Image by ErikaWittlieb from Pixabay
I walked through the door, and the person sitting there wasn’t a doctor I recognised. I had met two specialists so far, both were younger than this one, and both had immediately lowered their masks when they addressed me. This specialist didn’t even touch her mask as she began to speak before I had even sat down. It was just supposed to be a simple check-up appointment amidst the various tests and scans I was doing as part of the cochlear implant (CI) preparation. My previous appointments had been positive experiences, and I was feeling ok about this one. I walked through the door smiling behind my mask.
The specialist looked at my most recent hearing test results and told me, “One ear is good, and one ear is bad.” After almost 7 years of living with single-sided deafness, this wasn’t a surprise to me. I told her a little about how my hearing loss was sudden and how it happened nearly 7 years ago.
“Why are you here?” She asked. “I’m here for a cochlear implant,” I answered. “And, why do you want a cochlear implant?” she questioned. My immediate response was, “To have sound in my ear again.” We were speaking in Spanish. I paused while I contemplated the best way to tell her about wanting to feel safer in my surroundings. She responded just as I started to talk, “The optimal time to get an implant is 3 years after the hearing loss. Your loss was a long time ago.” Her tone took a negative turn. This information wasn’t new to me. I knew that the sooner you are fitted with an implant after hearing loss, the better your chances of a positive outcome. But a CI for single-sided deafness just hadn’t been an option for me until now. The last specialist I saw told me that they carried out the CI procedure up to 10 years after the loss.
This new specialist told me how it might not work well and that I might “hate” the sound. She talked a lot about rehabilitation, and how I would need to plug my hearing ear so my deaf ear could focus on the sound through the implant. She said I would have to work hard. I assured her I would. “Hmmm, really?” she let out in a low tone, her eyes rolling at me from above her mask. I could feel my body tensing. Did she really just question my integrity?
So far, she hadn’t told me anything positive or anything I didn’t already know. It seemed like she was trying to talk me out of having the implant. I was worried she was going to deny me the opportunity—that she would cross me off the waiting list there and then. I felt she thought I didn’t deserve an implant. The conversation continued in this negative tone.
I was taken aback, since, in my last consultation, the specialist had recommended that I get the implant. She said that since my hearing ear is fragile (has a Meniere’s diagnosis) and because they don’t know what might happen, then a CI on my left side would be like insurance—some security in knowing that whatever happens, I will have some access to sound. She also said they could remove the implant if I wasn’t happy with it. I had nothing to lose.
The new specialist spoke a little more, telling me how it’s an important decision as it involves surgery, etc. I nodded saying I understand. “Hmm, really?” She repeated, in a low tone. By the end of the appointment, I felt judged, confused, and upset. The joy I felt for this upcoming procedure for which I had waited 7 years had been trampled all over. As I left the room, I felt my eyes swell with tears.
Maybe it was her role to interrogate people, to make sure they really want the CI and will be prepared to do all the work for it. Perhaps it’s her job to be negative. Maybe some things were lost in translation. Perhaps she didn’t agree with the decision to put me on the waiting list for the surgery. Maybe she has seen a lot of negative outcomes for patients like me and was just trying to be brutally realistic. Whose advice was I supposed to pay attention to—The positive ENT or the negative?
It’s been a few weeks since the appointment, and I’ve had time to reflect. After speaking to my partner, my emotions calmed. I understood that it is important for specialists to explain the risks of a procedure, but surely the risks should be interspersed with some positives. Though the specialist had shared her negativity, she didn’t provide me with any additional information that I hadn’t already ascertained from extensive research and communication with people who have a CI for single-sided deafness. There was no decision to be made here. I knew I wanted the implant. I am naturally a positive and determined person, and I think the feeling of negative judgment was what impacted me the most.
I have nothing to lose in my deaf ear. If I don’t try this, I will never know if a CI could be beneficial. And, if the CI doesn’t work for me, well, at least I know I’ve tried.
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