I have sparkly hearing aid molds. They are amazing…and ordered from the children’s catalog, much to the horror of my audiologist who eventually acquiesced and let me have a little bit of fancy! (I am obsessed with Cher and Ava Gardner – and I have decided that if they had to wear hearing aids, they would have some serious glitter…keep your judgments to yourselves..)
As fabulous as these molds are there is a completely disgusting side of wearing hearing aids day in and day out that no one ever really talks about in polite company. As we know, I have little regard for societal niceties, so get ready for a trip down the canal of disgustingness. (Oh, and if you’re the “squeamish type?” Too bad – keep reading…I have to deal with this nastiness, the least you can do is learn a thing or two!)
The unassuming, delicate and sensitive skin inside my shell shaped, perfectly formed ears plays host daily to unwelcome visitors – my hearing aid molds. For the curious, hearing aid molds feel like well-fitting and very tight ear plugs that you may wear swimming…except that you are wearing them all the time, in all kinds of weather, with minimal opportunities for relief.
My ears are constantly plugged up like a storm drain regardless of what is happening outside, but every shift of season triggers a litany of complaints and physical discomfort as my poor ears prepare for the onslaught of ailments presented by the weather.
Winter is coming.
The arrival of the extreme cold – that biting air that chaps your lips, burns your corneas, and turns your cheeks a shade of crimson – wreaks havoc on the inside of my ears. It is a misconception that the molds offer some type of protective barrier as this is most decidedly not the case. I remove my molds at the end of the day and the level of itchiness that springs forth is often too much to bear, and by mid-winter it takes every ounce of already waning self-control to not attack my ears with the ferocity of scratching typically reserved for horrendous bug bites, chicken pox, or poison ivy (technically all things you probably shouldn’t be scratching in the first place!). I can rub and massage the interior skin of my ears all I want, but the relief is so short lived that it’s almost cruel. I inevitably grab a cotton swab (Q-tip) and launch an attack which then triggers the flaking. I’ve often looked at this horrific dry skin falling out of my ears and imagined what it looks like and how I could describe this to someone that has never had the distinct pleasure of experiencing this delightful phenomenon. I have, so far, come up with this non-exhaustive list of descriptors: small snowflakes; oatmeal crumbs; protein powder; crushed aspirin; cheap off-brand sugar; talcum powder; and wood shavings from a hamster cage. It’s gross. I know it’s gross – but in all of its disgustingness, there is something inherently satisfying in attempting to illustrate it for the non-sufferers. #sorrynotsorry
There are a few remedies that I rely on in the winter months for some extended relief, however temporary. The first is a warm washcloth – not too hot, not too quick to cool – to massage the interior of my ears. It instantly soothes the angry, inflamed skin and on the freezing days, warms me up from the inside out. My ears turn a really cute and fashionable shade of pink, however short lived.
The second is the slimy, cooling, and understated powers of hydrocortisone cream. This magical poultice is applied in a thin coating to the delicate membranes of my ears, magically moisturizing the irritation and providing near instant calm and relief to my tired, tortured ears. The flip side of this is – of course – the collection of goo now residing inside my ears. It is disgusting. Want to experience the sensation for yourself? Wet some play dough, dump some slippery dish soap on the top and stuff it inside your ears – that’s what it feels like…totally disgusting. Productive, relieving and comforting – but beyond disgusting.
And now, I brace myself – for I can feel the weather turning. I have readied my trusty pile of face cloths and industrial sized tubes of hydrocortisone. My new package of Q-Tips are open and poised for action. And now we wait…to do battle, once again, with the fury of a New England winter.
(And one last word on the topic of Q-Tips being frowned upon, banned and railed against…I will continue to use them faithfully and with gusto! Why would I stop? Because of the risk of hearing loss? People, please.)
Leave a Reply