This would not be the post I intended to write a couple of weeks ago. A few days before the new year, I began to have a high-pitched ringing in my ears. I couldn’t get in to see my assigned doctor for 3 weeks, so after a couple of torturous nights, I went to urgent care. Urgent care is now America’s primary care system. Americans get a taste of both worlds: the wait of socialist medicine with capitalist pricing.
After being shepherded into a room to sit for an hour, I began to cry. The squealing is loudest in quiet places. With no sleep and no escape, despair took over. After five minutes of conversation with a PA, a look in my ears, I walked out with two prescriptions for an ear infection. After completing treatment with a steroid, my loud ringing continues 24/7 unabated and I’ve learned that I should never take steroids.
Between me and Dr. Google, PubMed, and 5,000 reddit forums, I may have this for days or forever. Tinnitus is no joke. It can drive you off the deep end. For someone like me, who values silence and chooses to spend a lot of time in it, I am a prime candidate for going completely doolally. There have been moments when the thought of never knowing silence again has terrified me.
I’m nothing if not a monster proponent of true self-care. The on-again, off-again skills of self maintenance are now my lifeline. Being outside, moving, meditating, eating relatively healthy, talking to my people, and taking things moment by moment are going to be my jam for the foreseeable future. I found an ENT to see in a few weeks. I will run the medical obstacle course to ensure I’ve done what I can (short of taking anxiety-magnifying insomnia-inducing steroids again).
I have also learned that 50-60 million people in the United States have some degree of tinnitus and that shysters are waiting for those desperate souls. There are exorbitant supplements, electrical stimulators, expensive sound training programs, and lots of drugs that people are trying. There is no known cure. At this point, I’ve gone in for Melatonin since I’ve not habituated enough to the squeal of manic crickets to sleep much. I’ve also downloaded soundscape apps to learn how to distract from or mask the sound a little better.
It has been a reminder of the frailty and changeability of our human bodies. I’ve taken to writing journal notes every day that includes a list of all the things I’m grateful for and while it makes it sound as if I’ve already gone doolally, I’m grateful for the chance to learn more empathy. Whether my condition is permanent or temporary, it’s invisible to anyone outside of my brain. We watch and judge each other as we move through our days, angering at the person who is taking too long in the checkout lane or mocking people who have support animals. We don’t know what it has taken to get them there and kindness is free.
Most of us are just getting by the best we can. Things are difficult these days – from the barrage of information to the fractured communities that lay all around us. Help each other out, not just by showing up for the trauma, but by treating everyday interactions as an opportunity to be more capably kind. We can be more than our worst stories, our worst selves, our stupid politics, and our distractible, temporary thoughts. I can be more than the high-pitched shrieking in my brain would ostensibly allow. Within our frailties, we can often find our greatest strengths. Somebody has that embroidered on a pillow somewhere. On which, amidst the soundscape in my brain, I will lay my head to rest.
Some things that have given me comfort of late:
- Lavender Wrap – This was an expensive luxury, but has lasted for years. Lately, I heat it up in the microwave each night and wrap it around my shoulders up to my ears to relieve the tension headache from having noise 24/7.
- Vick’s Vapor Rub – Reminds me of my childhood and keeps me breathing easy at night.
- Melatonin – This has been a lifesaver. I finally landed on a brand and time release formula that has allowed me to sleep through the cacophony of crickets.
- MyNoise sound app – Free, ad-free app for both iOS and Android. Full of adjustable nature sounds that help distract from the piercing noise. I use the sound of water while reading and writing and have been sleeping to the sound of wind. Soothing sounds can retrain the brain to put the squeal in the background.
- I’m currently reading Aimee Nezhukumatathil’s World of Wonders. Short essays built around the natural wonders of our world.
What gives you comfort in times of stress?
The Green Study 
Tea, hot water bottle and an easy read are my go tos. Hope you’re feeling better
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Tea is a good one. Focus is a challenge right now, so short essays are doing the trick. Psychologically I’m doing better. The sound is always there now. Preparing myself for permanence. It’s the hope that can really cause me despair.
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Thinking of you
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I am so, so sorry. I know many people who suffer with it and I feel for you. It is every bit as difficult as you say, and I am glad you have found a few things that are helping you, in some way, to get through it. I wish I could suggest something, but alas, I don’t know of anything you can get either OTC or by prescription. Meditation helps me, as do breathing exercises and writing — either writing about how I’m feeling, as if I was talking to someone and pouring my heart out to them or working on my book, which transports me to another realm. If all else fails Haagen Dazs coffee ice cream and Whippet biscuits (which take me back to my childhood, I stumbled upon them serendipitously, had no idea they still existed) do wonders for my mood. Not for my hips, but nothing is perfect. I hope this nightmare is over soon Michelle 💓.
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I’ve done more longhand writing in the last couple of weeks than in the last year. It settles my brain a little to write that way. It is also surprising how we can habituate ourselves to things. I’m feeling mentally better, even as the sound continues. I am, in so many ways, lucky. I have the time, energy, and resources to slow down and take care of myself. I think about all the people who work full-time, caring for parents and children. This happened to me when the people around me are doing okay and don’t need me on a daily basis.
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So sorry for this sudden onslaught, Michelle. I’ve suffered from middling bad tinnitus for 30 years. It came on when we lived in Africa, possibly due to taking long-term anti-malarials and/or a tooth extraction. There are odd times when it stops, and I have found YouTube exercises useful especially Dr. Mandell. Also if you can find a shiatsu practitioner, or someone who can do some gentle work around neck and head, it might bring some relief.
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My mother has similarly suffered for 30 years due to noise-induced tinnitus (she worked in a factory for years). It has really given me a new perspective for which I’m surprisingly grateful. I’ll look at the YouTube videos from Dr. Mandell. The few exercises from other videos I tried included some thumping on the back of the head which gave me a massive headache! Thanks for sharing your experience and I’m sorry that this has been a challenge for you.
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😩 I’m so sorry to read of your newest challenge. Here’s praying it is somehow not permanent for you.🌷
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Thanks. I’m not sure if it will be or not, but I’m operating under the premise that it might be, so that I learn coping strategies now.
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Michelle! I’m sorry for this, I know how challengeing tinnitus can be. As usual you have taken your practical, studious, mindful, and articulate approach to yet another problem, and laid findings and solutions out for your readers. You help all of us as you help yourself! Wishing you equanimity with your tinnitus, however it all settles out. Peace–Cathy
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Thanks, Cathy. I’m finding my way through this, only writing about it after I exhausted myself with every anxious scenario. Once I figured how to get sleep again, and to do the things I love like writing and reading, I could see a better way forward, no matter the outcome.
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Yes, tinnitus is common, and yes, “a reminder of the frailty and changeability of our human bodies.” My right-ear tinnitus and moderate hearing loss occurred at about the same time several years ago. (They often become noticeable together.) My hearing aid is a bit of a distraction and help, but mostly I’ve gotten used to it. I no longer consider it a big deal, which was helpful when tinnitus developed (sans hearing loss) in my left ear, too. In many cases, it’s just one way a body shows its age and particular vulnerabilities. We adjust to new norms.
I always watch TV with captions, now, make sure I tune especially into my left ear to intentionally hear delights such as bird song and crickets, and just keep on. Perhaps my greatest comfort is the company of also-declining older pets, family and friends, which continually reminds me that, as an embodied creature, I am part of the universal cycle of arising, displaying and falling away. If falling away occurs a little sooner and in ways I did not anticipate; what of it? 🙂
You’ll adapt and be fine, I’m sure; you’re taking great steps in not obsessing over it, but re-directing attention to external world experiences.
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“We adjust to new norms.” – this has amazed me a bit. The first few nights were absolute torture, but nearly two weeks later and I feel okay. The sound hasn’t changed one iota, but learning to ignore or to not feel anxious about it has made a huge difference. Also, this falling away is something we never seem to anticipate. It seems so foolish, since it is inevitable. But humans, right? Thanks for sharing what you’ve experienced.
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Hi, Michelle, I’m so sorry to hear what you’ve been going through. It sounds hellish. I debated whether or not to share my experience, because nobody likes the “here’s-what-happened-to-me” response to their own pain. But just in case it helps: Back in 2017, I developed severe jaw pain, accompanied by near constant tinnitus (churning, whirring, squealing, popping), and sharp and persistent pain in my neck and left ear. I saw several docs before I got in to see the ENT, and they were baffled. It was the ENT who diagnosed a mass (a cholesteatoma) in my middle ear. He performed what is called “inside-out mastoidectomy” surgery, which brought amazing relief. I still have occasional, mild tinnitus, but it’s a cake-walk compared to what had been happening. I don’t know why it always takes so long to get in to see an ENT, but I hope he or she will find the solution and give you some relief.
Your attitude and approach to life is always inspirational.
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I’m so glad, Donna, that you were able to find a solution and some relief. There are so many possibilities at this point that it’s easy for me to get sidetracked doing “research” when what I need to get through this is focused self-care. I had to find an ENT outside my healthcare network, because within it, I couldn’t see anyone until March. I’ve been fortunate that I’ve not, up to this point, had to go to the doctor much – this process has been eye-opening. Again, more learned empathy for people who have chronic conditions and needs. Our medical system has been decimated by the pandemic and by the for-profit model.
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Wow..that is simply awful. I can almost always hear my heartbeat in my ears at night when I first go to bed, but much later in the night, it goes away. I think it’s there during g the day, but with noise and distractions I do t really notice it. I know this is different than what you are experiencing. But you have my deepest sympathy. It would be hell. Hopefully some Dr. can at least give you some relief.
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From what I read, many people experience tinnitus, including what you describe which is called pulsatile tinnitus. I have on and off in my life, but this loud, constant high-pitched sound terrified me initially. The one thing I’ve learned is that sound (even internal sound) can trigger a fight-or-flight response in the body that exacerbates anxiety about it. Meditating has helped a lot with calming my response to it, so I’m able to settle down and even sleep.
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I’m sorry this continues to plague you. But you wrote beautifully about the condition. It was music–of a sort–to my ears.
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