He found a thread titled “Pseudoephedrine didn’t unclog my ear, now what?” with four hundred comments.
The logic was sound. A few days ago, he’d had the telltale sandpaper-throat of a cold. Now, the cold had retreated, leaving behind a hostage situation in his middle ear. The Eustachian tube—that narrow, floppy passage between his throat and ear—was swollen shut, trapping fluid like a forgotten water balloon.
It was 2:47 on a miserable Tuesday when Leo first noticed it. Not a pop, not a crackle, but a deep, oceanic thrum in his left ear. The world, already grey with March rain, went quiet on one side. His own voice sounded like he was speaking from the bottom of a well.
.
