A few weeks ago, I woke up unable to hear from my left ear. It felt muffled, like the world had lost its volume. I shrugged it off at first but then the inability didn’t fade—it only grew worse.
I went to my GP, who didn’t even check thoroughly. Instead, they diagnosed me with an ear infection and prescribed antibiotics. Days passed, then weeks. When the first batch didn’t work, I was given stronger ones. Still no relief. This endless loop—antibiotics, wait, no improvement—lasted almost two torturous months.
By then, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. My professional life, conversations, even music were slipping away. I finally saw an ENT specialist. In less than five minutes, they peered into my ear and said, “You don’t have an infection—your eardrum is coated in hard wax.” A quick cleaning later, and my hearing was restored.
Anger flooded me. Two months wasted with unnecessary antibiotics, my life on hold. Had anyone taken a proper look before? It wasn’t an infection—it was earwax. The simplest oversight cost me my peace of mind and precious time.
