If audiologist Gabe Bargen knew I said this, she would
probably whack me, but she is so darn busy this week, chances are she’ll never
get around to reading this so I think I am safe. So here goes - - - I would never
have imagined that one of the most emotional places to be on this trip would be
the audiology clinic, but it is. I camped out today in the corner of one of
their tiny exam rooms while our skilled audiology team screened, tested, fit
and distributed 28 hearing aids to patients ranging in age from age 6 to 86. The day started with beautiful and shy
Arlin. She and her
mother traveled an hour and a half by bus from the coastal town of Escuinta to
come to our clinic at the Obras. At six years of age Arlin suffers from
moderate to severe hearing loss in both of her ears. Consequently, a child who
should have a vocabulary of hundreds of words has only six.
According to her mother, the little
girl also has a cousin who is deaf, so audiologist Teresa Kennalley thinks it’s
most likely a hereditary condition. Our volunteers saw Arlin last year, but at
the time she was young enough that it was difficult to get her to respond
accurately to the hearing test and get a good reading. This year, she got it!
With earphones on her head she placed a colorful eraser in a bowl each time she
heard something. By the end of her test, the bowl was almost full and Arlin was
able to return home with hearing aids for both ears. Hopefully she will return
next year with much more to say!
Next up was 86 year-old Salvadore. Neatly dressed and
soft-spoken, I was immediately drawn to him. Through the translation skills of
17 year-old Nicolas Burford, Salvadore explained that his hearing had
progressively gotten worse over the past few years. It was now so bad that he
could no longer hear his grandchildren’s voices. It was obvious to all of us in
the room how important it was that he be able to hear them, but at the same
time he seemed a little uncomfortable asking for our help. When Gabe asked him
if he would like to be fitted with a hearing aid his reply was, “If it is
convenient.” In a day and age when so many people appear to feel entitled to
nearly everything,
there was something about Salvadore’s genuine appreciation
that warmed my heart. Salvadore walked out of the clinic with a new hearing
aid, a year’s worth of batteries and a smile on his face. I can only imagine
that smile when he arrived home to the voices of his grandchildren!
About mid-morning I took a break for a Coca-Cola Light and as I walked by the line of people waiting to be
seen a young man stood out to me. I am not really sure why, I think it was just
because he looked, well, sad. When I returned 15 minutes later Sophia Burford
alerted to me to a case I might be interested in sitting in on. It was a 32
year-old man by the name of Amner Adrel Miranda Gonzalez. Four years ago, while
working as a police officer, Amner was shot in the head. Since that time he
told Sophia, he was not able to hear much at all. (NOTE: Our doctors believe this was due to either an over-zealous surgeon who created more damage or an excessive dosing of antibiotics which killed his hearing.) I walked into the hearing
room to find the sad young man I had seen in line. He was sitting with his head
hung low, waiting to be tested. Again, through Nicolas’ I learned that since
the shooting Amner could not hold a job and was selling pencils on the
street
to support himself. His friend, an older motherly type, accompanied him to help
with the process. With rent being the equivalent $40 a month there were many times lately when he had very
little, if any money left for food. But what he had plenty of was hope, hope in
the American doctors. “I am so very excited,” Amner explained. “I have been
telling everybody that I was coming here and then I would be able to hear and
work again. I have been praying so hard.” Nicolas instructed that when he heard
something, he needed to raise his hand. We all held our breaths as Sam
Gillespie, audiology student at KU Med, slipped the headphones on Amner and
started the test. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Sam stopped and asked Nicolas to
ask him if he heard anything he said no. Amner could tell by looks on our faces
that this wasn’t good, so he began to explain, “I hear some noises, some
sounds. I hear thunder.” The headphones went on again – still nothing. The
headphones came off. Sam had Nicolas ask him another question, this time with a
sheet of paper in front of his mouth. He didn’t answer. Nicolas asked louder.
Still
no answer; no reaction. It was now obvious that Amner could hear nothing at
all. He had been reading Nicolas’ lips. But he still protested, “I hear
thunder.” Sam explained to us that he was not hearing thunder, he was feeling
it – feeling the vibration and wanting to believe it was sound. Just to be
sure, Sam tried another test and again, nothing. We all stood and looked at one
another, dreading the inevitable. It was like the elephant in the room. Finally
Sam said it out loud -what we knew in our hearts. “There is nothing we can do.”
So 17 year-old Nicolas had the task of telling Amner that today was not his day;
he was not going to hear. Amner’s eyes welled a bit, but he took the news with
courage and grace. For someone who had every right to be bitter, you could tell
that deep inside that he still had faith, faith that maybe a miracle might
still someday happen and he will hear. And because of his faith, there is a
part of me that believes that too.
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