Dentist mission part 1

I was sitting in a waiting room, waiting for an appointment to get a new night guard for my teeth. The type of mouth guard I needed was similar to the ones that boxers or rugby players wear to protect their teeth. This type of dental guard however is custom made, in order to fit individual mouths comfortably. I had been aware of grinding and clenching my teeth whilst sleeping, for at least 15 years, and had recently been waking up in the middle of the night with my teeth clenched tightly together. It was as though my subconscious was intervening and was now warning me when my teeth were engaged in this habit.

I already owned a mouth guard which I wore on my bottom teeth, and which had been made over 10 years ago, when I lived in England. I had worn this guard on and off for many years. In the past, when I went to the dentist, the only question I was ever asked about the guard was whether or not I had one. Nobody ever asked me how old it was. It had been expensive to have made, and I never thought about getting another one. It was only recently after my consultation with the Maxillofacial doctor; who seemed confounded that I had been using the same guard for over 10 years without having it adjusted, checked or replaced, that I realized perhaps I should get a new one. Of course, our faces change with age, as do or jaws and teeth.

The relationship between teeth grinding and clenching, and problems with the temporomandibular jaw joint (TMJ) causing problems with the ear are well documented. Curious that this connection was never mentioned by any of the many ear specialists I had consulted with. Typical symptoms of a TMJ disorder include ‘hearing loss, an earache, tinnitus, a sense of ear fullness, and vertigo’. Hmm I had experienced all of these, and continued to do so with all except the vertigo. I had even read stories of people who had suffered a hearing loss, and then after wearing a night guard for some months, their hearing had gradually returned. I was not hoping for this kind of miracle, but I did have some optimism that a new night guard could help reduce some of the pressure I was feeling in my ears and my head; this being the most difficult of my symptoms to tolerate.

The dentist surgery was in an old style apartment block. The waiting room felt as though it was probably once someone’s living room, many years ago. The room was square and dark padded sofa chairs lined three of the walls. There were no windows, and the walls were a plain dismal-cream colour. Around the bottom of the walls was dark brown skirting. There was a dark coffee table, situated in the space made between the chairs, with Spanish magazines arranged on top, in three piles. It was simply decorated, with two large framed pictures, one on each chair-lined wall. In the far corner, situated up high, near the entrance was a small box TV playing a Spanish soap opera with subtitles and low volume. As well as the low rumble from the TV, jingly-sounding elevator style music attempted to liven up the atmosphere. The surgery had looked so clean and white on the photos on the website. This definitely did not resemble the sterile and shiny images that had been advertised.

The receptionist called me to her office to speak with her. She had a confident, sociable and easy going attitude. I stumbled my way through the general health questions and she corrected my Spanish a few times, each time smiling with friendliness. She was the kind of person who made me feel like she immediately liked me. Perhaps it was the child-like Spanish I was speaking to her. For this appointment I hadn’t prepared any Spanish phrases or helpful vocabulary. I had become accustomed to meeting new specialists, doctors and receptionists, and the taking of basic details didn’t feel too scary anymore. I then went to sit back in the waiting room.

Shortly I was greeted by the guy with whom I had spoken on the phone, who had given me an appointment within 45 minutes of me phoning. He was younger than me, and spoke to me in a mixture of Spanish and American-sounding English, as he lead me to the dentists room. When I entered, I was met by a small old man, who was wearing a medical face mask, dentist overalls, glasses with magnifying mirrors attached, and whose bald head was covered in age spots. He muffled a greeting through his mask, and I wondered what he looked like under the medical disguise. He resembled a little mole, as he shuffled calmly around the room. He asked me why I was there and whether I had had a ‘ferula’ before. Ferula is the Spanish word for mouth guard – this was my new medical Spanish word of the day. He asked me to perform some jaw movements as he felt around my head and under my jawline. He also examined my teeth. He mumbled constantly into his face mask, directing his speech towards his companion. I could only hear and understand a little of what he was saying. The younger dental technician spoke to me in his broken American English and explained that they would need to do an X-ray to make sure the night guard would fit properly, and then they would be able to do the molds of my teeth. After that, the dentist left the room, and that was the last time I saw him during this appointment. The dental technician took me to a room to have the X-ray. Later he filled my mouth with pink putty to form the molds, chatting happily at me whilst my mouth was unable to move. I would return the following week…

My first run – Starting to feel normal again

Six months after experiencing sudden sensorineural hearing loss in my left ear I decided I was ready to go for a run. My body had been through a lot during the past few months. The hearing loss had been a shock. I had felt frightened and helpless. My body had felt like a vessel used for experimentation; exploring the effects of different types of drugs on my condition: anti-inflammatories, nasal sprays, intravenous steroids, intravenous anti-viral medication, injections of steroids through my ear drum and different types of vasodilators. My body had felt delicate and vulnerable; I had experienced side effects of weakness, loss of weight, low blood pressure, tiredness and dizziness. But enough was enough; I wanted to start to feel more normal again. I love running. Running always makes me feel happy. It makes me feel strong. It is also a time where I can completely forget about any worries or unwanted thoughts. I wanted to switch off from the recent past.

I had asked my chiropractor, the week before, as to whether he would recommend that I start running again. I remembered that, when I first met him, nearly 4 months ago, he had asked about what kind of exercise I did. Due to the problems I was having with my neck, he had encouraged me to take a rest from running until my neck was feeling better. At this time, I was also dizzy and taking medicine that my body was struggling with, and so didn’t feel strong enough to able to go running anyway. Yet now I wasn’t too dizzy and I wanted to feel stronger. I missed running and thought it might help cheer me up, and help me on my road to recovery. It was also another thing that I would be able to do for the first time with unilateral hearing – another experience to say I have tried, since living with single-sided deafness.

I waited for a few days after visiting my chiropractor, to go for my run. I wanted my first run to be on a sunny day. I wanted my first run to be a good run. I wanted to wake up, see the sunshine, and be spurred on by the beautiful Madrid weather, to go outside and have a go! I did exactly that. I had checked the weather forecast beforehand and it was going to be a nice day. I got out of bed when my boyfriend had left for work, and I rushed to the window. The sun was shining optimistically in the sky, and I decided today was the day.

Putting on my running clothes, I noticed how my body had changed since I had last worn them in the summer before I lost my hearing. My legs were thinner and my bottom was flatter and my stomach looked small and weak.

I walked briskly for 15 minutes to the nearby running track. It is difficult to run on the streets of Madrid as there are always lots of people around, even during the daytime. I didn’t want to feel vulnerable whilst stuck in the traffic of people. I enjoyed the sun, and breathed the air; taking strong breaths to fill my lungs. I find that when I go running, I realize what a small part of my lungs I actually use during everyday activity. Shallow breathing is a habit of mine, as I am sure it is for many people. It’s almost like we forget to breathe, and it’s actually quite an effort to fill your lungs with every breath, when you’re not used to doing it.

When I got to the track, I was surprised at how many people were there enjoying their morning exercise. I immediately started to run; making sure I was moving slowly and focusing on keeping my shoulders slightly back and good posture. I was listening to a storytelling podcast though my running earphones. I didn’t pay attention to the noise of the tinnitus in my ear that resounds with increased stubbornness when the sounds of the outside world are blocked by ear phones. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that I could only hear the story in my right ear. I was purely happy. I was running in the sunshine, enjoying listening to stories. I was feeling normal again.

The only time I thought about my hearing loss and the pressure and tinnitus in my ear, was when I actually realized that I hadn’t thought of these problems.  So the only time I thought about these issues was actually thinking about the absence of thinking of them! Exercise is well known to be a distraction from life’s worries. This was my proof. My first time running with unilateral hearing was a success.

I sent my sister a message later that day, telling her about my achievement. She replied and wrote that she was so glad that I had been for a run and that I was ‘getting my Carlyness back’ 🙂

Day four with my new ear

My boyfriend and I had planned to go to Cercedilla, a nearby mountainous town, an hour from Madrid by train. It is a beautiful town surrounded by nature, and is a perfect place for hiking. We were going there for the day to escape the busyness and noise of the city, and to enjoy a gentle walk in the mountains.

It was day four of wearing my hearing aid. I had already tested out my new ear whilst watching television and whilst walking outside. I was going to use this opportunity to try my new ear in some other, more challenging, situations; the Metro and on a train.

The first test was the Metro. I was standing with my boyfriend on the platform waiting for the train to arrive. Since losing the hearing in my left ear, and gaining a sensitivity to sound, the noise of the Metro approaching the platform can feel painful and unpleasant. I can feel it piercing deep inside my ears. Whilst wearing the hearing aid, this uncomfortable feeling was accentuated and my immediate reaction was to try and cover both ears with my hands in an attempt to soften the noise. When the train was approaching, a guy came to ask us for something. He was speaking to us and making animated gestures with his body. The noise of the train and his voice were processed by my hearing aid and were turned into a harsh series of beeps. I couldn’t understand what the person was saying. Every word he spoke made a metallic beeping sound when it reached my new ear. My boyfriend explained later to me that the guy had first spoken in Spanish. My boyfriend hadn’t understood the guy and had told him he was English; he hadn’t wanted to encourage conversation with the seemingly unsavoury character. The guy then replied in English, expressing to my boyfriend that he wanted to go to a café. I hadn’t comprehended any of this small exchange of words. I hadn’t even realized that the unusual character had spoken in two different languages. All the sounds of the Metro station were amplified in my new ear; the bell sound to signal the train approaching and the screeching noise of the decelerating train. My new ear was supposed to be helping me to hear better in the presence of background noise. This was not the case. The amplification of sounds and the accompanied beeping noises were dominating my listening skills, which in turn was distorting and obstructing the understanding of my good ear. Normally, without any hearing aid, I could have moved closer to the guy who came to speak to us and put my good ear next to him. I would have been able to hear some of what he was saying. The hearing aid had actually hindered any chance I had of following the conversation. I felt a momentary sense of deflation crushing me. Confusingly however, I also felt some optimism. Although the metallic noises I was hearing in my new ear weren’t actual words and although they were distorted and difficult, it was still comforting to hear something; anything in my deaf ear.

Whilst sitting on the Metro I also noticed something positive. I was sat next to a girl who was sitting on my deaf side. She was talking to her friend who was standing up next to her. Normally everything would fall into silence on my deaf side on the Metro, and I would be oblivious to the world to the left of me unless I turned my head to see the activity. But this time, with my new ear, I was faintly aware that the two girls were speaking. Although I couldn’t hear any helpful letter sounds or words, I was hearing a slight beep for each syllable they were speaking.

The second test was the train station. On entering the train station I simultaneously entered my bubble of noise. Noises of train announcements and the chatter of people merged together. In large covered spaces with many sources of noise, the sounds seem to bounce off one another and encircle me; forcing me into my bubble. It is a bubble of misunderstanding and bewilderment. It is a bubble of pressure that dominates the inside of my head and ears. It is a bubble of isolation. My new ear was supposed to be helping me to hear better in the presence of background noise. Again, this was not the case.

As to be expected, the train was also bustling with the chatter of adults, and with the weekend excitement of children’s voices. On the train I opened the battery compartment of my hearing aid on my deaf side, so as to stop my new ear picking up the train noise. I decided that I would prefer my left ear to be in its world of deafness; ignorant to the bustle that surrounded it. I played music from my iPod into my good ear. It was a beautiful sunny day. I’d been avoiding wearing earphones. I’d been avoiding music. It had previously felt too intense in my good ear. But on this day, above all the chatter and train noise, it felt amazing to be listening to music in my little world. On this day, although the tests of my new ear had proved somewhat disappointing, my body was showing me that it was starting to adjust to my unilateral hearing. Being able to listen to music for a short time without too much discomfort was a small but wonderful improvement. It was some encouragement. Small triumphs were spurring me on. During the train ride, with my music playing and the sun shining, and with my view of Spanish countryside whizzing past my window, I was holding back little tears of contentment.

Testing and Hope

Less than a week following my consultation with the new specialist, I went to meet with a private hearing healthcare professional to discuss hearing aid options. When I’d made my appointment I had asked if there was anyone who spoke English. My hearing loss in itself has brought communication difficulties. Trying to manage it and to make advances with consultations in a second language has added extra challenge; an extra layer to tackle and deal with. The receptionist said she only spoke a little English. I wasn’t sure if I had managed to convey my question clearly as to whether there was an audiologist who I could consult with in English; not whether she, the receptionist, spoke English. Of course I am trying to learn Spanish, and always try to communicate with people in shops, restaurants and cafes in Spanish. But when discussing something as important as my health, and what could possibly also be a big investment (hearing aids can be very expensive), I wanted to make sure I had optimum chance of comprehension and the ability to ask questions and to communicate my needs and feelings successfully.

I arrived alone and very nervous. Not only was I anxious at the prospect of yet again trying to convey, in Spanish, the fact that I had ‘suddenly’ lost my hearing in my left ear, but also because this was the first step to a possible big change in the way I live my life. I was admitting to myself, and making peace with the fact, that I wasn’t going to be able to hear again in my left ear. I hoped to gain some support. I hoped to gain some closure. I was also putting myself again, in the vulnerable position to perhaps be told that there would be nothing I could try that could help.

I sat in the waiting room, for about 5 minutes, and then was greeted by a friendly looking Spanish woman in a white jacket who said ‘hello’ to me in unconfident-sounding English. A man followed the woman, and he shook my hand and greeted me with a much more comfortable version of ‘hello’.

I was led directly into a hearing testing booth. The woman who I assumed was the audiologist, went through the door to the other side of the booth, and sat opposite me; observing me through a transparent screen. The man came into the room with me and began to explain the procedure in English. I was incredibly relieved – this man was here solely to translate for me. He explained that they were going to do different hearing tests to see if there was any type of hearing device that could help me. The man then joined the woman on the other side of the glass. Next proceeded a series of different tests.

I carried out the usual Pure Tone Audiometry hearing test; raising my hand every time I heard the ‘beep’ sound in my hearing ear. The man gave me a thumbs-up gesture after my first test – the testing of my right ear. Then they tested the left (deaf) ear. As usual they had to play the sound of wind into my good ear, whilst testing the deaf ear. My head was conducting the sound. My good ear could hear the sound that was being played into my bad ear, when there was sound played at loud levels.  The wind noise was to distract my good ear from hearing the sound and confusing the results of my left ear. As usual I could only hear a few beeps. They then carried out the Bone Conduction test. This tests how well sounds transmitted through the bone are heard. As usual, I could not hear anything for this test, in my left ear. Next they did a Loudness Discomfort test. For this test, the audiologist played increasingly loud sounds into my ear, and I had to say when the sound was uncomfortable. I was glad they were carrying out this test; one which I hadn’t previously done. I had been struggling with everyday sounds, and my tolerance of noise, especially when loud, was noticeably lower than before I lost my hearing. I guess it is important for audiologists to perform this test when deciding on appropriate hearing aids: since hearing aids amplify sound, the audiologists need to ensure this sound is within the comfortable range for their customers. Next they performed a Word Recognition test which tested my ability to correctly repeat back words at a comfortable loudness level. The audiologist said words and I had to repeat them. The words were in Spanish, and I joked that it was like a Spanish language test. They assured me jokingly that I wouldn’t be marked on pronunciation. I carried out the test, in a language that I am still learning; I struggled with the rolling of my r’s for some of the words.  My right ear seemed to cope with this test with ease. My left ear struggled. All I heard in my left ear were some distorted noises; high pitched and mostly two syllables.  I couldn’t relate the noises to letter sounds or words. I couldn’t verbally make the strange noises I was hearing. I just shook my head after each distorted word. Then the audiologist changed a setting, and I could hear every word she said in my left ear! It was an extremely painful level of loudness and seemed high pitched. But I could hear, and this was amazing! I was hearing words! Brimming with emotion, I repeated back, in my best Spanish, the words she was saying. The audiologist and translator spoke to me through the glass about how the audible sound in my left ear felt. I told them that it was wonderful to be able to hear, but that it was very uncomfortable.

Next we went into a room with a desk, and the audiologist and translator spoke to me about what they thought would be my best option. The audiologist told me that the only option she thought that would work for me would be a Signia Siemans Pure Contra Lateral Routing of Signal (CROS) hearing aid.  I was told that as there was only the tiniest bit of hearing in my left ear, they couldn’t promise it would be a great help. But they said they might be able to get me 30 percent hearing…maybe 40 percent. The main benefit would be that I would have more chance of being able to hear better in background noise. Using this technology, a hearing aid-like device on my deaf side would use its microphone to pick up sound from that side and send it to another instrument at the better ear; wirelessly via bluetooth. The sound would then be introduced into the good ear. Wow! It sounded perfect! They showed me an app I could get on my phone that I could use to change the settings. If I was in a restaurant I could make the microphone focus on where the people were sitting, e.g. if they were positioned in front of me, I could press the corresponding areas of a diagram on my phone, and the microphone would focus on these areas. There was a setting for music. If I wanted to go to a live music show, I could press a button and it would pick up the music in surround sound. I told them I would like to try the device, and they asked me what colour I’d like. I hadn’t even thought of this! I asked the audiologists opinion, and she suggested one that matched my hair colour.

I had moulds taken of my ear and was given an appointment for a week later, where they would fit the hearing aid and show me how it works. I would be trying to use it for an hour or so each day, and then increase the time every day, and would have regular updates with the audiologist.

Finally, some hope.

 

Seeking alternative help – Trying to solve the mystery: Part 2

…Just under 7 weeks after losing my hearing, I went to consult with a chiropractor. I had never been to a chiropractor before, and wanted to know his opinion about my situation. My boyfriend and I arrived for my initial consultation, and we were greeted with a handshake from a very professional-looking English guy. We immediately felt at ease. He had a calm and patient manner, and listened to my story; asking relevant questions throughout. He was so refreshing to talk to and filled us with hope and optimism. None of the hospital specialists had shown any support of my theory that an issue with my neck or jaw could have contributed to my sudden hearing loss.

The chiropractor showed us a poster similar to the one below:

Note that the vertebrae C1 – C4 all have connections to the ear and hence to hearing. The chiropractor told us that it was completely plausible that a problem with my neck could be affecting my hearing; perhaps due to a restriction of blood flow or a problem affecting the auditory nerve. He obviously was interested in my case, and also showed great optimism, and pride in his work. He didn’t give us false hope. He said he could definitely help me. He felt my whole neck was ‘blocked’, and said he could help with this, and this could possibly in turn help me regain some hearing.

I continued to see the chiropractor. Each time he made similar adjustments to my neck and back. He helped me understand so much about the connections in the body, the nervous system, and how to maintain good spinal health. During one visit, he also told me a little about the history of chiropractic, something that I later looked up at home:

The history of chiropractic began in 1895 when Daniel David Palmer of Iowa performed the first chiropractic adjustment on a partially deaf janitor, Harvey Lillard. While Lillard was working without his shirt on in Palmers office, Lillard bent over to empty the trash can. Palmer noticed that Lillard had a vertebra out of position. He asked Lillard what happened, and Lillard replied, “I moved the wrong way, and I heard a ‘pop’ in my back, and that’s when I lost my hearing.” Palmer, who was also involved in many other natural healing philosophies, had Lillard lie face down on the floor and proceeded with the adjustment. The next day, Lillard told Palmer, “I can hear that rackets on the streets.” This experience led Palmer to open a school of chiropractic two years later. (Wikepedia)

So there is a direct link between chiropractic adjustments and the restoration of hearing, after hearing loss has been experienced!

I continue to see my chiropractor every few weeks now, and my neck is feeling much better. Although there has been no miracle cure, I am happy to know that I have taken the time to sort out a problem that I have lived with for so long, and will continue to practise good spinal health. I also continue to refuse to lose all hope in one day possibly experiencing some improvement in my condition. I’m not saying that I believe I will have a complete recovery, more that our bodies take time to heal and maybe one day things could improve for me or become more comfortable.

I also went to see an osteopath. He was an interesting man, who was obviously passionate about his work, and keen to continue to learn new things about the body. He also specialized in Chinese medicine. He took another different outlook on possible reasons for my hearing loss. It was my first time consulting with an osteopath. He asked me lots of general health questions about my digestion, whether I had bladder infections, and how well I sleep. He placed his hands on different parts of my body and said that there was a blocked channel of blood flow to my head. He also said that there was a problem with the membrane in my deaf ear. He placed little stickers on different parts of my body; some on my feet; white quartz stickers on my jaw next to my ear, which were positioned on acupuncture points; and mustard seeds on pressure points on my ear – relating to the ear, nervous system and jaw. I had to press the mustard seeds firmly throughout the day. During future visits he also explained that he could feel my deaf ear was ‘impacted with pressure’. He did lots of things to help with blood flow to the ear; applying light pressure in different areas. He also talked about how the kidney is directly associated with hearing in Chinese medicine. The osteopath was obviously a very divergent thinker. Nevertheless, the little white stickers that he placed next to my ears did provide some relief from the ear pressure I experience. I also continue to stay in touch with him, and see him every month or so. He finds my case interesting. He explained to me that he can easily fix something like tennis elbow, but my case was something he hadn’t seen before and it intrigued him. He enjoyed the challenge of exploring his manuals for possible methods of help, and then putting these strategies into practise.  He also filled me with hope and said that if the doctors can’t find the answer, then maybe he can, or maybe a physiotherapist, or someone else. He urged me to never stop seeking help.

I continue to feel that whilst the hospital specialists still have no answer as to a reason for my loss of hearing, that it could be related to something skeletal or other ongoing issues with my body. Maybe just one factor or, possibly more likely, a few issues working together to have caused my hearing loss.

Seeking alternative help – Trying to solve the mystery: Part 1

When I first lost my hearing, I thought it was a result of a problem with my neck or my jaw. When I first lost my hearing, I never thought my hearing would be lost forever. I have had problems with my neck for many years, and the day I lost my hearing, it was feeling painful. As mentioned before, I had previously been told that the pulsatile tinnitus I experienced six years ago (for three years) was due to problems with my neck; this strengthened my impression that the loss of my hearing could be due to a cervical spine issue. Also, my jaw looked swollen on the left too; my parents even commented on this when I Skyped them after getting out of hospital. In fact, there are some other ongoing health issues that I have, that may or may not be connected to the sudden loss of my hearing in my left ear. I have had a deviated septum for as long as I can remember, which means that I cannot breathe through my left nostril. When I was 4 years old, I had my left kidney removed. I have also had problems with my jaw; due to grinding my teeth when I’m asleep, and for which I wear a dental night guard– and yes, this is also worse on the left side; evident as my teeth on this side are completely worn down.

Since losing my hearing I have sought alternative help in addition to the consultations I have had with hospital specialists and doctors. There is so little known about Sudden Sensorineural hearing Loss (SSHL), and what causes it. I read that only 10 to 15 percent of the people diagnosed with SSHL have an identifiable cause. I may be naïve in thinking it, but I couldn’t help but feel that maybe the 85-90 percent of people who lost their hearing to an unknown cause may not have explored all possible explanations.

I have met many people along the way so far, in trying to solve the mystery of my hearing loss; all who seem perplexed at this condition. Whilst feeling stranded and often helpless in a world of medical testing, these alternative sources of help have provided me with relief and also hope that there could be an answer to my problem. I wanted to make sure I was investigating all possible reasons for my hearing loss, and didn’t want to stop until I had more information on what had happened to me to cause the loss of hearing in my left ear.

After the day in the auditorium when I experienced SSHL, I had carried on with life as usual; going to work, and was waiting for a recovery. I was finding everything very difficult, and four days after losing my hearing, my boyfriend got me an appointment to have a Shiatsu massage. I had never had this type of massage before, but knew that Shiatsu is a physical therapy that supports and strengthens the body’s natural ability to heal. I arrived at the massage centre on a Friday afternoon, after work. I had vertigo at the time. My experience of the massage was a relaxing one, until I sat up from the bed and everything began to spin around me. I had guilelessly hoped that maybe a massage could help somehow unblock my ear; by fixing a possible related problem in my neck. The masseuse seemed shocked when I told her my story. She also told me a story, about her sister who had once had a cold, and had temporarily lost some of her hearing. Everyone seems to have a hearing loss or ear infection story to tell.

A week or so later, after seeing my GP and being given anti-inflammatories and nasal sprays, things still hadn’t improved. I went to see a physiotherapist. I told him my story. He seemed intrigued. He carried out an assessment of my body by means of manipulations and movements; testing my range of motion. He also observed my posture and I was examined for signs of abnormalities. He told me that I have a problem with the whole of the left side of my body. The physiotherapist was Spanish, but he spoke to me in English saying, “Your right side of your body can do everything. Your left side cannot.” I have seen physiotherapists before due to problems with my neck, and one of them said something similar; referring to the fact that when my left kidney was removed, it kind of unbalanced me; causing problems with my neck. My hearing loss had been on my left side. Could this all be connected? The Spanish physiotherapist also commented on my jaw and said it was not centralized. He did lots of manipulations, and although he wasn’t a miracle worker, it was good to speak with someone who actually acknowledged that the problems with the left side of my body could have contributed to my hearing loss. He also said that Spanish doctors do not know much about this area of medicine – I think he meant that specialists are often conservative in their practice and may not look at other factors surrounding a problem; rather they generally concentrate only on the issue of complaint…

Silly Deaf Moments

I am taking another pause from my story to talk about the amusements of being deaf. I am not saying that being deaf in one ear is funny; it’s not – it can be difficult and frustrating. But, if I am able to see some humour in difficult situations, surely it is much healthier than finding distress in them. This is not always easy, as everything still feels very raw to me, and I am still in the process of accepting that I now have unilateral hearing and am coping with the issues this brings. But I aim to start smiling and laughing more, and to see the funny side in what I have started to call my ‘silly deaf moments’; silly things that happen in reaction to everyday occurrences, because I am unable to hear in my left ear. So, here are a few examples of these ‘silly deaf moments’…

One of the first days after experiencing sudden sensorineural hearing loss in my left ear, I was at work and a colleague called my name. My classroom is connected to another classroom by a sliding door. When this door is open, the two rooms turn into one long classroom. I was standing in the middle of both rooms, where the sliding door is situated; talking with two other colleagues. When I heard my name, I turned around to my right, to address my friend who was calling me. Hmm, she wasn’t there. Then I proceeded to look around in confusion to try to locate my colleague. I was spinning around baffled, trying to locate my friend. After a few seconds I found her. She was standing far across the classroom from me, to my left. By the time I had realized where she was, my other colleagues were giggling at me. I started to laugh too, but I felt bewildered. Why hadn’t my colleague been to the right of me, where I thought she was? – after all, that was where I had heard her voice coming from. I later realized, that since I can only hear in my right ear, my brain now assumes that sound is always coming from my right. So, calling my name from any direction will now confuse me, and I will spend a few seconds scouting the area to identify where the voice is coming from. Oh, and if my name is called outside from across the road or street, well I don’t stand much of a chance of having any idea where you are. It would be quicker to come over to me instead! I actually thought that maybe my brain could learn to identify where noises are coming from; maybe using the tone or volume as a clue. But, after understanding my situation more, I realize that sound localization is the job of two ears, not one.

One day, I was sitting on a seat at the end of a row, on the metro. I was thinking that I could hear someone playing the accordion somewhere far down to the right of the train from where I was sitting. I was sitting and feeling relaxed as I tried to focus on the tune that was being played. I saw a woman opposite me looking at something next to me, so I turned to see what had caught her attention. I turned to my left, to where she was looking, only for me to jump up in my seat and letting out a little yelp; startled to see the accordion player was actually standing right next to me, on my deaf side!

There are moments where I fail to respond when I’ve been spoken to, because people have addressed me from my deaf side. I have been seeing a chiropractor recently (something I will talk about more in future posts) and one morning I was standing in the waiting area; waiting for my name to be called. The waiting area is a small corridor and serves a few small private practices; each one occupying a single room. It was busy, and there was a low rumble of chatting voices. As all the seats were occupied, I had positioned myself so that I was standing near my chiropractor’s door. I had waited a while, and turned around and was surprised to see my chiropractor standing there next to his door, looking a bit awkward. I hadn’t expected anyone to be there and my body jumped up slightly in surprise.  I could see his mouth moving, and as I turned so that my hearing ear was facing him, I realized he was calling my name. I have no idea how long he’d been trying to get my attention! His office was to the left of me, and so I was never going to be able to hear him call my name.

Another time where I didn’t respond was when I was in England and I went to get my eyebrows shaped. I was with my sister in a busy shopping centre in a department store. We were surrounded by a disarray of sounds. There was loud nightclub-style music playing and the sound of people talking too. I was greeted by the lady who was going to shape my eyebrows, and I sat down in the chair. My sister went to look around the shop, and so I was alone with the lady. A few seconds later I turned to my left and realized the woman was talking to me! She looked exasperated and was asking me to sit further back in the chair. I immediately shuffled back and out from my mouth the words, “I can’t hear in this ear!” burst out apologetically. In the moment I felt quite upset, but looking back now I wonder how long she had been waiting for me to move back in the chair. I wonder what she must have been thinking about me when I not only failed to respond to her instruction, but didn’t even look at her for quite some time!

One of the most ironic situations is that of waiting for an appointment with an ENT specialist in the hospital. It is a small waiting area that is usually bursting with people. When you approach the waiting area you are greeted by the loud roar of an industrial-sounding fan. In this waiting area, the sound seems to be bouncing from wall to wall; sounds of the fan, people’s words, shouting from nurses, and the slamming of consultation room doors. The patients sit on the edge of their seats. If the patients have similar struggles to me, I am guessing they are all trying desperately hard to hear the nurse when they call their name above the muddle of noises that surround them. Nobody wants to miss their name being called. Usually the wait to see a specialist is at least an hour and appointments are scarce. This is the chance to speak about issues that may be ongoing, painful, upsetting, frustrating – you don’t want to miss your name being called and miss your chance to speak with the specialist. One day an old lady asked me to tell her when her name was called. I explained to her that I too was also hearing impaired and finding it difficult to hear anything. We both agreed to tell each other if either of us thought one of our names may been called! I wonder why the ENT specialist rooms are positioned in the corridor with the fan. I wonder why they chose such a small enclosed space.  I wonder why the nurses haven’t thought of writing the next patient’s name on a piece of paper which they could then display as they shout the names; so that people with hearing impairments could read their names if they fail to hear them. Or even better, invest in a LED message sign display with the patients names displayed.

More recently, I went for lunch in a restaurant with my boyfriend.  I went to the toilet and was washing my hands. It was a small bathroom, and there were two toilets side-by-side and a sink positioned slightly in front of the entrance to one of the toilets. I was alone in the bathroom…well, so I thought. I spent some time washing my hands and looking at my teeth in the mirror. After a couple of minutes, I thought I saw something from the corner of my left eye. I turned around, and was startled to see that there was a woman watching my sink routine! The poor lady must have been in the toilet cubicle, and was now trapped in the doorway, unable to leave the cubicle because I was unwittingly blocking her way out! I hadn’t known she was in that toilet. I hadn’t heard her open the toilet door. I hadn’t heard if she had asked me to give her space to exit the cubicle. I hadn’t even acknowledged her until the moment I turned around in bemusement!

My life is now full of these ‘silly deaf moments’, and there are obviously going to be many more of them. I wonder when the next one will be, and what will happen?!