Wanting Elvis to Leave the Building – Or Why is a Conch Shell in My Ear?

For a week or more, I have had a conch shell in my right ear. The doctor called it an ear infection and said the ear is blocked with fluid, but I know the sound of the sea in a conch shell when I hear it. Sorry doc.
Now the sound of the sea is romantic. But with a conch shell I can put it down when I’ve had enough romance and use my ear for other things. But having an actual conch shell living in my ear is not working out. Do you know how hard it is to practice clarinet with just one good ear? (Ok, never mind that I still play sharp with two good ears. Working on it.)
So this thing has to go. And soon. There are a number of theories about how to remove the conch shell. The doc favors antibiotics. Only problem: who decided all antibiotic pills have to be the actual diameter of my throat? Choking to death is not an option for getting well. So just like any pediatric victim of an ear infection, I have a brown bottle of cherry flavored liquid and a squirting teaspoon dispenser. So far the results from option one are not stellar.
Option two. Holistic healing. Being a fan of Louise Hay, when some part of my otherwise reliable physical self is on the blink, I run for You Can Heal Your Life. I admit to loving the entire story of this book. Overcoming the odds and optimism. And I met Ms. Hay once in person and was totally charmed. But, the truth is, the chart in the back of symptoms and affirmations is a hypochondriac’s dream. (Don’t I wish the conch shell in my ear were just hypochondria. I’d have it out of there in a heart beat. Or thought beat, I guess.) (Notice cool use of the subjunctive to demonstrate the conch is not hypochondria. Only English majors even remember what a subjunctive is.)
Anyway, according to the chart, I developed this annoying symptom, not to romance the sea in my ear, but because I am “Angry. Not wanting to hear. Too much turmoil and my parents are arguing.” Well, if I am angry, I have no idea why. I do want to hear. Any yes, my parents were champion arguers but one of them has been dead for more than thirty years, and I haven’t lived with the other one for even longer.  Granted she is probably is still arguing alone,  but I can’t hear her with either ear.
But a good affirmation or two can’t hurt. So I am chanting, “Harmony surrounds me. I listen with love to the pleasant and the good. I am a center for love.” I like the last one, a lot. And after chanting these at least once, the conch vanished for about three minutes. Really. Like Elvis, it left the building. But not for long. So now I am an antibiotic swigging, chanting host to a conch shell in my ear. Perks: cherry taste of the med, and feeling good when I say “I am a center for love.” Downside: well, we know that one.
Option three. The Abraham-Hicks approach: that which you dwell on gets bigger. So DON’T THINK ABOUT IT. Kind of difficult when you are trying to HEAR, but I’m game.
Option four and final option for now: Go fill up the bathroom with steam from the shower and breath it to open my sinuses and hopefully, my ear.  Hey, it’s pleasant, harmless, and tasteless, and I can chant while I don’t think about the ocean roaring in my ear! And I can light the lavender candle to banish the anger I didn’t know I had. (Still skeptical about that one.) Will let you know when Elvis leaves the building for good.