As names of medical conditions go, "swimmer's ear" doesn't sound too serious or scary. If you have never suffered from it or heard much about it, you might think it a cute name for a minor ear problem that one encounters when spending too much time playing in the pool. Swimmer's ear?! What kind of pansy condition is that?! I imagine little kids getting it and maybe they suffer some mild form of pain that is more annoying that genuinely painful.

Ahem.

Then I contracted swimmer's ear - in both ears. Not too cool. For 3 days, I had pain in my jaw which made opening my mouth less than pleasant. Chewing food was torture. Yawning was nightmarish. Had the discomfort stopped there, I would've been fine; ibuprofen was able to dampen the pain sufficiently. Unfortunately, this was just a mild preview of what was to come. After giving it a few days, I went to my doctor's office and was told I had swimmer's ear. I was given some antibiotic drops for the infection and some other drops for the pain (which were utterly impotent - they were nothing more than a topical anesthetic of sorts).

The next day was when the fun began. I spent the better part of 36 hours writhing from intense pain that merely laughed at the 800 milligrams of ibuprofen I was taking. Once the pain set in, I couldn't believe the doctor didn't give me any prescription painkillers - either they are worried that I am going to be addicted or they are some sort of masochists and wanted me to suffer horribly.

So, the harsh reality is that this innocuous-sounding condition should strike fear in anyone diagnosed with it; the intense and unforgiving pain of this beast is a menace not to be underestimated. Don't fear the reaper, there are worse things to fear - despite how innocent they may sound.