Close call

This morning was wash day. I stripped the bed and washed three loads of king-sized sheets, blankets, and quilts. And I folded a couple of loads of clothes that had been piled in the dreaded "laundry chair" in the upstairs TV room. I turned on the dishwasher and hand-washed the remaining items in the sink. I swept the floor and spread out a new rug in the kitchen.

I'd been meaning to get area rugs to cover the laminate flooring in my family room and kitchen for several weeks. I'd thrown out the old ones after deciding that they'd seen better days and the effort to try and clean them would barely make a difference. They needed replacing. And I needed something to help absorb the sound better. After living with the echoing in the room for a few weeks, I broke down yesterday and purchased two rugs on clearance at the local home improvement store.

After spending a couple of hours on household chores, I sat down to enjoy a cup of tea. I was the only one home, and the peace and quiet was nice. It was only after turning on the television that I became aware that I'd not put my hearing devices on this morning. They're a necessary burden when my hearing husband and daughter are home. But not today. There was no one to hear. And I welcomed the noiselessness like an old friend.

Sauntering upstairs, I opened my handy-dandy Zephyr dryer to retrieve my hearing aid and CI processor. I noticed the dingy ear mold on my hearing aid. I should clean that thing, I thought to myself. I'm not able to remove it from my hearing aid without a special tool that only my audiologist possesses and I've had to depend on regular visits to her to have it cleaned and shined. But this morning I decided to try to take it off and clean it myself. It was wash day after all. To my surprise, the mold came off the receiver tip rather easily with one gentle tug. Per the instructions that had come with it when it was new, I would wash it with antibacterial soap. I thought briefly to myself that I should put a washcloth over the open drain in case it slipped from my hand and fell into the drain.

Nah, I was several steps from the sink. I'd be fine, I thought.

But alas, ZIP! BANG! and the slippery booger was on its way to the sink before I could say 'Boo!" Luckily, I am blessed with superhero reflexes and I lunged for that deep, dark abyss -- flailing my soapy hand over it with seconds to spare -- the mold swirled around the sink and came to rest beside my thumb.

It was a close call.

Next time it needs cleaned, I'll just take it to my audi like I'm supposed to.