He whispered numbers from the corner of the room and wanted me to repeat. He slapped me gently with a tuning-fork on the head. He tucked an «enema bulb» into my nose and made me scream out «Parokhod!» while he squeezed it. And no, he is not my perverted erotic fantasy. He is reality. The otolaryngologist who was trying to figure out why am I deaf in one ear.