|Like this, but inside my ears!
Some mornings, before I am distracted by the birds chirping outside or the hum of the refrigerator or the sloshing of the washing machine, the ringing is accompanied by what I can only describe as the sound of a hummingbird’s wing, fluttering at a rate too fast to see, but not too fast to hear on my very own in-house sound track.
I’m trying to learn ways to listen beyond the ringing. I try to drown it out with white noise—a fan whooshing back and forth at night, music during the day—which has been only moderately successful. It’s a cat and mouse game I play with myself. What am I hearing? That sound, or something else? If I try, I can always hear it. This is a test. Traffic sounds, an airplane, and yes, that ringing too. Nuts!
Reading the research on this annoying noise is annoying in itself. It might be age-related—another wonderful part of getting older. I’m in the right demographic for this as I continue my trudge over the hill. There doesn’t seem to be a cure. I’ve read about tinnitus online, and the gist of it goes something like this: Sometimes it gets better, and sometimes it gets worse. You can buy a special pillow or earphones or do some biofeedback or sing to yourself or rip your ears off. You can also order now to learn the secrets of curing tinnitus and try one of the dozens of products available online with special offers good for a limited time only which are generally guaranteed or your money back.
|On my wish list! Hate to steal from a baby…
My little granddaughter has always gone to sleep to the sound of gentle waves lapping against the shore of some prerecorded ocean. She has a “Sleep Sheep” that has lulled her to sleep from crib to big-girl bed, and this fuzzy little white-noise machine travels with her when she comes to visit us. If she wanted to change it up, she could drift off to dreamland listening to sounds of nature, or the gentle lub-dub of a “mother’s heartbeat,” or a light rain. Her bedtime ritual involves hearing stories, getting a goodnight kiss or two, and pushing the button that cues the ocean. The swoosh of the waves carries her straight to the Land of Nod. (My baby grandson has one too.Lucky!)
I need one of these things. Maybe when my granddaughter outgrows hers, I can have it. It would make me think I was in Hawaii, where the crashing waves trump the siren song I hear in my quiet house.
Previously published in You and Me magazine.