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CHAPTER 5
My next appointment was the only luxury that I had to look forward to. That
was the day when it would all happen - the day when my consultant would
suddenly apologize having realised that he had forgotten to put the plug in or
take it out or discover some other minor oversight. He had certainly
forgotten to do something because when the day arrived I did not go alone; the
noise came with me.
Two of the people sitting in the waiting room were chatting happily. A young
man was telling his lady friend about the restaurant that he would be taking
her to that night and she was clearly very pleased. I sat there thinking 'Why
don't they shut up. What are they doing here anyway?' I had become a full
member of the system. I had joined the morbid brigade.
I felt a little apprehensive as I walked into my consultant’s office. He
looked in fine shape now that he was wearing his fifth eye again. He
immediately wanted to examine my nose, which I suppose was a logical thing to
do, having recently operated on it.
I would find it quite impossible to express how happy I felt when he started
to rave over the success of the operation. The man was thrilled. He was over
the moon. Everything had gone according to plan and could not be better. Not
wishing to dampen his enthusiasm or ruin his obvious pleasure I thought I
would risk mentioning that I still had the same degree of noise as before. I
did so, rather matter-of-factly I thought, even nonchalantly. He was able to
match my nonchalance with enviable ease. He brushed aside my reference to the
noise with a dexterity, which still amazes me.
He held up a forefinger and said 'Ah but I bet the breathing is a lot better
isn't it?'.
I detected a slight hurt in his eyes when I pointed out that I had not had any
bother breathing in the first place.
He looked at me over his half glasses and under his fifth eye and said 'Ah but
you would have. Those polyps were the biggest I have seen in a long time.
They won't give you any bother now though'. He said this with tremendous
enthusiasm as if it were a major achievement and as if I should be jumping for
joy.
I have never received any accolades for my level of patience. In fact, I have
an unusually low boredom threshold. I was practically there. I said 'That's
terrific. I'm really glad that you have managed to cure a breathing problem
that I didn't have. That is undoubtedly a real bonus but do you think we
could devote just a little time to discussing the problem that I have here and
now. You know, the noise in my ears?’
With a hint of impatience he took a large notepad out of a drawer and beckoned
me to come closer to watch him draw an ear. If I had commissioned a portrait
of my ear I would not have been disappointed. I would love my ears to look
like that. It was beautiful and it seemed to have a character of its own. I
began to understand why it takes so long to become a consultant. It must take
years of solid graft to learn how to draw an ear like that. This was clearly
his piece de resistance and was accompanied by a graphic description.
I was then taken into a room to have my tinnitus noise level assessed. The
test result gave birth to the most devastating news. My tinnitus was severe
[as if I didn't know that] and the only help he could offer me was a 'masking'
device and counselling. I was completely shattered by the news. I felt weak
and my brain was in a whirl. Did this really mean that there was no hope? or
just that he did not have the knowledge or the equipment to help me. Perhaps
he was out of his depth and had not realised the extent of the problem he had
taken on. It is possible he thought that he knew enough and the money was
good so he took a chance.
Maybe I was being unfair and irrational but time after time my hopes had been
dashed only to be rekindled again. I had always been led to believe that I
would be cured. I had suffered; my wife and children had suffered. Seeing me
like this had not been easy for them. This news would be as much of a blow to
them as it had been to me. Having to watch someone you love live in constant
torment is not an easy cross to bear. I should have been told the truth from
the outset. Whilst the news would have been just as bad it would have been
less cruel than keeping up the pretence that I would be cured. To this day I
do not believe that my nose operation was really necessary. I believe it was
for the benefit of his wallet rather than my well being. I have it on good
authority that such things do happen.
A whole myriad of thoughts were racing round my brain. Somewhere in the
background I could hear him talking about me going somewhere to get measured
for the masking device and giving me a telephone number for counseling. He was
so cold and dispassionate that I could have cheerfully smacked him in the
mouth.
I heard myself telling him he could keep his masking device and his
counselling. I felt a lot of animosity towards him and quickly got up to walk
out. As I reached the door he said somewhat smugly 'you are making a big
mistake. When you change your mind you know where to contact me'.
It took a supreme effort for me not to change my mind there and then and he
will never know how close he came to getting that smack in the mouth.
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