The Half-deaf Birder

 When our wonderful summer road trip ended, there was no indication my life was about to drastically change forever. The first week back, I broke my toe on an eye-bolt on our deck. A week later, I caught a virus which attacked my auditory nerve and left me permanently deaf in one ear! It's called Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss and it was truly sudden. The first day that I started feeling better from the virus, was also the day that Hurricane Ian came thru our area. It swept a lot of birds from the coast to the lakes and fields nearby. As soon as it seemed safe enough to leave the house, we went out to see the birds. As we were driving, I realized I was hearing chimes, bing, bing, bing, like the sound of a spoon hitting a glass. When I stepped out of the car into the wind, and my friend spoke to me, I realized I couldn't hear him. I had to turn to one side to hear with my left ear. Back in the quiet car, I realized my hearing had been replaced with a loud buzzing sound, tinnitus. At first I thought it wasn't a big deal, but called an ENT the next morning 2 and they had me come in immediately. It only took a few minutes for him to narrow it down to SSHL, and give me the bad news. I was totally deaf with a profound loss of 115db (the equivalent of an ambulance siren)! The damage was permanent. Salvage therapy included high dose steroids plus steroid injections in my ear drum! Fully in denial, I left expecting the drugs to fix me. A week later, after trying everything we could, I went from completely deaf to being able to hear something if it's SUPER loud, however what I hear is a faint, robotic noise, which I'm unable to understand. This is still classified as "profoundly deaf" and "no improvement" was written across my chart. I was devastated! The inflammation also impacted my vestibular nerve, resulting in dizziness so strong that I needed a cane to walk, had to sit to go down stairs and couldn't drive for four months. Ever so slowly, my balance returned, which was a huge relief, but my hearing remained the same. Deaf. A devastating loss to anyone, but to a birder, a special kind of blow. I had spent years learning to identify birds by the sounds they make, and prided myself on not only being able to recognize the majority of our local birds, but also on my skill of locating a bird that was calling. With only one ear, localization isn't possible. Everything sounds like it's coming from the side of the good ear. 

Nothing else could be done, so I was referred to an audiologist who suggested a CROS. This is basically two hearing aids, but the one on the deaf side is just a microphone which wirelessly transmits sound to the good ear. It's nothing like actually hearing with two ears. I'm deaf. A hearing aid can't make my ear hear. The CROS does however make hearing less work and makes my interactions more normal. I definitely noticed a big change when wearing it, I don't have to ask people to constantly repeat themselves. I also found without it I was having to hold my head sideways when talking to someone to hear them which was super awkward and made me feel self-conscious. I also had to position myself on a person's right side when walking, but now I could have a conversation while walking with a friend even if they were on my bad side. All great improvements, in quiet environments. Now add a background noise or a second conversation in the room and hearing is a huge struggle again. My brain isn't able to focus on one conversation and push the rest to the background as someone with two ears does automatically. You see that's one of the reasons God gave us two ears. Just like our eyes. With one, you can't get the full 3D effect and lose depth perception. Hearing is very similar. If you lose one ear, you haven't lost 50% of your hearing, but more like 75% as you've lost the function of the ears working in conjunction as well. When I first lost my hearing, sounds were very frightening. Even a small noise could trigger a fight or flight reaction within. I didn't know what the sound was, where it was coming from or if it meant danger. My autonomic system was on high alert. Real dangers did exist too, like walking in front of a car you didn't hear behind you. 

This was a highly emotional time for me. I cried daily. For months. I didn't want to be in a restaurant or in a place with background noise. Sounds scared me. I couldn't even walk without help. I couldn't stop the persistent ringing in my ear. I couldn't enjoy my favorite hobby. I found an online support group for those with SSHL, and it was scary. People were suicidal! I was holding out hope that I would gain my hearing back and just being disappointed at every recheck appointment. Once I realized this was actually permanent, I was able to begin to accept my situation and learn to adjust. I had to learn to ignore the tinnitus and to ask for help and to know my limits when putting myself in frustrating noise situations. And finally I decided to get the CROS, a very generous gift from my dear Aunt Janie, for which I will be forever grateful. 

This experience has also given me a new compassion for those with hearing loss, especially my husband and father, who have significant hearing loss. Having to repeat myself for them was frustrating and I'll admit I didn't always hide my frustration. Now I understand just how much MORE frustrating it is for the person with the hearing loss. It's easier to pretend we hear or avoid conversation than constantly ask people to repeat themselves. 15% of the US population has hearing loss. Try to be patient and compassionate. And if you are noticing you can hear men's voices fine, but women are "too quiet, or mumble", chances are you're one of them. Go get tested. An audiologist will do it for free.

And the silver lining...because there is always one to be found. At the end of the day, I can put my good ear to the pillow and sleep better than I ever have before.