Over the course of my career as a musician I have played in various locations of varying size and quality. The thing that is common to most of them is that they are ball-achingly loud, and as a result I have recently noticed that my ears literally won’t stop ringing. You know the sound a tv makes when it’s on mute? Imagine that, only louder and ALL THE LIVE-LONG DAY.
Slightly concerned, I booked an appointment for a free hearing test at Specsavers (most places only do free hearing tests if you are over 100,000 years old, so this was useful to know).
So, early on Monday morning I find myself fidgeting in the waiting area, thumbing idly through a copy of something glossy and vacuous. All this time I am imagining that the ear-test man will take one look in my lugholes and tell me I have cancer of the eardrum, hand me a loaded shotgun and tell me to get-it-over-with-and-while-you’re-at-it-show-a-bit-of-consideration-and-aim-your-spattered-brains-toward-the-bin.
Presently the balding but professional Martin (I have not used his real name because I have no interest in trying to recollect it) came out to usher me into his room, and I was instantly soothed by his gentle authority. I sat down and explained that I was a musician (these pretentious words always stick in my throat; I may as well introduce myself as an actor, or a politician, or simply cut out the middle man and tell him that I am a professional ego), and explained that I would like and ear test and possibly a fitting for some punishingly expensive moulded earplugs.
Martin rose from his chair and twittered something along the lines of “Right then, let’s have a little look, shall we?”. At this point he bade me look at the opposing wall while he moved to my side and stuck his penis in my ear. At least, at the time I thought it may have been his penis, but my wife reliably informs me that they don’t do that any more, and that it was probably an otoscope.
“Right, well, there’s nothing we can do today”, said Martin in a slightly haughtier tone, “Your ears are completely full of wax. Get them sorted at your GP and then come back.”
Wax.
How very dare you, Martin, I thought. I had half a mind to reach into my ear and fling a sizeable handful of the stuff at his gleaming pate. “The wax may even be the cause of the ringing”, he proffered. These crumbs of comfort soothed my wrath, and I immediately felt galvanised into arranging an appointment to have my secret shame removed.
I met the nurse at my local clinic two days later; she was chirpy and talkative, and I persuaded myself that she found me charming in the way that older ugly women often seem to. As I sat down on a strategically placed chair she explained the procedure, as well as common side effects such as a tickling sensation and spasmodic coughing fits (caused by a nerve, apparently). She then proceeded to place a metal cup on my shoulder and stick a small appendage (an appendage which I now confidently dismissed as a non-penis), into my ear.
The ear syringing experience itself is quite fantastic – rather like having your brain tickled. The pulsing warm water was soothing and refreshing and I did not, as I had previously feared, soil myself involuntarily. It was over in a matter of minutes; she did not offer to show me the contents of the metal cup, and before I could ask for a waxy keepsake I was outside the consulting room, surrounded once more by shuffling pensioners.
The upshot of it all is that afterwards my tinnitus had not, alas, disappeared; so it looks like it’s back to Specsavers at some point. Hopefully Martin will welcome my newly water-frotted eardrums without hesitation, then promptly sting me for £150 for a pair of earplugs.
Even now, above the unrelenting high-pitched whine, I can just make out the distant sound of a bolting horse, followed by the dull thud of the stable door.
Your recounting of the ear syringing is perfect as I’ve been through that recently as you know. I wanted to see in the metal cup too as I deemed it a more interesting and less frequent version of the classic nose blow routine. Disappointed though you seem not to have to have gone through the “I have to put olive oil in my ears?!?” routine.
Oh, I did the olive oil too my friend.
Although I missed the opportunity for this potential conversation:
“You should put olive oil in your ears, sir”
“Extra virgin?”
“Yes, if you think she’ll fit.”
I had a similar wax-related experience a couple of years ago. Where I live they seem to have nurses installed in the pharmacy, so I went in with my beloved (who had noticed the deafness was no longer selective and that my ears were a mellow yellow on the inside as well as sticky) and requested that they do something about it. The nurse had a look inside and was quite surprised since it is not so often in these small shopping centres that someone with as much wax as me turns up. To cut a short but potentially potentially drivelous story to an acceptable length, she made it something of a personal quest to get all of the big lumps out and put the biggest one in a cup for me to show my Mum.
I was told to not use cotton buds as my cack-handedness would, in all likelihood, push the wax further in. I suspect I should go back soon, because it’s starting to get a bit mucky in there; it can only get worse as the ears become more hirsute.
Yeah, ear wax.. me dad seems to have this perennial ear problem and as i am now resigned to turning every inch into him, i can look forward to evenings in on my side with a-not-unpenis-size candle wedged into one of my ears, trying to decipher top gear from a 90 degree angle knowing that the merest quiver could render my mop so very Jackson-pepsi, if you get me.
Awesome blog, ed!
I am a frequent reader of your articles and just wanted to inform you that I really like your blog.
I have suffered from ringing ears for a long time and it drives me mad, I’ve been recently hunting around the net for remedies all day long and your web log is extremely good, I ran across a different site which inturn would certainly seem to go along with what you’re expressing right here it is named Tinnitus Relax