Where The Husband lights candles and sticks them in my ears

The husband is a poorly boy as he has a problem with his middle ear and has been feeling dizzy when he moves suddenly.
I've had the same thing myself and that strange heaving sensation induced a quick flashback to a trip I once made to Amsterdam, by Ferry in January.(If you're thinking of doing the same, my advice is don't).  It may be for the best that the details are a blur but I recall the room swirling madly as the contents leapt around as if in a centrifuge.
The doctor diagnosed a middle ear problem and prescribed anti-biotics but Bee suggested going to the local Hippy shop for an alternative treatment.  The shop smells of Patchouli and is bursting with crystals hanging on bits of string, things that look like spiders web's but are called dream catchers, tiny 'Zen' water features, wind chimes and Feng Shui books.
"Ah," said Sapphire Moon, the kaftan clad Lady who runs the shop, as I described the symptoms, "we have just the thing."
Her turbaned assistant nodded sagely, "You need some of the American Indian Hopi ear candles."
"Hah," I said, "what do you do with those light them and stick them in your ears?" I winked at Bee, thinking I was being terribly witty.
"Have you used them before? Sapphire Moon said surprised, "because that's exactly what you do with them."
Which is how I came to be lying on the living room carpet while The Husband lit one of the cigarette sized candles. "Are you sure about this?" He kept saying, "I'm sure this is a war crime in some countries."
You're supposed to do one at a time, which is just as well, as if I'd stuck one in each ear I wouldn't have been able to resist having a glance in the mirror to see if I looked like something from a wacky cartoon and would probably have passed out instantly.
"What's it supposed to do any way? Other than terrify the parrot?"
"Apparently the candles act like tiny chimneys and draw the air out of your ears so the poorly bits realign or something like that." I said looking out the corner of my eye at the tiny sparks. Even more disconcertingly, I could then hear fizzing and sizzling and I had a panic attack when I wondered how much hairspray I'd used earlier in the day.
"Hmmm," said The Husband doubtfully, standing back from the smoke rings "doesn't sound very scientific to me."
But, next morning the pain mysteriously subsided and I felt a little less dizzy.
"So do you remember all that then?" I said to The Husband, "Sapphire moon probably still has them in stock."
"If you're for one minute going to suggest sticking what looks like dynamite into my ears, lighting the touch paper and standing well back you've gone completely barking," The Husband says. "Nope, I'll stick with modern medicine and TLC, any chance of a cup of tea and a Kit-Kat with the papers?"