No, not the 60s song of Buffalo Springfield. Rather, the tinnitus in my ears which has increased in intensity in the past couple of years. Initially, my hearing aids abated the noise. Recurrent ear infections triggered a recurrence. I am waiting for an audiology appointment to reset my hearing aids and, hopefully, provide some relief.
As I try to fall into sleep at night, I ignore the tinnitus (accent on the first syllable, by the way), but other noises disrupt my slumber. Or attempt at slumber.
Above me irregular thuds from Mowgli’s room startle me. Boys leaping from the loft, no doubt. Luna adds her staccato barks for attention, the “I want to play” barks. Then, the rhythmic punches of bass coming from Alexa above us. Felt through the floor more than heard via ears.
On weekends I tolerate the interruptions. Mowgli and his friends, all stinky but loveable boys, need the time to unwind. When we gave the room above ours to Mowgli who fell exhausted into bed, we weren’t thinking ahead to teen boys. I need to include this in my book warning people to plan ahead for house sharing.
During the week, though, my instincts say that Mowgli (and we) needs sleep. I could awaken ED who can turn off the music via her phone but hesitate, knowing the pressure she is under. At midnight, she, too, needs sleep.
Today she walks me through setting up my phone so that, at night, I can turn off the bass shaking my ceiling. Maybe we will all get more sleep.
The sounds of silence.
Hello darkness, my old friend.