Arriving at the ENT department in the hospital was an isolating experience. No-one around me was even remotely close in age, the TV had the subtitles displayed and I never felt more desperate to find a cure.
Before seeing the consultant I needed to have a hearing test to clarify the disparity between the two ears. By this time I hadn't heard anything through my right ear for eight days - the audiologist didn't seem to appreciate this. She berated me for not pressing the button when sounds were being played through my right ear. I tried to explain that I couldn't hear anything, but she was under the impression that because I flinched I could hear. My brain had been interpreting sound as pain for a number of days, if someone spoke directly into that ear, loud sounds, etc. She told me to press when I was in pain. I wasn't happy about this as I thought it would give an inaccurate reading as to my hearing levels, but I complied. When I spoke to the consultant I explained the situation to him and he understood.
Sadly, he then told me that I had not been put on steroids quick enough and that I may never regain my hearing, but it could take up to two years to fully assess the damage. An MRI might give me more answers so sent me on my way to their department. Having been on an MRI waiting list before for three months, I was disheartened by how long this appeared to be dragging out, but low and behold they had just had a cancellation for two days time!
I've never been good with small spaces. The thought of being enclosed goes beyond mere claustrophobia. I have a genuine fear of being put into a coffin - taphophobia - which causes my throat to close at the thought (that Kill Bill Vol. 2 scene is literally my worst nightmare and my family have been told never to put me in one when the time comes). Having had two MRIs and a CT scan previously, I would say this is a very close second for producing anxiety and fear. The noise, which I knew was going to be loud, added another level to the pain I was experiencing and it all got a bit too much. I remained in there for as long as needed (it was only ten minutes, but felt like an hour) and came out feeling very dizzy and unsteady on my feet..
Another month went by before I was called back in to clinic for another hearing test and to hear the results of the MRI. The hearing test revealed I'd lost approximately 80% of my hearing. The only frequency I could detect within the normal range of hearing was at the lowest hertz detectable to the human ear. I'd completely lost all hearing within the frequency range where speech resonates. This was expected - I couldn't hear people talking when stood to the right of me; devastating - I felt that I'd be through a rapid aging process, way before my time and with no warning or time to adjust; and encouraging - I regained 20% from being completely stone deaf throughout the first 10 days.
As for the MRI, everything was normal. No lesions, no tumour - I'd convinced myself, thanks to Dr Google, that I had an acoustic neuroma due to having facial numbness and altered sensation on the right side of my face and neck - no reason for the sudden sensory hearing loss could be found. Best guess was that I'd had a virus or mini-stroke that had restricted the blood supply to my cochlea and resulted in the deafness. The tinnitus is my brain's way of trying to compensate for the lack of stimulus caused by the deafness.
The cure? There isn't one.
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