Pin Back Your Ears A Bit More

Dad wore this little badge on the lapel of his tweed sports jacket; the outer garment men of his generation wore when not in uniform or a suit.  Suits were reserved for weddings, baptisms, funerals, posh dinners and, sometimes, job interviews and court appearances.

The Pea-nut Club developed during the war to support the work of Sir Archibald McIndoe, the Plastic Surgeon who rebuilt the faces etc. of servicemen burnt in action. Treating them led to huge advances in plastic and reconstructive surgery during and immediately after World War II.

Having served in the RAF and WAAF both Dad and Mum knew how many young airmen had had their faces and bodies devastated by fire. 

Each badge cost a shilling, the idea being to raise a lot of money by small donations from many people.  On ships and in RAF stations (don’t know about the Army) friends imposed informal fines on each other for those not wearing their Pea-nut Club badge, with monies going to the charity.

I find it quite moving that I benefitted from the donations made by Dad, and so many other servicemen and women, towards plastic surgery research.

Apropos my own ears.

In the follow up consultation a few months after the operation Mr Schofield told my mother “The cartilage behind your daughter’s ears was as hard as bone.  It would have been impossible for you to flatten them.  I must apologise, I couldn’t quite get the outer ear on one side to curl under properly.”

He had actually done a very good job and only I know where the little imperfection is.

I smile and think of him whenever I run my finger over my ear and feel it.

Having deformed ears has made me quite relaxed about some things.

In my twenties I had to have an internal examination for ‘women’s troubles’ and the doctor commented “Oh! You have an inverted cervix.”  Then quickly reassured me with “Nothing to worry about, just a different shape that’s all.”   

I reassured him with “Well my ears were a different shape to everyone else’s so it’s no surprise other bits of me are too.”    

I think he was a little shocked.

During an eye test, a few years ago, I mentioned to my optician that one eye seemed to let in the light more than the other.

“If I look at Matilda the cat in a poor light she looks more gingery out of one eye and greyer out of the other.”

He took a good look at my eyes, discovered one pupil is smaller than the other and then asked, in a concerned voice “Has this just started happening?”

“Oh no.  It’s been going on for years.  For as long as I can remember actually.  I was just curious that’s all.  My ears don’t match each other, never did, so why should my eyes be identical.”

I turned my head from side to side to show him, because nobody sees both your ears at the same time.