Struggling with Tinnitus

The first hint I had that something was wrong with my hearing was during a long phone conversation. I unwittingly transferred the receiver from my usual left to right ear. Damn, there was a drastic drop in the pitch and the voice from the other end appeared faint and distant.

Not able to carry on the conversation, I switched the receiver back to my left and Wow! my hearing was back and clear. This left me with little doubt that everything was not normal with my right ear.

My friends and family goaded me to see a doctor. Reluctantly I went to see an ENT (ear, nose, throat) doc. An audiogram was taken and it revealed severe hearing loss in my right ear, whereas the left one was spared with high frequency hearing loss. The reason for my impaired hearing, I was told by the doctor, was as the result of the hardening of my stapes bone located in my inner ear, which prevented external sound waves from entering the ear. In medical parlance this is known as otosclerosis and only stapedectomy surgery would restore my hearing.

The surgery would replace the stapes bone with Teflon implanted in my ear. The very thought of undergoing surgery sent shudders down my spine and the prohibitive cost involved in carrying it out made things even worse. Ultimately, it was my Medi-claim insurance policy that came to my rescue and that settled the burden of surgery cost.

As I was being wheeled to the operation table a sense of impeding doom loomed over me. After the surgery, when I regained consciousness, I saw blurry faces inclined towards me and the walls never ceased spinning. It took some time to recover from the post operation hangover. The result of the surgery indicated a big improvement in the hearing graph as shown in the audiogram.

I went back home still feeling dazed and was eager to try out my Teflon implanted ear. I could barely find any noticeable change in my hearing and on the contrary as days and months passed by I was cocking hard to hear. There was a gradual deterioration in my hearing. Then one Sunday morning, while I was working on my computer, I sensed a faint ringing emanating from inside my operated ear. It must be my imagination, I reckoned, and waited patiently for the ringing to disappear.

However, it persisted the whole evening and made me sit up in bed all night. I waited and waited for the ringing to end, but it refused to disappear. The next day morning I rushed to an ENT doctor. To my dismay, he declared that my operated ear was as good as dead and my ringing is a symptom called tinnitus, which medical science has yet to find cure for.

That was a bombshell. He prescribed some tablets, which were nothing but tranquillizers to calm my rampaging nerves. The days that followed were most agonizing and trauma-filled. My ear bellowed relentlessly, showing no sign of abating. It varied with intensity and tone. Sometimes it sounded like water rippling down a stream and other times like a whistle blowing off the lid on a pressure cooker.

The paradox was that I couldn't even grieve over my misfortune because any amount of stress would increase the ringing. In the pin-drop silence of the night when the whole world slept, I would remain awake struggling to shut my mind off the ringing. Besides the ringing, I also had to cope with my hearing loss. Listening became a painstaking exercise.

Most of the time, I would simply nod my head without making heads or tails of what I heard. Remaining mum was sensible to avoid embarrassment and hence becoming a laughingstock. Ironically, the whole world was going global and boasted of faster and easier communication, but for me my world was slowly closing in on me.

I saw my ringing having complete sway over me and my life drifting away. Then one day I resolved to fight it out. The first thing I did was to give up tranquilizers before I became dependent on them. I plunged into my work and stood up to my shortcomings. During my trying moments, I sought solace in writing, reading, and photography. I took to yoga and meditation, which helped me retain my mental balance.

"You live only once, so why not make the best of it?" I keep saying when I am laid down with the high ringing. I attempt to make others laugh and in the process snatch some laughter. Helping others wherever it is possible and not expecting anything in return, these are some of the goals I have set out in life. And the biggest difference I made was the realization that the ringing in my ears is going to stay with me till my end whether I like it or not, so why not accept it and make it my companion.

Three years have passed since I was affected with tinnitus and lost hearing in my one ear. I have come a long way since then leading a simple, limited, and cerebral life. My ringing, like my inner soul, I keep to myself