The week that was #7

Sorry, am running a bit behind on the writing – I haven’t been busy; on the contrary, I’ve had plenty of time on my hands – because I’ve just been exhausted the whole weekend and didn’t have the requisite creative energy that I need.

But better late than never. This will be a short one, though, because I’ve mostly been thinking about Arsenic & Old Lace. But there’s so much to write about that it’s going to end up being a standalone post rather than just a segment. So there’s not all that much else to say – apart from my temporary hearing problems.

Blocked Ears

On Thursday one of my ears became blocked. If you’ve ever had this happen you’ll understand; if you haven’t it’s pretty much as it sounds – like you’ve got something stuck in your ear. It’s annoying because you a) can’t hear properly, b) have certain sounds – i.e. those picked up by the eardrum through internal vibrations through your head - amplified (shaving, for example, sounds really weird), and c) feel the pressure of it.

It was a bigger problem for me at the time because I had a show to do – though I didn’t realise it was going to cause me problems at the time. It wasn’t until I actually got on stage and started talking that I realised that it had a huge impact on my ability to monitor my voice. Some roles it wouldn’t matter as much, but for the character I was playing in this show it was a big issue – it wasn’t only the volume that was important, but the accent and the tone. Only hearing it out of one ear wasn’t enough for me to be able to confidently judge whether I was sounding like I needed to sound.

Anyway, I bought some ear drops to try and clear the blockage; it works pretty much as you’d imagine, you drip it in there and lie there on your side while it does its thing – which is, to put it mildly, a rather fascinating experience. You can literally feel it inching its way along. As I lay there I couldn’t help but think of the scene from Star Trek 2: The Wrath of Khan¹ where that guy gets the worms put into his ear.

Creepy/interesting imagery aside, it didn’t actually work – not completely, anyway. I was still blocked, albeit slightly less so. I had to go on stage again one ear down.

Friday night after the show I gave it another try, and lay there for what was probably an hour or so, prone, as the gunk crawled around my ear canal. I then proceeded to sleep very poorly indeed, and woke up with my right ear still as blocked as it had started out the night before.

And my left ear, in what I can only assume was a gesture of solidarity, had chosen to support its partner and down tools² - I was blocked on both sides.

Obviously, if I was going to have any chance of putting in a good performance for the final night of the show I’d have to resort to drastic measures – dragging myself off to a medical centre to have my ears syringed out. Literally, that’s what happens – doctor-type fills a huge syringe (medical instruments always look bigger when parts of them are being crammed into parts of you; I’ve never had a catheter and I’d like to keep it that way) with water and squirts it into your ear to force the wax out.

Turns out it helps a great deal to have been using wax-softening drops prior to having this done – in fact, sometimes they won’t do it straight away; instead they’ll send you off to soften them up for a few days first. Lucky me.

I didn’t have to go far; there’s a walk-in centre on The Parade, Norwood – about five minutes drive from my house. I took not just one book but two, (I was halfway through the first one) because I fully expected the centre to be overflowing with distressed parents herding their greenstick-fractured and cricket-ball-concussed children through to be patched up. Imagine my surprise to find the place empty, and to be ushered straight into the doctor’s room as soon as I’d filled out my form and signed my credit card receipt – though I have to admit the administrative process took slightly longer than usual because I had to make the receptionist repeat everything she said, and louder, so I could hear.

About ten minutes and about five litres of water later (far too cold, in my opinion; I’m sure the last time I had it done the doctor used warm, rather than straight from the cold tap) I walked out, sans about a pound or so of gross earwax – and with new and improved hearing. It’s amazing how much more you can hear after a good syringing.

Still, I don’t recommend it just for the experience. I also asked the doctor if there was any particular reason why it built up so much and he said they don’t actually know; it just builds up for some people. I did some research³ and found that – hilariously – one of the things that affects the movement of wax out of the ear is talking. Yeah, because that’s something I don’t do enough of. Good grief. I’m amazed I have any wax at all if that’s the case...

¹Wrath, by the way, rhymes with ‘moth’ not ‘math’. Just so you know.
²If an ear can be said to use tools. It can here because it’s my blog; attempt it elsewhere at your own risk.
³By which I mean Wikipedia. Hey, this isn’t an assignment!