Are You Right-Eared or Left-Eared?

Dean Shareski / CC BY-SA 2.0

What happened to in-flight entertainment? On my recent flights, there were no movies, no headphones for music, and no magazines. I long for the day when flight attendants would cruise the cabin, handing out a variety of magazines. Now, we have to buy our own magazines (at airport prices) and books, bring our own food/snacks, and supply our own entertainment.

The guy across the row from me was happily watching a video and wearing those noise-canceling headphones, periodically chuckling. As soon as the movie was over, he had one of those new electronic books, and started to read a novel. This man was prepared. I bought a TIME magazine at the news stand, but read it all waiting for my flight to leave. This is equivalent to eating all of your popcorn before the movie starts. I started leafing through those in-flight magazines (Spirit) and found an interesting article that I would like to share.

Did you know that 72% of people prefer to listen with their right ear? It is not really due to the fact that you are right-handed either. The left side of the brain specializes in language processing and is neurologically wired to the right ear. Consequently, the right side of the brain that deals with emotional cues is wired to the left ear. Two Italian researchers found that requests spoken into the right ear generates more positive responses than those uttered into left ears.

I find this very interesting, since I am one of those right-eared people. If I hear something subtle outside, I will turn my right ear to the noise. I tend to keep my wife on the right side when she is talking, too. She sits to the right of me when I am driving, and on the right when we are at the movies. When she nags me, she is usually on my right, but now that I have this information, I may turn my left ear in her direction. Of course, I do have tinnitus which is primarily in my left ear, so I suspect my right ear has more acute hearing.

We don’t have any young children in the house anymore, just dogs and puppies. We do have grandchildren, however, so I am going to try and voice those requests to pick up their stuff, or take a shower, etc. in their right ears, hoping of course, for those positive responses. I am going out on a limb here because I don’t think teenagers really respond to either ear, but I am going to try it on our 16-year-old granddaughter.

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• Ear, Nose & Throat Message Board with Rod Moser, PA, PhD
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Acoustic Insults

It has been a long time since I experienced "airplane ear", but this weekend reminded me that all of us are subject to sudden acoustic insults. I spent the last few days at a conference for the California Academy of Physician Assistants in Palm Springs, where I was invited as a speaker. I am proud to say that I started this organization 33 years ago in my living room; funded by $500 of my own money. The organization now has thousands of members and a $1 million budget. This literally blows my mind.

Once you have been in this profession over 25 years, you earn the title of a "Dino", short for dinosaur, of course. I have been a Dino for many years now, so a Co-Dino and I were asked to speak to a group of students. Both of us were PAs before they were born, so it really made us feel very old. Every year, we see fewer Dinos and more of the younger clinicians. This is excellent since the youth of an organization and profession are the leaders of tomorrow. Long after I am gone, this organization will continue to flourish with this new transfusion of fresh blood.

One of the entertainment venues at the conference was a PA Idol competition and dance. When I saw those refrigerator-sized speakers being put up, I made sure that I found a place far away. When the music started, the volume was unbelievable. I put tissue in my ear, but no sooner that I did this act of protection, people started to talk to me. All that I saw was mouths moving. I would usually give an affirmative nod. If they seemed pleased, the nod was appropriate. If they looked shocked, I would shake my head "No". When you think about it, I had a fifty percent chance of responding correctly, even though I had no idea what they were saying.

The bass notes made my head roar and body shake. I had to get out there. Walking outside, I was finally able to achieve some silence. As I expected, this brief acoustic insult exacerbated my tinnitus. My ringing had doubled in volume. I also had a little vertigo. Needless to say, I did not stay and watch the completion. This increased tinnitus continues, but if I stay busy, it does not interfere with my daily life.

On the flight home, I experienced barotitis - ear pain associated with atmospheric pressure change; also called "airplane ears". Periodically, my ears would clog from leaving home (2500 feet) to working in the valley (300 feet), but they would usually equalize after an hour.

This was not a typical flight: faster take-off and rise to cruising altitude, and a faster landing. I suspect all of this was done to make-up time. Our flight was delayed about 25 minutes for some reason. About fifteen minutes into the flight, my left ear felt like it was going to explode. All of my self-equalization techniques failed. My left ear was nearly deaf at this point, with my tinnitus interfering with any remaining hearing. Fortunately, this was only a one hour flight so my ear pain improved, along with my hearing as soon as we descended to a few thousand feet. When I arrived home, I used an electronic device called an EarPopper to further help equalize the middle ear pressure. It seemed to really help.

The last time that I had a barometric-related incident was about twelve years ago while landing in Detroit. For some unknown reason, the plane suddenly descended (I would sure like to know why). The drop was so rapid, I thought we were crashing. I was sitting in the worst seat of the plane - two seats in the back, under the engine, near the stinky bathroom, and with no window. I was sitting with an elderly woman, perhaps in her eighties. She must have noticed the blood draining from my face and obvious fear. I was clutching my painful ear (other people were doing this, too) with one hand, and the other sweaty hand was clutching the arm of the seat. She started to gently stroke my arm.

"Don't worry, Honey. You will be fine."

Of course, we landed safely, but it took four days to be able to hear normally again; my left ear ruptured from this incident.

After my experience this weekend, my left ear is acting up again with loud tinnitus and diminished hearing. That brief acoustic insult from the loud music, coupled by this barometric incident has taken a toll on my aging ears. Hopefully, things will quiet down in a few more days.

Acoustic incidents can happen so fast; so unexpected, that we often have little opportunity to extricate ourselves. I quickly left the blaring music, but I had no way of escape from the plane. The human body has a remarkable ability to recover from these events, so I will be happy when my pre-existing tinnitus goes back to its normal, constant whine and squeal.

Related Topics:

• Ear, Nose & Throat Message Board with Rod Moser, PA, PhD
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Up in the Air - Again

Yuichi Kosio
/ CC BY 2.0

I am not a huge fan of flying, but you do have to tolerate this advanced form of transportation if you really need to get somewhere easily. Ever since 9/11, I have been a bit more anxious about flying. It is not that I expect a terrorist attack (although we all think about that now), it is just the whole experience of flying has lost its appeal to me. I don't like lines. I don't like hassles. I don't particularly like crowds. I would much prefer to get in my car and head out to my destination, which in many cases, is not practical or economical.

A few days ago, I fly to Southern California to attend an annual professional conference. As in years past, I am one of the speakers. I really have little difficulty with this type of crowd. I can stand in front of a microphone in an auditorium with a thousand people and feel comfortable. I meticulously write out my talk, practice it (a little bit), and then never look at my notes during the entire lecture. It takes me a few minutes to get going, but then they have to bring one of those big hooks and pull me off of the stage. I am never short on stories.

I flew down a day earlier to visit my old college buddy. He recently had brachytherapy for his prostate cancer and jokes about being radioactive now. He looked great; sort of had that "glow about him". Robert and I, along with his college roommate, sang in a three-man quartet (we couldn't ever find that 4th singer). To this day, we still know those tunes, and he can still play that piano and harmonize. I think we sound pretty-good, but then again, we had an audience of one. When old friends get together it become a laugh-fest. We begin to re-tell stories and try to re-live some of those happier times in our lives. The early 1970's was a turbulent time in the world, but tucked away in a small rural college in West Virginia, we were spared much of the Vietnam war protests, racial unrest, free love, hippies, and drugs. There was a little bit on campus, but most of the time, our lives revolved around classes, complaining about cafeteria food, and just shooting the breeze.

During school holidays, we would hitch-hike somewhere; another lost mode of transportation. We didn't seem to think very much about getting picked up be axe-murderers and crazed hillbillies. We just wanted a cheap and relatively-fast way to get from point A to point B. Our longest trip was from West Virginia to New York City. All of us, in teams of two, made it in one day. We would proudly share our ride experiences; both good and bad. Maybe we were oblivious to the risks of this practice, but teenagers tend to ignore risks.

The last time that I hitch-hiked was about twenty years ago. My wife and I had a long weekend without the kids so we decided to take a three day trip down the Eel River in Northern California on a canoe; camping out along the river. It was a nice float; a bit too many portages - a problem if you pack heavy and your canoe is aluminum - but nice nonetheless. There is nothing more relaxing than floating down a river in a canoe. We passed many, neatly-cultivated fields of marijuana, tucked in among the fields of wine grapes. They were tended by nervous-looking ex-hippies hoping that we were not Narcs. We didn't look like Narcs, but paranoid people see Narcs everywhere. We had to pick our camping spots carefully, since I had no idea we were traveling at the height of the pot harvest. Many people do not realize that marijuana is California's number one cash crop. Grapes are number two, if you want to know. Even in my college days, I was never a fan or user of marijuana, or alcohol for that matter.

Well, I got off-track again. I wanted to blog about air travel. I packed (tightly) everything that I needed for five days in one carry-on. My laptop and camera filled my briefcase. I beeped through the metal detector - my new watch and my belt buckle, but it was my bag that troubled the x-ray screener.

"Please come with me," he said politely.

The TSA officer took my bag for a physical inspection. Of course, I am in my bare feet waiting for my laptop and camera to come through before someone ripped it off.

"Do you have a Leatherman's Tool in your bag?"

"No, I don't own a Leatherman."

"Well, we see one in there..." I am thinking, "Great, I always wanted one of those."

So, he dug and he dug through my neatly packed rolls of underwear, socks, dress shoes, and assorted electronic gear that charges your laptop and cell phone. I had nothing to hide, and I had come in plenty of time.

My "Leatherman" turned out to be the buckle on my shaving kit (Yes, men with beards shave!), overlying some other junk. No Leatherman, of course, but no one will take your word.

Yuichi Kosio / CC BY 2.0

Many years ago, I was traveling with my son to fulfill a promise. We went to Cooperstown, NY, to the Baseball Hall of Fame to see Mike Schmidt be inducted. Mike Schmidt was my son's idol. On the way home, my son had bought a pewter disk about the size of a coaster with Mike's face embossed on it to add to his impressive collection of Schmidtobelia. This time, we were pushing the clock to make our flight. And, wouldn't you know it - the metal disk prompted a bag search.

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Airing Some Dirt

Photo: √oхέƒx™ / CC BY 2.0

Airplane cleanliness was one of my twelve Dirty Dozen that I discussed on a past Blog. My experience on my most recent cross-country flight has not changed my views. Like most businesses, the airline industry has to cut corners. I guess if I had to sacrifice cleanliness for safety, I would chose safety, hands down.

Hurry Up and Wait
We have to get to the airport now about two hours early due to safety inspections, and I did just that. However, I had to wait in line while only a few people checked us in. I had no bags to check. Now that I have my Rick Steve's travel bags, I can haul a weeks worth of clothes and several books, including a suit, into a backpack. My briefcase has my camera (I always carry it) and my essentials - toothbrush, comb, medications, and busy paperwork. Since 9/11, I have been more anxious about flying, so I try to remain busy. As a non-drinker, I do not have alcohol as an anti-anxiety crutch.

I stood (patiently) in line for over an hour. Once I checked in (I should have printed out my boarding pass the night before, but I worked too late and forgot), I was directed to my gate, about a mile away. That heavy backpack wasn't so convenient at this point. As you might expect, there was another line at security.

People were standing around in bare feet and all I could think about was foot fungus. I saw some pretty funky feet in that line. I was wearing sandals, but I had to take them off, too. I didn't think the space between my toes was much of a security risk, but I guess the soles of my sandals could have been an issue. I had gone to great detail making sure all of my liquids - shampoo, cologne - were in tiny bottles. I had nothing sharp, except my wit, of course. For some reason, my bags were set aside for the sniff-test, checking for explosive residue. I do not deal with explosive, so I had no worries, except that maybe I fit the profile of a mad bomber.

Frequent Flyer Seats
I was able to use my frequent flyer miles to upgrade to first class, although there are several degrees of first class. Every time that I do this, I get into seat 6A - the last row of first class. This is really much better than the first row, of course, since this row is the waiting area for the toilet. Not only do occupants in these seats get frequent whiffs from those open doors, but a few whiffs of those anxiously waiting for that one door to open.

I apparently have a huge bladder, since I can hold it for many hours. I don't like to use public restrooms, especially on an airplane. Turbulence tends to start about the time you try and pee anyway.

The last row of seats gets the meals that are not chosen first. On this breakfast leg of the flight, I just knew I would get cold cereal. So, as I ate my corn flakes, I thought about the cleanliness of my tray table that I forgot to wipe off. Was there a pile of used Kleenex sitting there from the previous passenger, recently diagnosed with H1N1 flu? How many sneezes did that tray get? I made sure not to touch it, or sit down my microwave-heated muffin. Between flights, airline personnel will empty the trash, but they do NOT sanitize the trays or arms of the seats. Since germs can remain on hard surfaces for hours, this concerns me.

Announcements
We live in an age of electronic marvels, so why do announcements on a plane hiss and echo like a New York subway. Granted, my hearing isn't what it used to be, but I had absolutely no idea what the pilot or flight attendants were talking about. They could be announcing a water landing, but I would not have a clue. In the event of a water landing, your seat cushion can be used as a floatation device. I can tell you right now, if we were making a water landing, my own seat cushion would not be suitable. I always listen to those safety briefings and notice where the emergency doors are located.

Pull Back and Wait
Airlines treasure their on-time statistics. This is why they pull back from the gate on-time, only to wait another 30 to 45 minutes on the tarmac. We had a 30 minute delay in Dallas, sitting there in the 100 degree heat, and a 45 minute "weather" delay in Washington, DC, on the way home. I don't mind weather delays, since I absolutely hate the storm cloud roller coaster. Once, while flying into Detroit, our plane hit some unexpected turbulence, the kind that will field test those seat cushions. The look on my face must have concerned my elderly female seat mate, because she took my hand and said, "It's okay, honey, I have been in worse than this. You'll be fine."

Seat Mates
On the first leg of my flight, I was entertained, non-stop, by an embittered newly divorced man. He was ragging about his ex-wife, her attorney, and his child support/alimony responsibilities. I picked up a new seat mate in Dallas, a cowboy (naturally). He was pleasantly quiet, drank a lot of free booze, and was miffed that he had to eat a salad for lunch. I sort of aced him out by choosing the last pasta dish.

A seasoned soldier, home from Iraq, shared one of the travel legs. He was Cuban, having immigrated in the late 1960's, after the Bay of Pigs. He still had a Spanish accent.

My seat mate on the way home was a young woman armed with an array of antibacterial hand lotions, wipes, and other forms of disinfectants. I did admire her recognition that planes are not the most sanitary modes of transportation, I think she overdid it a bit. I don't know why these sanitizers have to smell so much like perfume. It reminds me of those old ladies in church who use gallons of cologne to mask unwashed body odor. I coughed a few times from the fumes, which concerned her a great deal. If she had a mask, I am sure she would have worn it, or at least handed it to me. Incidentally, our clinic now has a "flu table" set up, complete with hand sanitizers, masks, gloves, and even gowns for people to use if they want. The airline industry should take a hint.

Idle Time
I had several books and bought a few magazines at the airport. Just likely eating all of your popcorn before the movie starts, I read nearly all of my magazines before the plane took off. My book is a bit boring, so I did nod off a few times. I am so concerned that I will loudly snore that I tend to avoid sleeping on the plane. My last seat mate had loaded a lot of movies on her laptop and was listening to them on some nice Bose headphones. I would glance at the movie from time to time, and wished that I would have brought my own laptop this time. Knowing that my brother, a Born-Again Apple user again, has one, I decided not to bring mine. I was thinking that I was sparing the extra weight, but your own in-flight movies on a laptop are sure a nice distraction for idle time.

Window seats give you the ability to spot clouds that may cause some unexpected bumps. Over California, I spotted several active forest fires - a seasonal threat to many of us who live in wooded areas. When I saw the deep, blue waters of Lake Tahoe, I knew I was nearly home. Soon, I spotted the rice fields adjacent to the airport. It is always nice to travel, but it is even better to be safely home.

Related Topics:

• WebMD Video: Healthy Airplane Travel
• Travel Health: Precautions Along the Way
• Ear, Nose & Throat Message Board with Rod Moser, PA, PhD
• Living Better Newsletter - Wellness news to keep you healthy and strong!