White Noise

White Noise

OK. When I was young, I was stupid. I’m not saying I’m smart now, but I am at least somewhat wiser.

When I was 13, I was a budding rocket scientist until, one cold February day, one of my rockets exploded in my grandfather’s garage and nearly killed me. A piece of exploding metal just missed my head and sliced a hole in the garage wall. Another piece of shrapnel almost sliced off my thumb. And the explosion broke my eardrums.

Luckily, my thumb was not sliced off and the doctors we able to repair the gaping hole between my index finger and my thumb on my right hand. Let me say, I’m right-handed, so during the next few weeks, I learned to write and eat with my left hand. For a while, I became ambidextrous. Also, nearly deaf.

My ears were ringing for quite some time after the explosion, but after a few months, my hearing returned to normal (I think).

Then I learned to play guitar and started a rock band, and the rest, I wish I could say, was history. But it wasn’t. We were going to be the next Beatles. And we did well locally. I was making enough money to be fooled into thinking that making money and having fun were always going to go together like peanut butter and jelly. Looking back on it now, I realize what a foolish boy I was. I never learned the value of money until I had to work for it instead of playing for it.

Anyway, back in those days, there were no fancy earbuds or sound technicians, and we played loud and proud. I could not hear myself sing, so I had to hope I was singing in key. But wow, it was loud up there on the stage with those huge amplifiers behind us and a dancing crowd before us.

After I played in the band on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, I would go back to school on Monday. My ears were ringing so badly that I could barely hear the teacher. For some mysterious reason (youthful ignorance?) I thought all of this was normal.

And then I grew up.

Got a job.

Got Married.

Had kids.

The days of playing loud rock music were in the past; unfortunately, the ringing in my ears was not. I learned the term tinnitus. And if you have tinnitus, then you know there are a thousand cures for it, but none of them work. I eagerly earned my tinnitus, and it wasn’t going away.

So, you learn to live with it. Basically, by ignoring it and covering it up with other sounds. So, I ended up falling asleep with the TV or radio on. Anything to mask the persistent, ever-present ringing in my ears. I wish I could let you hear it so you could understand. During the day, when the world is awake and abuzz with activity, the ringing falls into the background of my world and my life. It is the quiet times that just about drive me crazy.

Decades passed, and I did whatever I had to, to live with this constant buzzing in my ears. Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. Can you hear it?

Recently, tinnitus has become cool. Everyone is talking about tinnitus. Even Captain Kirk has it. And so there are lots of things out there to help with tinnitus. Like pink noise, brown noise, and white noise.

I have not kept up with the times when it comes to white noise and its cousins. I have a little Google Mini smart speaker on the nightstand by the bed. I can ask it for the weather and the time, or just about anything I want to know, and it answers me. It’s nice. Probably not very private, but at my age, what do I care?

Anyway, to mask my tinnitis, I got used to falling asleep with the TV on. I would turn on a show or a movie I’ve seen 9,000 times, so I wouldn’t get caught up in it and stay awake. But the TV emits a lot of light, so my bedroom was never really dark.

Then I discovered white noise was available on my Google Mini smart speaker.

“Hey Google! Give me some white noise!” and immediately, the Google Mini provides me with white noise that sounds like a constant summer rain shower. You can lie there imagining the rain falling on the roof and the whole world outside.

And then, later, I discovered an app for my Roku player that lets me choose the sound of ocean waves, or a gentle stream, or a waterfall, or thunderstorms, or gentle summer showers, or even Native American flute music, all with the option of turning the TV screen black. No annoying light.

So now I have a waterfall or a gentle stream paired with a rain shower, combining to mask my tinnitis and help me fall asleep.

It works, what can I say?

I can never go back to my youth and right the stupidity that got me here. But I’m certainly thankful for white noise.

I hope you don’t suffer from tinnitis like me, but if your ears are buzzing, give white noise a try. You might find what you’ve been looking for.

Can you hear me?