It was late one night, whispering to her in the bedroom she
shares with her sister, asking her to move up, or roll over or some such, when she suddenly turned and looked at me with wild eyes, as if she’d not known I
was there, that I realised it.
She’d not known I was there. She’d not heard my voice. She
was deaf.
Our pediatrician recommended an audiologist but I went
straight to an ENT. Confirmation: radically deaf in both ears.
It’s probably only been a few months, I’m not allowing a
blanket excuse for some of the behaviour we’ve suffered through this year, but
a deaf little girl is not a happy little girl and I was relieved by the surge
of tenderness which welled within me. My poor baby.
So last week, sandwiched between her sister turning 6 and an
epic unicorn birthday party to celebrate this great milestone, we woke
frightfully early in the morning and stumbled off to Claremont Hospital.
She was a star. She didn’t ask for breakfast, she didn’t
protest or complain. She gave the nurses a special smile she’d prepared for the
occasion (she has a selection of smiles in her repertoire – one for me, one for
family, one for friendly car guards etc – all different), she watched wide-eyed
as the younger patients returned from theatre in tears, and when it was her
turn she lay, ever so small in her big hospital bed, as a friendly porter
wheeled her through the halls, and gently succumbed to the anaesthetic. The
only sign of her apprehension a raptor-like grip on my finger; so that even
once the rest of her was floppy and limp I had to prise my hand away.
Grommets in, adenoids out.
I lay next to her as she slowly floated to the surface back
in the children’s ward. A nurse was talking to the young boy in the furthermost
bed from ours, offering him a selection of treats from the hospital menu.
Sunday’s eyelids fluttered, she raised her head a little to
look at me and croaked, ‘Mum, did she say jelly?’
She had. I ordered some for my little hero and a while later
we trundled home.
‘I can hear Mum, I can really, really hear.’
I’ve not heard anything sweeter for a long time.
Oh my goodness!!!! Glad that you figured it out, that must have been awful. Did she have a lot of ear infections before that? My kids constantly have ear infections so this is too close to home.
ReplyDeleteShe didn't actually. A series of head colds and coughs, but not her ears. They just weren't draining at all after each cold. He was pretty sure she wasn't in pain, just deaf :(
DeleteAaaaw, eyes shot full of tears at this! We've just gone through an ear related thing as well with my little munchkin where her gummy ears were not allowing her to sleep properly. Being 15 months old, she couldn't communicate ear ache, even though she knows the sign language for an "eina". One course of penicillin and my little beach baby is sleeping through like nobody's business. Makes my heart all mushy to see her sleeping now and understanding her vulnerability and her struggle to communicate with grown ups who can't read minds. Give Sunday an extra hug just because grownups are not mind readers.
ReplyDeleteGoodness, what a frightening thing to go through. I'm confused though--did her ears just need draining/cleaning and she's ok now, or is she permanently deaf with some kind of aids put in?
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful feeling for her after, though. I felt that way when I got my glasses at age 7. I had no idea the world wasn't supposed to be so fuzzy.
CB, her ears needed draining and now with the grommets (minuscule little pipes in the ear drums) they should drain by themselves properly from now on. Grommets stay for about a year and then are naturally 'pushed out' of the ear as they grow. Thank goodness it's not a more permanent problem!
DeleteI had exactly the same problem and op as a 5 year old... Them teachers had just thought I was naughty/daydreaming. I remember being scared of getting the grommets, and annoyed/embarrassed to have to put prestik in my ears to swim, but it was SUCH a relief to be able to be attentive and get shouted at less! Enjoy the sounds, little S... xx
ReplyDeleteAnd these days one can swim the next day! Thank god technology's evolved.
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