Hearing impairment or, How did that evil Babel fish get in my ear?

[kestrell]

A couple of Friday nights back, I began having a bad earache and sore throat, and Alexx offered to take me to urgent care, and I said no (because I tend toward the attitude that unless there's bleeding from the eyes, it's not a real emergency), but then it got worse, so we went off to urgent care the next day, and, after much describing of symtoms and querying of which ear--to which I would occasionally say, "The one that used to be my good ear"--they peered inside and said I had a ruptured eardrum and it was infected. (What they really said that where there should be ruptured tissue there was no tissue at all, which was something of a mystery.) They gave me some ear antibiotics and recommended I follow up with my
otolaryngologist. So on Monday Alexx and I went to the ENT and I was sitting in the examination room with the ENT's assistant asking me about the problem, and then she asked me a question which sounded like "So you're having [insert garbled word here] hearing?" and I automatically said, "What?" so the doctor came a liiiiiittle bit closer and said just a liiiiittle bit louder "You're having duplicitous hearing?"

Well, that sounded about right, but not like the sort of questions doctors ask, so I asked again, "What?" and I still got "You're having duplicitous hearing?"

And this is when I decided that someone had slipped an evil Babel fish in my ear. It's not that I don't hear *most* of what people say, it's just there is usually one or two words in there that I'm pretty certain isn't what the speaker said.

(This is actually common with sensory impairments: the brain is like a Mad Lib machine, and if there is a blank space, the brain will pop something into that space, even if it is completely out of context. Visually impaired people will see strange and bizarre hallucinations, which is called Charles Bonnet Syndrome.)

But this meant by the time the ENT did come into the room and ask questions and asked how my hearing was I could say, "Did you ever read the Douglas Adams books?" and he emphatically replied, "Every one," so then I could explain about the evil Babel fish.

So, I wanted to post my evil Babel fish theory here in case it helps another hearing-impaired person explain things.

Also, my otolaryngologist said I didn't have a ruptured eardrum, it was a middle ear infection, so my hearing in that ear should return sooner or later. I'm not even going to wonder how my missing eardrum magically reappeared--perhaps I'm part salamander...

Comments

[capri0mni]

Maybe that's how the babel fish get into your brain through the ear: they have some way to dimensionally shift the eardrum out of the way, and then shift it back again once they're inside ...

Maybe?

[kestrell]

Thereby leaving no clue as to how they managed to get on the inside of the eardrum....Fiendishly clever!

[capri0mni]

Evolution leads to some surprisingly sophisticated survival techniques... especially when it comes to symbiotic and parasitic relationships.

Consider the example of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ophiocordyceps_unilateralis (or not, if you have a squeamish disposition, especially in regards to zombies).

Fortunately, as Douglas Adams reported, babel fish pose no danger to their hosts (as long as you don't take their existence as proof of God, and subsequently get run over at a zebra crossing).

[bibliofile]

Thank ghu for literate healthcare practitioners! Evil babelfish makes lots of sense. I hope the antibiotics take care of it.

(As for the missing eardrum tissue, perhaps it was just resting?)

[cvirtue]

I have diagnosed your problem: you are a SNAIL, and thus you have an operculum in your ear(s). This accounts for the eardrum variation.

As I learned at an aquarium, there's an easy way to remember this word. This song scans to O Tannenbaum:

O-perculum, O-perculum,
The snail door's called "operculum."

(a secreted plate that serves to close the aperture of a gastropod mollusk's shell when the animal is retracted.)

[kestrell]

I am so singing that to my otolaryngologist next time I have an appt. He already seems to think I am one of his most entertaining patients.

Also, I will have that song in my head for the rest of the evening, thank you.