WHEN IT ALL WENT WRONG

"Hear ye not the hum of mighty workings?" 

~  John Keats  ~   

I have to agree with that!

Some people describe their journey as starting at the bottom of a hill that turned out to be a mountain by the time they had climbed it. I started at the top of the hill and rolled down like I did when I first learnt to ride my friend's bike. It had no tyres, so in was very bumpy, the handlebars were loose, so I was not in control of the steering and the the slope was a long road with a hard surface. I fell off frequently and grazed my knees. I bumped my head, but gradually I got the hang of it until I could stay on all the way down. Just an odd wobble, here and there, but I got to the end. Only to find that then I had to cross the busy road, turn the corner and all with no brakes. When my grandfather did this in his day he hit the back of the local bus at the bus-stop outside the pub around a blind corner in the village.
That is probably how I will feel in a few weeks time! At least I know where it's parked.

So, back to the top of the hill ~ 
This week is all about me and then we get on to the good stuff.

I was living in London in the late 1970s, a comfortable contented life, working long hours as a hospital Anaesthetic Technician. I was involved with orthopaedic surgery during the daytime and did accident and emergency shifts at night. I had my own car, a large rented bedsit and acquired a City & Guilds Certificate in Adult Education which was to give me promotion to Senior Technician. I was responsible for the anaesthetic practical experience for all grades of non-medical Operating Theatre Staff in training.

I was a single young man of twenty-five not thinking much about the future. Then I suffered a severe and painful ear infection one weekend. It was easily contained with antibiotics given to me by my GP. She was at the end of my road with a Saturday morning drop in appointment (those were the days!). My hearing never returned to normal afterwards, or what I thought had been normal. My GP made a referral for me and I attended the hospital I was working in. One of the perks for NHS staff health workers in those days was fast-track appointments and senior consultant assessments. I had the close attention of an ENT research doctor that I already knew. In return for my privileges in that modern teaching hospital, I had to be examined by twelve medical students in turn as well. My ear may not have been sore when I went in but it was when I came out!

After an age of close-up inspections and a question and answer session, no one knew what the problem was for certain. ‘Glue ear’ was the favourite I knew what that was, I had been holding down reluctant screaming children with that very same problem for years previously as an anaesthetic technician on ENT operating lists. I didn’t think it was an adult thing at all. The doctor took off his expensive watch and held it to my ear and said “can you hear it ticking?” I said “No!” and nor have I heard one since.

Then the consultant looked in my ear and within twenty seconds pronounced I had a classic ‘flamingo flush’!

Cue everyone (now knowing what to look for) having another go. Then they all disappeared, presumably to go and assault another poor victim, and left me to hear the implications of this verdict.

I had otosclerosis. The beginnings of furred-up middle ear bones that would make me progressively deafer through my lifetime at an unknown speed and progress that could only be assessed regularly and dealt with as it presented on the day. The infection, it seems, had merely brought it to my attention more quickly so I would have been there eventually anyway. I have since learnt that the last person to know someone is deaf is the person themselves and there are clues to look for. 

More about that on another day, this part is about me.

The deafness was not bad but now I knew I had it, it seemed obvious. It made me uncertain of what I was hearing when the week before I was so confident. It was ‘all in the mind’, but over the years since I have found that many more hearing problems are ‘in my brain’!

After a few months of increasing awareness of my deafness I went off to be fitted with my first hearing aid. I collected it from the same RNTNE Hospital I am now being treated by.


The Audiology Technician told me I probably would find King’ Cross, London, a bit noisy in the afternoon with all the traffic. I may only manage twenty minutes or so before switching it off and trying again later.

He wasn’t kidding, I managed about eight and went home with a huge headache!