Sarah Richardson, 24, Nuneaton
Stretching my arms over my head, I awoke to the familiar sounds of my grandparents’ house.
They were pottering about while my mum Alison, then 49, chattered away happily.
And in the background of it all, I could hear the shrill sound of the kettle boiling.
It was December 2011 and I was soon up, dressed, and downstairs for a cuppa, too.
But as the day continued, that whistling sound I heard never went away.
In fact, for the best part of the next month, it never waivered.
Some days, it was really loud and distracting.
Other times, it was easy to ignore.
But whether I was putting on headphones or cleaning my ears, the noise was always there.
Finally, at the end of January 2012,…
