Ear Whooshing Update: Still Whooshing

After going to the doctor yesterday to check on the whooshing, I went to the grocery store. Where I promptly met a chocolate lab driving a BMW. I took this photo on the sly with my camera phone, so it's not very clear. But he was sitting there in the driver's seat just staring at me. And I think this may have been the funniest thing I've ever seen. Or maybe I was just slap happy because yesterday I learned the dreaded news:

I WILL HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE WHOOSHING FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE!

Ahem. I'm fine, really. Really.

In fact, I'm "unremarkable." As in:

un·re·mark·a·ble (ŭn'rĭ-mär'kə-bəl) adj. Lacking distinction; ordinary.

Now, I think I can honestly say that's the first time I've ever been called ordinary instead of, oh, say, bizarre, freaky, weird, unusual, psycho, alien-like. But let me explain. I was reading the results of last summer's CT angiogram that the doctor gave me to take to another doctor. Gawd I hate doctors. (Sorry if any of you are doctors, but I hate you.)

I went to see the ENT with no hope. I talked to Ma and Pa on the phone earlier in the day and, of course, Ma held out hope. She told me maybe they would find a cure or something causing it. I shot her down. She maintained her course. So I went and Dr. ENT shoved a tube with a camera on it in my ears and up my nose (I could actually see a red light even though I had my eyes squished shut because the light was practically touching my eyeball by this point). Then I went for the hearing test where they shove these little chicklets in your ear and make them expand and contract. Then I went in the Booth of Death and pushed my Jeopardy button every time I heard a sound (in between the whooshing).

Nothing. Nada. Nyet.

So Dr. ENT comes into a little room and answers my questions that I have written down in my dayplanner:

1. Is pulsatile tinnitus the same thing as venous hum or are they different? [Answer: Same.]

2. Could this be a problem with my heart? (I've been reading online and have found scary things.) Do I need to be worried about a heart attack? Did that CT angiogram last summer look for these types of problems? [Answer: The CT angiogram would have shown any of those problems. You do not have a heart problem. You do not have clogged/failing arteries.]

3. Can you hear it if you put your stethoscope to my neck? [Answer: No.] But of course, we have to take into account that when I push on my neck, the sound stops. I was going to make him put the stethoscope to my actual ear for a listen, but I thought better of it because by this time I was almost crying.

So he says to me, "I'm going to send you to my colleague, Dr. I Only Do Ears. He probably won't be able to help you, but we can try. He specializes in ear disease and works at Rush. Here is his name. (No card, no phone number. Joy.) But I must say, Blondie, it is often better that we don't find something."

I know this is true. I'd rather it just be whooshing than a giant brain tumor, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed. It's so annoying to have the sound of a baby's sonogram in my ear all day long. Sigh. I'm having a pity party. I get one. I'm unremarkable. I found this out while reading the results of the CT angiogram:

"Blah blah blah...tech talk... bone windows demonstrate unremarkable mastoid air cells... Visualized portions of the orbits unremarkable... unremarkable...unremarkable... Unremarkable CTA."

So I come home hopeless and, in true fashion, Ma tries to cheer me up and make me see the brighter side of things. Ma suffers from migraines. She gets them every couple of weeks like clockwork. I get migraines once in a blue moon and they SUCK. So I do feel sorry for her, and I know how horrifying they can be. But not everyone understands. People who have never had a migraine don't really get it. The whole head pain, vision problems, nausea, etc. They think it's just a headache. They're wrong. So Ma's trying to make me feel better and she says, "Whenever I feel sorry for myself about my migraines, I try to think of other people who have bigger problems to make myself feel better. When I feel bad about my migraines, I think of you."

"Thanks, Ma," I said, while Dad roared with laughter in the background. And I also warned her, "This is totally going on my blog."

Whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh whoosh.

Note: Click here for all ear whooshing posts.