Sunday, July 28, 2013

La-la-la-la I Can't Hear You

After my recently renewed commitment to blogging more regularly, I ended up missing a couple of weeks.  I'm worried that if I don't get something up in the blogosphere today I'm just gonna slack again.  

It's not even that I didn't have good reasons for not posting.  I've had a lot (a lot, no really, A LOT) of "stuff" going on, including 1200+ miles of travelling and 95% more social time than my introversion typically allows, extra hours at work (but these ones are filled with more work than the others so I think it balances?), and going through 10 years of items around my home in prep for post-selling the house moving.

I'm exhausted just writing that.  You people just exhausted me.  That's it, guilt is much easier, I'm stopping here and taking a nap.

Enjoy this piece I wrote a few weeks ago when I actually felt like writing.  ;)


I've mentioned before my inability to sleep well for, well ever in my life number of years, and if you were good readers you'd have been paying attention and I wouldn't have to remind you what I tell you.  Honestly.

One of the ways to cope has been to use earplugs.  I didn't particularly like using them when I lived alone, which made it all vicious circle of hearing noises that kept me awake or worse, NOT hearing noises and imagining them anyway.  (By the way, the imagined noises were all giant rats and thieves trying to break in through a window.  True fact.  Sometimes being amazingly creative works against me.)

Being of overly-sensitive alertness in the wee hours of the morning meant that any time I wasn't at home in my own bed imagining vicious rodents, I was likely visiting someone whose household included a snorer.  Now I have nothing against snoring or the people that do it.  Some of my favorite people snore.  Like me.  Although I think when women partake it should be "sighing lustily" or something.  I might be crossing writing genres tonight though.

Upon first being married to Mr. Eggshells, the combination of the move, the stress of new house, new country, new marriage, new life etc. meant that for the first few years, I had bouts of insomnia.  Thank <insert deity of your choosing> that now I've grown accustomed to his presence to the point that now if he's not snoring I can't sleep.  (DOH!)  And if you think I'm kidding on thanking that deity I'm not.  I know I can imagine what crapola less than stellar items I'd be writing if I were more brain dead from lack of sleep than I am just being my normal brain dead.

Knowing this might be an issue, I had stocked up on my preferred brand of ear plugs.  ----->
These are great because they're wax and they mold to the shape of your ear without being abrasive.  I've used them for 20+ years with great results...can't even hear the thieves with them in.

One of the other things I'm sure you all recall reading in this blog is the severity of my allergies at the best of times, and the impact that moving to a foreign land has had on those.  I spent my first two years here chronically swollen from various environmental allergens that got added to the already ridiculous list of environmental and food allergens already bombarding my poor immune system.  As such, I've had significant respiratory congestion, which of course affects everything else in my body because everything's connected to the hip bone.  (Hey, don't look at me like that, I didn't write that song.)

I had noticed that after a particularly nasty bout of allergies/cold/flu that my hearing hadn't rebounded.  There was tinnitus, and balance issues (more than usual, shut up!) that were lingering so I went into the doctor's office in case I had upped the ante and gotten a case of pneumonia or bronchitis.  After explaining my concerns, he checked my chest (with a stethoscope, perverts!), my nose, and my ears.  He said "they're pink".  Not comprehending what that meant, I said, "Pink, as in inflamed?".  His reply, smirking "No, pink as in it looks like wax."

Yes, the wax ear plugs, contrary to how they behaved in Canada, changed their form and structure.  I believe that this was completely due to the air and water in the United States being of an inferior quality.  Apparently over several months, small particles of wax had accumulated and hardened in my ears, causing the symptoms I was experiencing.  

The solution was, of course, to have me put drops in my ears.  Wax softening drops.  When I went to the pharmacy I was not overly pleased to see that pretty much every box had a picture of an older gentleman with 3" hairs coming out of his ears as the poster boy.  Erm, man.  But opting for the "suck it up, buttercup" method to get me through this, I bought the kit and religiously* used them for the two weeks the doctor had required.

*Complete with incense and chanting.

The day of the appointment arrived and I hurried there, hoping to find the relief I needed from the now sore and cranky ears (they were pink now, but from all the machinations with the soaking kit).  At this point I should explain that to get the wax out now that it was apparently softer (!), was a matter of filling a syringe with water, inserting the needle into the ear canal to get it behind the wax block and gently pushing the water through to flush out the wax.  Except it didn't work the first time.

The doctor then walked me out of the exam room, to the washroom off the lobby.  We did get some odd stares.  Considering where I live, that's saying something, too.  In the washroom, he had me lean sideways over the sink and we tried it again, using gravity to help.  The wax popped out, my eardrum felt like it shattered, and I had a wave of off-balance that dropped me to my knees.  But I could hear out of it again, which was a relief.  After a few minutes of recovery, we repeated for the other ear.  Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Happy, hearing, all is right in my world, I paid my visit fee and headed out to the car to take myself home.  However I forgot that I had been nearly deaf, so when I started the motor, the radio which had been barely audible on the drive there nearly blew my entire body out of the vehicle.  

At least I know now how old age might feel like.  If I make it there.  

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