickly flipped over my pillow so my cabin mates would not see it I grabbed my bathroom bag, my blue, Blue Lake Fine Arts Camp polo, my sweater and my jeans that I had laid out the night before. I ran into the bathroom, checking under every stall and at every shower. I was alone. I locked myself in one of the bathroom stalls, and wept. I could not stop but eventually the pain and pressure became too strong and I had to stop.  I could tell I was not hearing as well as I was the night before. Something was defiantly wrong.

It was Tuesday, which meant I had five days left of camp. I was questioning to go to my unit director and tell her that I have to call my mom, but being the person I am, I stayed and didn’t tell anyone. The week went on. It was very painful to play my in instrument, but I had to play on. I was the only one playing my part in the music, so my director would know that I wasn’t t playing. Every time I would change the way I was sitting or lying, there would be a change in pressure, which let me know that there was fluid behind my eardrum and that I most likely had an infection. Then there became I point that I could not take it anymore. So I went to my unit director, Ashley, and asked for my Ciprodex, which are ear drops. I said, 
“Ashley, I have been having a lot of left ear pain and I was wondering if my Ciprodex was in your medical cabinet in the medical hut.” She answered with,
“I don’t think so, but we can go check.” We walked to the hut, she opened the cabinet and looked around, and then she took out the medical log to see if it was checked in. “I don’t seem to have it, and it’s not checked in,” she finally answered, “your mother must not have dropped them off. I’ll call the health lodge up at main camp and see if they have them,” she told me.  She called the health lodge, they didn’t have them either. “Are you sure you are okay, because you can go up to the health lodge and they can possibly check your ear out.” That imminently freaked me out. I do not trust people besides my ear surgeon to look and or touch my ear, especially when it hurts as much as it did.
“No, I think I’ll be okay for now, I was just wondering,” I told her with reassurances.  I left the hut, and went to the rest of my daily classes.
The day went on, I was in pain, but not enough to face my fear and have someone who for one does not know me and two, does not know my history.  A day later, the pain was worse, so I worked up enough courage to go to Ashley and tell her that I was still in a lot of pain.  Ashley took my temperature so see if I had a fever, I did not have one. She told me that as soon as breakfast was over, to go to the health lodge and tell them what was wrong.  So as soon as breakfast was over, I made my way over to the health lodge and waited for them to call me into a room. My ear was still draining at this time. About 40 minutes into my first class, they called me in. they asked me what was wrong; I told them about the pain, the drainage, and the lump on the back of my ear I had discovered earlier that day. The person who was taking care of me said that at this time she could not do anything for me so I was instructed to make an appointment with the nurse and to come back later so she could possibly take care of it. I made an appointment for after the class that was currently going on. I went back to my current class for about five minutes. Trenching through the sand and rocks and up the hills, I finally got to Birdland where I was taking listening lab. I just sat down and class was over, which meant I had to go all the way back to the health lodge for my appointment.
Once I was there, I had to wait for an hour. They soon called me in and took me to one of the rooms to wait for the nurse. The nurse eventually came in, asked me what was going on and told me that she was not allowed to look into my ears because of my condition. She left the room. She soon came back in with my mom on the phone. I got to talk to my mom for a bit, asking me how I was, how bad the pain was, what was draining, and if I would like them to take me urgent care. I knew that if they would take me to urgent care, I would have to explain my condition fully to the staff there and they probably would not fully understand it. So I had told her no. I asked her,
“Are you going to have to call him? Tears welling up in my eyes hoping she would say no. I wanted to try and make it as long as I could, but deep down, I understood I couldn’t.
“I’m going to have to call Dr. Bojrab,” my mom had told me. I didn’t bother to hold back the tears, I just let them flow. It wasn’t an annoying cry, loud or obnoxious; it was just pure sadness and a steady flow of tears.
Time went on and I managed to calm myself down. The nurse had come back in and had told me that my mom had said that my Ciprodex was here, and guess what; it was back in my unit, in my unit director’s medical hut. I wasn’t sure to be happy, mad, or relived. I was happy and relieved because my ear drops could possibly make me feel better and could possibly fix whatever was going on. I was mad because days ago, I had asked her for them and she said she didn’t have them.
“You can go back to class now,” the nurse said. “Or you can just go back your unit and take your ear drops. You have to take them three times a day. Hope you feel better soon,” she says as she hands me a pass to get into morning practice. I walked out the health lodge and stopped, deciding whether I should go to my unit and take the ear drops, or to go to morning rehearsal. I went straight to class, handed my white pass to my director and joined in rehearsal.
The week went on, and the pain never got better. I found that as the days went on that I was not using my four hours of breaks for fun and going down to the beach or main camp, I spent them crying or sleeping in my cabin all alone. The season was finally drawing to a close, my parent s were finally going to take me home and we were going to figure what is wrong. I say is because we still don’t exactly know what is wrong. The week finally ended and my parents came to pick me up, welcoming me in warm arms and hugs. I could already tell my mom was worried, just like me. After my performance we left the campus, drove by the beach and stopped at an Applebee’s for food. Then we finished our four hour drive home.
My mom had told me that my ear appointment was the Tuesday that I was home. I had to go all the way to Providence Park hospital to this office. One we were there, we went in and found the office. We waited in the waiting room for what had felt like hours. Finally, I was called back. I was extremely nerves, because I do not like pain and whenever he does anything it hurts, but I can normally take it without shedding a tear. I was worrying this time because home much I had hurt and I only remembered two other times I felt pain like this come out of nowhere, when I was five and had to have my whole left ear completely redone and last year when we found out that I had an Chloesteatoma. We made our way to the room that my nurse was leading me to. He came in minutes later.
“DALLAS! What are you doing back so soon?” he said with worrisome in his voice. I and just been here six weeks ago and was told I could come back in four months. I told him everything, the draining; the pain, the lump, the change in pressure and that I could not get my Ciprodex right away. He told me he wanted to look and see what was going on. “There is a larger infection in her left ear that had spread behind the eardrum. The ear drum is not fully recovered and she has another Chloesteatoma deep in her ear. I’m going to clean it out, put peroxide in there, and then the Ciprodex.” He told me. “Can you feel and hear the bubbling?” he asked me. I nodded yes,
“It doesn’t sound as loud as it normally does though.” I explained to him.
“You might have lost some hearing from either the growth of the Chloesteatoma or the infection. If it’s from the infection, the hearing might come back.” He explained to me. “I will see you in a couple weeks and we will discuss what to do from there.” He shook my and then my mother’s hand, and told me, “One day, everything with will be fine.” I hope he was right.