My back faced our kitchen island with dusk just setting in. My parents had the great idea of cutting my ear open with a tiny razor, which was duller than a butter knife, to save us money. My dad held an ice cube on my ear in order to numb it for the pain. My dad started operating on my ear, while I was still able to feel everything, inserting the razor. The scab tore open from the other operation as the incision got deeper. Time passed as I struggled against the the urge to get up and walk away. The razor cut in deeper as a sensational pain pierced my ear. I fought back every pain as my dad finally got to the pouch of the bloody liquid. The force on my ear as my dad pressed down like a rock crushing an ant made me regret every moment of my cauliflower ear.

I was in the locker room waiting for Gilardi to get changed. I looked over and saw him whispering into someone’s ear, and I just knew what it was about. I walked over to him and raised my left hand and put the force behind it as I slapped his back. Turning around, he stopped his words and walked towards me raising his fist as I cowered backwards. He sent a fierce blow, and it hit my ear directly. The pain rushed to my ear like a river approaching the waterfall, and I wondered whether it was worth defending my sister to receive the pain. I thought it was a temporary pain, but time would be the only thing to tell.

  My ear still had the throbbing pain whenever touched or bumped, but in my opinion, it was the best month of the year in the wrestling season, and no breaks were possible. Wrestling was heating up as we were in the tournament season of the year. I was not wearing a headgear in the wrestling room when we were drilling takedowns. My knee hit the mat, and I penetrated into the double leg as my ear slammed into the side of his hip, which was applying correct form. My ear popped and started filling up leaving a small sized rock at the top part of my ear. Some of the wrestlers thought it looked cool, but my mom looked at me with both eyebrows raised and I knew where we were going next.

My mom scheduled an appointment for me to visit Dr. Long. I had no idea of what was going to happen, but I had an idea that it was going to be painful. I laid on the green bed, my feet hanging off the end, as the doctor entered with the supplies filling his hand. I moved to the upright position. The nurse prepped my ear applying a brownish-yellow liquid called iodine to prevent bacteria growth. Dr. Long was then ready to evaluate my ear. He lifted the needle and applied the pressure on three. I sat there and winced a little, but the worst part was over. He withdrew a large amount of blood using the syringe. My ear looked a lot better with the swelling gone, and no liquids were left. The nurse wrapped my ear, and we could have said a blind man could have done better job. The white cotton hung loosely from my ear with two pieces of tape attaching on both sides of my hair.
I was not able to practice that day, and the pressure from the cotton on my ear could not even prevent my ear from filling up again. My mom was steaming about the waste of money they had spent on me. The doctor told her that they would give it another try, and if that did not work I would have to get my ear cauterized. That would have meant that I had to get a piece of my ear burned. We went back to the doctor that week and did the same procedure. This time my ear’s fluid resembled a clearish red liquid of blood and fluid. We wrapped my head with a small rectangular piece of gauze surrounding my ear, and it was wrapped around by tape like a headband over my full head. I was excited the next day when we did not have school, so I did not have to look like a fool and answer a hundred questions. We were all glad when I made it through the first 48 hours of no fluid coming back.

Time could only tell and we noticed my ear was starting to fill back up again. It was finally time to do what had the best chance of fixing the ear and they called it the “button.” My dad and I headed to la crosse and ended up being a few minutes late. I got ordered to my chair and the doctor came in wearing a mask which made it look like he had a broken jaw. I was told that he was going to insert three needles, in the form of a triangle, around my ear which would numb my face. I was looking straight ahead when the sharpest needle I had ever felt jabbed into the side of my neck. I reacted and pulled my head away. I allowed the doctor to continue and a tingling sensation went through the whole right side of my face. I could not feel the rest of the procedure, or the stitches being sewed through my ear to connect the cotton pieces. We were all done and were told we had to come back in a week to get the stitches removed.

On the way home we stopped and ate at taco bell. Chewing was the weirdest feeling ever be numbed. It felt like I was biting my cheek the whole time and my mouth felt extremely swollen. My dad told me that we were not paying to have my stitches removed because he could do it. One week later and I was sitting on the stool with my dad tugging both sides of the cotton trying to unclip the stitches. I was thinking it would have been a lot more peaceful with a doctor doing it, but it was up to my dad. My ear finally felt free, and I was ready for my wrestling camp the next day.

I went to a greco camp at Combat W.C. with the United States olympic coach. I did not want to look like I was scared of getting my ears and face messed up, being the only one wearing a headgear. I decided to not wear the headgear, and the practice was going fine. We were jogging around after the practice when we were told to throw our opponents. My opponent threw a belly to belly, which is my stomach facing his, straight over. My right side of my face scraped his head allowing my ear to make contact and blow up. I was pretty mad when my ear was back to being filled with fluid. I wore my headgear the next two days and prevented my ear from getting any larger or popping.

It was not long after, and I was on the kitchen island with my ear being pressed by two fingers squeezing the liquid out. The first drainage taught me that I did not want cauliflower ear. The second drainage taught me that having pressure around your head for a long period of time hurts. Getting it drained for the third time taught me how to become a smarter person in the wrestling room. My final drainage on the kitchen island taught me that wearing a headgear after getting it drained for a third time would have been a smart decision, and my dad has no sympathy for pain. I also learned that the doctors try to suck as much money as possible from their patients. It has left a mark and value to me, and I will always remember and carry it with me.