Today is odd. I’m feeling a weird sense of melancholy and self awareness. I woke up this morning with a hell of a lot of hearing loss.
I’ve noticed it gradually and blame it on the earplugs I wear when I take my bi-weekly dip in the neighbourhood pool. Several weeks ago I felt as if that strange little creature known as ear wax had burrowed a little deeper than it should have. I could still hear, but the new amplifier we bought somehow burst more sound to the left speaker than the right. I knew this wasn’t the reality, just my slimy friend taking up residence in my ear, taking in the music more than me. I decided to grab a cotton bud and evict the intruder. Not a good idea.
Yesterday I visited a doctor who wanted me to use drops before she attempted to flush the little bugger out. This morning I feel disorientated. I couldn’t hear the indicator in our car and only noticed I passed a busy cafe due to the sound of clinking glasses someone had dropped.
For a moment I thought my hearing had come back as I did laps in the pool this morning. It’s true – water amplifies sound. This momentary relief as I heard the splashing of my arms guiding me through the water gave me false hope. The instructor taking aqua aerobics gave me a reality check when I realised that I couldn’t hear the music he was making those poor sods in the pool jump around to.
So I’m in the here and now, totally with myself. I’m sort of distant in my mood. My own voice is amplified, and when I walk I’m more aware of the sensation of my skeleton hitting my joggers, than the sound of my shoes on the concrete. Even the shower against my skull after my swim had a strange kind of continuous hum to it, rather than a streaming splash.
Ironically I’m about to program the music for our community radio show shortly. Half an ear to the job. I’m looking forward to tomorrow when we finally eradicate the waxy guest who is keeping me at arm’s length from the world.