Are you a Laman or a Nephi?

A little background for my non-Mormon friends: The Book of Mormon begins with the story of a family. Lehi, the father, Sariah, the mother, and several sons: Laman, Lemuel, Sam, Nephi, and later Jacob and Joseph. Based on the prophecies and visions of Lehi, the family leaves Jerusalem around 600 B.C. and travels to the American continents. Laman and Lemuel complain constantly about the "vain imaginations" of their father and their separation from their gold and possessions back in Jerusalem. Basically, they suck. Nephi and Sam, on the other hand, are faithful and diligent in following the commandments of God. Soon after Lehi dies, the family splits: the Lamanites become a wicked and proud people who spurn the gospel of Jesus Christ while the Nephites try to live by God's covenants. The majority of the Book of Mormon tells of the wars and contentions and preachings between the Nephites and Lamanities.

I've been thinking a lot about Laman and Nephi lately.

Mostly, I've been thinking how I can totally relate to Laman and isn't Nephi just a little bit of a show-off, anyhow? Who goes through life praising the Lord for all their trials and sufferings and afflictions? No one seriously jumps up and shouts, "I'll go and do!" when asked to do the impossible.

In dealing with my hearing loss, I've waded far out into the deep end of the Laman and Lemuel pool of righteous indignation and felt quite justified in shaking my first at the Lord. I've complained. I've lost hope. I've bargained with God. I've gotten angry.

I think most of us deal with our trials in this way. I think it's one of the first steps in dealing with grief and pain and loss and affliction, even if we've been taught to be one of those annoying Nephi types who face every hard thing that comes their way with a positive attitude and trust in the Lord. Those people are insane.

Or so I thought.

What I've come to discover is that we all have a bit of Laman in us. It's in our nature. But we can also have a bit of Nephi in us too. That's in our nature as well. It just takes a lot more work to dig that person out.

So, I'm happy to say that I think I'm past my period of Laman-like complaining. I think it was a necessary step for me to go through; it isn't for everyone, but it kinda is for me. The trick, I think, in the future, is making that period as short as possible.

I've had some time to reflect on life and gain some much needed perspective and even if my hearing loss does end up being permanent, I can honestly say now that life is still pretty great. Losing an ear isn't as bad as I wanted to believe it was. I'm actually quite optimistic about my chances of improvement and I'm trying really hard to face this trial with Nephi-like levels of faith.

It just makes life easier. Besides, it's a lot of work being mad at God.


For those who have been following the saga of Liz's left ear, here's an update: I went to the audiologist and ENT today to monitor my improvement after two weeks of steroid treatment. My first hearing test 2 weeks ago revealed that I had 0% speech recognition (meaning if you said a word in my left ear, I could not repeat it back to you) and a 60 decibel range of hearing loss. Zero percent! Every single word the audiologist said, I got wrong. That still astounds me. My test today, however, showed that I have 28% speech recognition and a slightly improved hearing decibel range. There's improvement--albeit a very small improvement--but improvement nonetheless. I started round two of a steroid treatment today and am optimistic that it will help my hearing improve even more. It's true that my chances of having my hearing return to normal are pretty much non-existent, but if I can get back up to 75% speech recognition, then I would have, as my doctor calls it, "an aidable ear" and I could get a hearing aid to help recover the rest of the hearing that I've lost. (A hearing aid would be useless if I can't recognize words in the first place...it would just make all the mumblings louder. Not exactly helpful.) My doctor said most hearing improvement happens with the first three months, but it can slowly improve over the course of a year. So if my ear can improve another 25% over the next two weeks of treatment, I'll be a happy camper indeed.

My Favorite Ear

I never thought about favoring one ear over another, but I totally do....and unfortunately, my favorite ear is [was] my left ear. David rightly pointed out that that probably stems from the fact that I'm left handed. I answer my phone with my left hand and automatically hold it up to my left ear. David sleeps on my left side, so I use my left ear to hear him when we talk before bedtime. I tend to sleep on my right side, so my left ear is the one that is exposed to listen for baby cries during the night. Take away my ability to hear out of my left ear and it makes for an interesting world. Since I have this [hopefully temporary] insight into the world of the hearing-impaired, I thought I'd share a few observations:

Deafness does not mean silence. Maybe that's true for people who are completely and 100% deaf. But what deafness really means is noise; indiscernible, crackling, buzzing strings of static noise. When your ear can't hear sounds and words in their proper way, your ear produces noise anyway. There's always a constant roar of white noise in my ear....which makes hearing out of my right ear more difficult, because I have to filter out the static to understand the words people are saying to me. Crowded spaces are the absolute worst because my ear cannot filter out one noise from the other. I took Zara to Story Time at the Provo Library this week and it was 25 minutes of pure auditory torture. Though the storytellers wore microphones, I only heard about 50% of what they said, because every toddler shriek, every baby cry resonated just as loudly in my ear as did the main speakers. Normally, those background noises are filtered out, but hearing loss prevents that from happening as successfully as it should. It can be an extremely disorienting experience.

Volume is not always the solution to communication. Generally, I can hear people fine if they speak in their normal "indoor voice;" the real trouble is speed and enunciation. Speaking a little louder certainly helps, but I find that speaking clearly and deliberately makes the biggest difference.

Listening is a skill which not many people possess. I know this because I have not always been a great listener. I am a woman, therefore I multi-task. And listening was a job to be done in tandem with some other task: washing the dishes, folding the laundry, reading a book. But when you have only one ear to hear, you stop to listen. Mostly, because you're just grateful that you still can, but because listening--truly listening--involves more than just hearing. It involves looking. It involves contact. I find that I understand what is being said to me so much better when I actually watch a person speak to me. It's not just about hearing them better either. Sure, it helps to watch their mouth as they talk, but when I can truly connect with a person, I understand not just their words, but their tone, their body language, their emotions.

The good news is that I do feel that my hearing has improved somewhat in the last week. It's not as drastic a change as I had hoped for, but I can at least hear words out of my left ear now, and not just muffled Charlie Brown sounds. Sometimes I don't even notice the constant static in my ear, but other times it's beyond frustrating. The first week of my hearing loss, I slept really really well. (And thankfully Zara did too because I probably wouldn't have heard her even if she had woken up in the middle of the night.) A muffled world brings a great quietness at night which I found very comforting to sleep in. But the medication I've been taking since Monday causes insomnia so the last few nights have not gone well. (But I am getting a lot of reading done in the wee hours of the morning.)

The other perk or downside (take your pick) is that I did have to completely wean Zara of breastfeeding this week. I'd already weaned her of her daytime and pre-bedtime feedings, but I was still nursing her if she woke up in the middle of the night (for comfort) or first thing in the morning. I knew it really wasn't necessary to continue to nurse her, but since I was still willing and Zara was still interested, I just kept doing it. Even though my medication may not harm her, I really didn't want to take a chance because it does pass through the breast milk. She hasn't had breast milk since Tuesday and I'm pleased to say that she's doing just fine. Yesterday was the first day that she really seemed aggravated that she couldn't have any, but she seems to be content with lots of hugs and a sippy cup full of juice. I really didn't think Zara would ever willingly wean herself, so I'm grateful that she's taken this so well. There are all sorts of small miracles at work. I'm still holding out hope that there's a big one in store for my hearing as well.

Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss

Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss.

I had the doctor repeat those words to me several times today. That sensorineural part kept tripping me up.

And I'm a little hard of hearing these days.

What started out last Sunday as an unpleasant (though somewhat amusing) case of vertigo and a constant ringing in my left ear has led to a diagnosis of Sudden Sensorineural Hearing Loss. Meaning that I have suffered a severe loss of hearing in my left inner ear which may or may not be permanent.

At my initial visit to my family practice doctor last Monday, they cleaned out my ear, predicted that it was just a combination of wax build-up and/or fluid which would clear up on its own and sent me on my way. I had no reason to believe otherwise: I had not experienced any trauma to my ear, had not attended any loud concerts (sadly, it's been WAY too long since my last concert), and don't make a habit of working on loud construction projects. I had no reason to believe that my ringing was anything serious.

But by Thursday, when the ringing was still present and my hearing had not improved, I called my doctor for a follow-up and they recommended that I make an appointment with an ENT (ear, nose, and throat specialist). I called one of their referred doctors on Friday, and was pleased to get an appointment for today (Monday). Having dealt with military doctors for the last few years, getting an appointment so soon still amazes me. With military doctors, you have to make an appointment a month out, at least.

It was a good thing I got in so soon because SSNHL needs to be treated immediately; at least 14 days from the time of the initial hearing loss and within 30 days maximum. Otherwise, the chances of reversing the hearing loss are almost negligible. As it stands now, I have a 50% chance of having any of my hearing return, but I don't think my doctor is very confident that I'll have much return since my audiology test today showed that I've suffered significant damage. (As in, I can't hear a dang thing out of my left ear except for very low decibel sounds. I can't hear any words. I can, however, hear Suyom purring which is oddly comforting.)

The course of action now is to take a tapered dosage of steroids to hopefully ease the swelling in the nerves of my inner ear in the hope that that will prevent the hearing loss from being permanent. In two weeks, I'll visit the ENT and audiologist again to see if there's been any improvement in my hearing and I may have to continue to take more steroids for another two weeks. After that, we just have to wait and see if anything improves, but after a year, it's considered permanent. (And with this type of nerve damage, a hearing aid would be useless.)

So what was the cause? My doctor suspects that my last cold spread a viral infection to my ear which damaged the cochlea. A cold.

As my doctor said, SSNHL is just bad luck.

Bad luck, certainly. But I have the feeling that this was no accident. Whether or not the damage is permanent--and I certainly hope that it is not because being deaf in one ear is not enjoyable at all--I have felt often this week that this happened for a reason and that I have something to learn from this experience.

I just hope that that lesson can be learned in the next few weeks, and not over the rest of my life.

So friends, if you have any extra prayers or good thoughts to spare, send them toward my left ear. It would very much appreciate it.