Fun With Audiology: Making Ear Molds

Did you know that ears are one of the few body parts that never stop
growing? I think noses might be the other. Besides hair and
fingernails, obviously.

When you wear behind-the-ear hearing aids, the hearing aids last for
years, but the ear molds—the little custom-made silicone or acrylic
doohickeys that fits into your ear—need replacing every so often. As
your ear grows, the ear mold ceases to fit, and first you get a
feedback problem, and then eventually the mold just won’t stay in the
ear at all.

So you go to the audiologist’s office, and she makes new impressions
of your ears with a quick-hardening goo. You ship the impressions off
to a lab, and in a couple of weeks you’ll have your brand new ear molds.

If you are three years old, you may find this process somewhat
entertaining, if mildly uncomfortable. If you are six years old and the
uncomfortable part is happening to your brother, not to you, you will
consider it a ripping good time. Beanie pronounced it "huge fun."

I get a large number of hits every day from hearing-aid-related
searches, including variations of "toddler ear molds," so I thought it
might be helpful if I posted a walk-through of the process. Besides,
pictures are always fun.

First the audiologist checks your ears, making sure there isn’t too
much wax in there—that might mess up the shape of the impression. Then
she carefully inserts a little foam stopper to make sure none of the
impression goo goes too far up the ear canal.

Then she pops the two kinds of goo out of their little bubble
wrappers, and she mixes them together into a pliable substance that can
be squeezed out of a syringe but will harden within a few minutes.
Beanie, supervising, thought this mixing process looked pretty nifty
and is now wondering how to work "become an audiologist" into her plan
to be a scuba-diver with ten children.

The audiologist scoops the goo into the syringe and carefully
squeezes it into the ear, sort of like making an icing rose on a
birthday cake. Now you have to sit and wait. You can’t poke at the goo,
much as you might wish to. Nor can you pull on the string that is
connected to the little foam stopper inside your ear canal. Patience,
grasshopper.

Meanwhile, the audiologist squirts the leftover goo out of the syringe. This, I am told, is THE BEST PART.

Let’s do the other ear while we’re waiting. It’s okay to drool.

Finished! Time to pull out the impression. No need to be suspicious; it won’t bite.

The impressions go into a box and are dispatched to the Lab, that mysterious place where ear molds are born.

Now comes the fun part! (The other fun part, says Beanie.)
What color ear molds do you want? The sky’s the limit. No, Bean, your
brother isn’t getting the sparkles.

What color did he get? You’ll have to wait two weeks to find out.

Poetry Friday: The Baby’s Contribution

Sisters, by Rilla

They scoop me up and say I’m delicious;
They grant practically all of my wishes
(Except when I wish to gnaw on a Lego).
Mostly I wish to go where they go.

Jane is the one who totes me like mother
And won’t let me pull out the hair of my brother.
Rose guards me from anything ‘ticingly teeny.
The one who twirls me around is Beanie.


This week’s Poetry Friday roundup can be found at Chicken Spaghetti.