The constant whoosing in my brain

By Karla Mundo

There is an incessant whooshing sound on the right side of my brain that has, little by little, been taking away my life. It started on June 14, 2020, a few days before my birthday. I had barely recovered from the devastating symptoms of COVID-19, which had left me bedridden and extremely fatigued during the Christmas of 2019.

I remember coming home late from a wonderful night in San Diego. As we were parking, I heard a very loud sound, like someone doing laundry. I told my husband, “Someone is washing late,” as it was midnight. That night, I thought what I heard was external—a sound that would end or go away as soon as a machine was turned off. It turned out that no one was washing; I was the only one hearing what has since become a permanent frequency in my right hemisphere.

Three years have passed since then, and although the sound sometimes fades, it is always there. How could I have imagined that my life was going to enter such a dark abyss—a loop of searching for answers and having to live with something I was not born with?

As the days passed and the overwhelming sound took over my sleep, I began to develop severe anxiety. I called the emergency nurse for several nights in a row. My heart was agitated and experiencing arrhythmias; I truly thought I was having a stroke or an aneurysm. Since then, I have given this frequency the benefit of the doubt.

I thought that maybe it wasn't a physical warning, but a spiritual one. I went to a healer who told me about the ability some people develop to hear the vibration of the Earth. She suggested perhaps a message from another realm was trying to reach me. It was a "gift," she mentioned—and as such, I tried to embrace it. But I wondered: how could a gift cause such stress, sadness, and worry?

A friend suggested I shouldn't pay it too much attention. She told me a story of a time she had a similar sound that eventually went away. I was hopeful and optimistic that mine would come to an end, too. So, I ignored it and ignored it... but unfortunately, it remained.

Many people spoke to me about their tinnitus. My doctor even wrote "tinnitus" in my chart, although it did not match the sounds or symptoms I had. I was referred from specialist to specialist. The ENT checked my ear canals and found no infection. He ordered a CT scan of my brain and ears to ensure there was no tumor. I went to a neurologist who did not think it was COVID-related and had no explanation for it. She implied it was mental—as if I were imagining the sound—and suggested a psychologist. With every doctor’s visit, my anger and frustration grew. I knew there was something physically wrong.

How could doctors disregard my concerns and the fact that this sound was consuming me, deteriorating my quality of life, simply because they did not know what it was?

With no other choices available in the medical field, I tried changing my diet, exercising, and meditating. I finally came to accept that perhaps years of chronic inflammation and insulin resistance due to a lack of sleep were the culprits, yet there was still no cure and no diagnosis.

On the second anniversary of living with this constant, malfunctioning frequency, my only birthday wish was for the sound to end. Instead, I experienced a year of terrible stomach pains that led to more doctors, studies, and biopsies. "It is not cancer," they said, telling me to check back in five years. It has been exhausting trying to find optimal health only to have something else happen to my body. I intend for health and answers daily, but are there always answers? Perhaps not.

I tried to let it go. It has been 6 years now. I focused on my son’s home education and spent as much time outdoors as possible. I realized that the sounds of cars, ocean waves, and loud music made the whooshing feel as if it never existed. My chiropractor husband has poured every ounce of his knowledge and love into helping me. We hoped and brainstormed together, waiting for results, yet the loud sound remained.

I often wonder: could the sound in my brain be my body telling me that something is deeply wrong with my health? I do not know for certain; I am just trying to figure out why this high-frequency sound in my right brain is still here. It definitely gets louder with stress, and my lack of proper sleep less. No matter what pills or breathing techniques I try, my sleep is dysregulated.

To me, it would make more sense if doctors acknowledged the coincidence that the sound started just after I recovered from a severe case of COVID-19. What if there was an infection that never truly healed? It couldn’t be, right? Not since the ENT assured me there was no infection.

It would also make sense if doctors considered that my chronic insomnia was finally affecting my brain. After all, I have been waking up at 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning for the past 18 years. I am unable to get my usual eight hours of sleep regardless of valerian root, melatonin, relaxing songs, meditation, or chants. I am still a mother and a wife with a full-time routine, educating a teenager while functioning on half the sleep I need.

One  night, I broke into tears, as I have done many times during these episodes. This is certainly not the "normal" sound humans go to bed and awaken with. It is impossible to function happily 24/7 without rest. It is heartbreaking; it weakens me to the point where I don’t know if I will wake up or die from such reduced sleep. 

Some days, sadness and frustration invade me, and I feel hopeless. Issues like this certainly impact your marriage and your relationships with others. I hope to find a guide, a guru, a healer, or a doctor who reads my case and remembers another exactly like it—one with a solution.

I hope to recover my strength and my life. I wish I could tell you that everything is awesome with my health! I think most of us who cannot solve our health riddles just want to be healthy. I cannot imagine someone waking up happy to be ill or happy to be in pain.

In all this agony, I am grateful for the moments I can connect with others. I am grateful for my ability to laugh and enjoy the beauty of God’s presence in many forms. I am searching for a miracle.

I still have memories of a time when I slept profoundly, without a whooshing sound echoing through my dreams. I know for sure that rest brought laughter, true joy, and quality of life.

Have you ever experienced a sound, or a chronic condition or illness, that never goes away?