Hospital appointment

I cried today.

I had an appointment at the ENT (Ears, Nose & Throat) department of the hospital today. It was the appointment we'd been waiting for for quite a while to finally get some answers as to why I'm deaf.

This was the appointment that would tell me once and for all what the hell is going on with my ears. It was also the appointment that would determine whether or not my parents would learn BSL.

So we got there (my parents came with me), sat and waited for a bit, twiddling our thumbs until I was called. I had another hearing test. The woman started to explain what I had to do, she then saw I was wearing hearing aids and said 'I suppose you're pretty familiar with these huh?'

Just a bit! After all, this is the third hearing test I've had this year alone.

So we get started. The usual, press a button if you hear a sound. I wait. And wait. And wait some more. I'm thinking, 'oh shit! I can't hear anything! Surely by now I should be able to hear something? Has my hearing gotten that much worse?'

No, it just turns out she was chatting with one of her friends about her love life and hadn't started the test yet. Several times she stops to talk to one of her friends. But finally, we finish.

So we go to see the consultant. Who didn't have any of my records. He thought I was a new patient at the hospital. I have been a patient of that department for about 3 years now.

So far, I am not filled with confidence at their level of professionalism.

The consultant informs us that the hearing test that I had just taken was inconclusive. He implied that it was somehow my fault that the test hadn't worked. It had nothing to do with them chatting to each other and not paying attention to what they were doing. No, it was definitely my fault.

By this point a nurse has managed to track down my other hearing test results. He has a look at them and the new one. Mumbles to himself a bit, asks about my history, and eventually tells me that my hearing loss is most likely due to damages to the nerves in the inner ear, and not due to calcification of the bones as had been originally suggested.

He performs another crude test which involved him banging a tuning fork and holding it to my ear and then holding it against my head behind my ear. He asked me if I could hear this.

I look at him.

'Yes...'

He sees me looking at him strangely. Then he realises; I've still got my hearing aids in. Of course I can hear it!

So he repeats the process, this time without me wearing my hearing aids. He asked me which I could hear better - in front of my ear or against my head. The answer is in front of my ear. Which would suggest nerve damage.

Meaning; my deafness is incurable. If it does get worse, there is no operation for it.

I hadn't realised before, but I had been holding out hope. Until I had been told that there really is nothing that can be done, somewhere, in the back of my mind, the thought had always been there that if my hearing got a loss worse, I could maybe have an operation that might make me hearing again.

It wasn't much, and I didn't really believe I would ever be hearing again, but the hope, the maybe had always been there. But now that bubble has burst, and I realise that I will never again be hearing. I will be deaf for the rest of my life. I will never hear birds without my hearing aids. I will never be able to cuddle someone without first having to take my hearing aids out to avoid feedback. I will never... well, you get the picture.

I hadn't realised that I had held out this secret hope. And now it's dashed. So I felt sorry for myself and had a bit of a cry.

I've now stopped the self-pitying mode and realised life could be so much worse. I can still hear with my hearing aids. I have perfect vision. A great life. So what if I'm deaf?

The consultant also said that it's unlikely that my hearing will get worse, and if it does it will take years and years before I go completely deaf. Good news.

He has referred us to a specialist that will be able to say for certain whether my deafness is nerve damage or the bone. But at this point, I've accepted it's nerve damage. It looks highly unlikely to be bone damage.

So, this means that my hearing will most likely stay as it is for a while yet. It does mean that I will probably be in limbo (see previous entry) for quite a while yet. But you know what? It's not such a bad place to be.

You'll be glad to read that I've stopped feeling sorry for myself - after all, being deaf does have its advantages. One of them being that apparently the TV in the house that I share with uni friends makes a rather annoying high pitched noise. I can't hear it, even with my hearing aids in. It drives my housemates mad. I am blissfully unaware and enjoy watching TV without the apparent horrible noise.

Until next time,

Deaf Girl