I'm going to stick my hand up right now and admit it: I do a lot of really, really stupid things. Sometimes, these are things that I know in my heart of hearts are really stupid, but I do them anyway. There's a fantastic example on my home node; I did, in all honesty, once stick my finger into a large pencil sharpener and twist. I knew it'd take my nail off. It took my nail off. There was blood and pain and screaming, and you know what? If I were able to go back, I'd probably do it again. The best thing about that story is that I did it while standing in front of my mum. She claims that she genuinely didn't think I was dumb enough to actually do it. The happy ending is that I still have the pencil sharpener: remember, don't blame the tool; blame the idiot holding the tool.

Other examples of my instances of stupidity? There're too bloody many to mention. One time I was in a lesson where we got to blow glass using a Bunsen burner and small glass tubes; I picked up the tube by the bit that I'd been holding in the flame but five seconds before. 'Ouch' doesn't even begin to describe it. Then there's the time I got my leg stuck down the side of the sofa because I was using it as a bouncy castle. My mother warned me, but did I listen? Nope. Examples that don't involve me being in (physical) pain? One boyfriend managed to convince me he had a glass eye. He only said it as a joke; he didn't expect me to actually believe him. I have a level of gullibility that never ceases to amaze people. My lack of calendar awareness in combination with the annual amusementfest that is April fool's day has lead to more than a couple of embarrassments. Like the time I honestly thought that they were now producing left-handed Mars bars.

The worst thing though is the things that you actively do to yourself that you know are bad; it's been explained to you at length why doing it is a bad idea. But there's this little itch, this little demon inside of you... let's do it anyway. Lets prove to myself that this is a stupid thing to do. As soon as someone told me about the dangers of hyperventilating, I was on it. I went home and I hyperventilated. Then I passed out. Then I woke up. I no longer feel the urge to hyperventilate myself into unconsciousness because I've now done it. THAT ITCH IS SCRATCHED. There are, unfortunately more itches that have since replaced it. For instance: apparently, an ordinary light bulb is an exact shape that, should you be stupid enough to stick one in your mouth, it will cause your jaw to dislocate. At this point, you'd have to go to your local, friendly accident and emergency department to ask the nice folk down there to get it out for you. You have no idea of the strength of will power that stops me from doing this. I know that, one-day, I'm going to go out, get drunk, and wake up in the morning with a light bulb in my mouth. The inevitability of this scenario weighs heavily on my soul.

So, what's all this got to do with caloric testing?

Caloric testing is another itch that I had. And scratch it I did. And oh BOY did I regret doing it. Everyone told me not to, including my grandfather who'd also failed to resist temptation and had done it himself. My dumbness obviously has a genetic component. Though, true to form, I'll probably do it again on the second spin too.

Caloric testing assesses the functioning of the labyrinthine structures of the middle ear, which (in combination with your eyes) are the organs that maintain your sense of balance. If these structures become damaged, then a person will start experiencing severe dizziness and vertigo. The caloric test is used as an investigatory measure in those who are experiencing these symptoms in an attempt to elicit the cause.

The test itself is very simple; the patient lies down on a bed and is asked to focus straight ahead at the ceiling. Then, using a syringe, cold water is instilled into the left ear. This should cause the patient's eyes to start flicking to the right side of the body. Then warm water is instilled into the left ear; this time the eyes should start flicking to the left side of the body. This sign is called nystagmus, and is the normal reaction to this test. A decreased or absent nystagmus suggests a pathology in that ear. The test is then repeated with the right ear. This test is also used to confirm brain stem death.

So far, so good.

Now, if we hadn't got the patient to lie down on the bed to do all this, they would fall over. The test completely messes with your sense of the world. Remember as a child, you would spin round and round as fast as you could before suddenly stopping? At this point you'd drop to the floor, lie there giggling a while, then get up and do it again. Kids are so cute. Also notice how I specify that during the investigative procedure, only one ear is tested at a time.

What I did was instil ice-cold water into one ear, and as-warm-as-I-could-bear water into the other. The idea was to try to stand-up and walk in a straight line. It didn't happen. I stood up. I fell. I curled up into a small pile on the floor. And I was sick. The best way of describing it is like the worst motion sickness you've ever had. Suddenly. With no warning. At this point my friend stepped in and irrigated the cold ear with warm water and the warm ear with cold water; the world stopped spinning.

Then it was his turn.

What, you don't think I'd be so stupid as to a) do this by myself b) not have some other poor sap making a fool of themselves with me? Both of us were curious, both of us decided to go for it, and both of us swore never again.

Life's sometimes about doing the things that you know are bad for you. The best experiences are the ones you learn from, and who's to say that popular wisdom is always right? After all, apparently masturbation sends you blind. But I bet that didn't stop you checking; just in case.