DING! DONG! The Witch is Deaf!

Last week I blogged a little about my frustrations with bus drivers failing to notify me visually when we were about to approach my bus stop. If you missed that, I'll recap a little. I always tell bus drivers I'm "deaf "or "very, very hard-of-hearing" when I board. They always assure me they will let me know when my stop is approaching, then they don't. I had been dreading this bus ride to the neurologist ever since I made the appointment last month. Thought I would update you.

Several of you suggested writing a note, and I thought that was a great idea. I'm not really all that bus savvy because I don't ride the bus on a regular basis. Except for the opera and other special events, I avoid Seattle whenever possible, and usually someone else drives. BUT-- I had to write down all the stops, route numbers, streets, transfers, and alternative schedules on a piece of paper anyway. So I flashed this at the bus driver when boarding, while announcing I was deaf, or "practically deaf" at the same time.

Using the modifier 'practically' in front of the word 'deaf' helps hearing people to understand why I can speak even though I'm deaf. It's like saying, "I'm not really Deaf, I'm just merely deaf." A song from the Wizard of Oz, "Ding Dong the Witch is Dead" plays in the back of my mind whenever I utter these words -- the line the coroner sings when he pronounces the wicked witch deceased,

"As Coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her. And she is not just merely deaf, she's really most sincerely deaf!"

Then the Munchkins chime in with their chorus-- "Ding dong the witch is dead! Lalalalala- lalala- lalala lalalalala-la-LA!LA!" This is really true! That's how my mind works.

So I rode on the bus to the Emerald City with Oz songs playing in my head. Did y'all know that's Seattle's nickname? Emerald City!

I knew where I was getting off the first time. The second driver was great. He simply said it would be the second stop after we got downtown, so I didn't need anything further from him. The third bus driver said he would tell me when it was my stop, but it turned out to be a long drive and I began to get nervous after a time. I asked a woman next to me to let me know when my stop was coming up, then she had to get off. As more and more people got up to leave, I was able to move forward. Finally I found a seat close enough to the bus driver to see his lips. When he got to my stop, I saw him announce it. I was just getting my stuff together when he turned, pointed, and nodded at me. I was surprised he didn't forget. The ride back went about the same with me telling the drivers, pointing to my list of routes and streets, and trying to sit in a spot where I could read the drivers' lips. One time a passenger over heard me tell the driver I was practically deaf. When we got into the right part of town, he told me my stop was coming up before the driver announced it. So all went well.

NOW-- the OTHER thing I wanted to mention. . . I don't know if this happens to many of you, but whenever I see a new doctor he or she always wants to know about my idiopathic hearing loss of course. It seems whatever is wrong with me, they feel it might somehow be related to my loss of hearing. There have been times I've been visiting the gynecologist and had to explain the hearing loss in great detail, as if that might have something to do with my vagina. It doesn't!! My hearing loss also has nothing to do with my teeth, eyes or moles that need to be removed. But it doesn't matter. Every doctor always wants to know all the fascinating details, and then I can see the gears turning. . . Next they wonder if my hearing loss has something to do with the other aches and pains in my body. When I explain I have had a progressive hearing loss since childhood, they want to know WHY. The appointment ends up being about my hearing loss and not the thing I went there for.

No one knows for sure WHY. This is not all that uncommon with hearing loss. That's why there's a name for it -- "idiopathic" -- which means the cause is unknown. I have been to several specialists over the years who have come up theories-- the most common being that it was caused by the measles when I was young. "Measles" is only a theory, not fact, because the hearing loss could have been caused by some other auto-immune disease, or maybe even drugs given to me when I was sick. No one knows. While I realize most lay people might find the concept of "unknown cause" unsettling, I should think a doctor would understand. Yet, time after time I find myself explaining to doctors how it is that I have a hearing loss of unknown causes.

And even STILL-- after all that -- the doctor wants to know who is currently "treating" my hearing loss NOW-- as if there's something to treat. How can an otolaryngologist "treat" a hearing loss if there's no known cause? Also, last I heard there was no treatment for permanent hearing loss. Most doctors must know that, right? So what is there to treat????

This whole line of questioning leaves me baffled, and it's another reason I hate to see new doctors. Last week's visit to the neurologist was no different. Because, as usual, I explained all that, then he looked at me askance repeating skeptically, "So! You have a hearing loss, but no one knows why?"

Me-- "That's right." (Oz tunes beginning again. . .Lalalalala- lalala- lalala lalalalala-la-LA!LA!)

I mentioned names of otolaryngologists I've seen in the past, and that seemed to satisfy for the time being, but honestly I haven't seen a doctor specifically about my hearing loss in quite awhile--except for the one who tested me for the cochlear hybrid last November and that was no more than an audiology exam and consult. He isn't "treating me."

Here are the lyrics to the song playing through my head on the bus ride--


Munchkins: Ding Dong! The Witch is dead. Which old Witch? The Wicked Witch!

Ding Dong! The Wicked Witch is dead.

Wake up - sleepy head, rub your eyes, get out of bed.

Wake up, the Wicked Witch is dead.

She's gone where the goblins go, Below - below - below.

Yo-ho, let's open up and sing and ring the bells out.

Ding Dong' the merry-oh, sing it high, sing it low. Let them know The Wicked Witch is dead!

Mayor: As Mayor of the Munchkin City, In the County of the Land of Oz, I welcome you most regally.

Barrister: But we've got to verify it legally, to see

Mayor: To see?

Barrister: If she

Mayor: If she?

Barrister: Is morally, ethic'lly

Father No.1: Spiritually, physically

Father No. 2: Positively, absolutely

Munchkins: Undeniably and reliably Dead

Coroner: As Coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her. And she's not only merely dead, she's really most sincerely dead.

Mayor: Then this is a day of Independence For all the Munchkins and their descendants

Barrister: If any.

Mayor: Yes, let the joyous news be spread The wicked Old Witch at last id dead!