From a Quiet World

IT WAS early, about five o’clock in the morning. My husband, Basil, and I were cozy under the covers when he nudged me and said in a stage whisper, “Honey, it’s raining.” How I just loved to lie in bed and listen to the gentle patter of rain against the house! But for eight years, Basil had had to tell me when it was raining because I couldn’t hear it. This time it was different, however. I sat suddenly upright. I could hear it! For the first time in years, I could hear that beautiful sound!

This was not my first encounter with old familiar sounds I hadn’t heard in years. The previous week had been filled with a symphony of sounds​—the purring of a furnace fan spinning, the persistent hum of a telephone dial tone, the gentle tapping of my own feet walking across the kitchen floor. These sounds, so commonplace to most people, were music to my ears. My hearing was restored! Let me tell you my story.

Early Diagnosis

Young and dedicated, I embarked on my career as a full-time Bible teacher in 1958. Now, 30 years later, I am still continuing in the same course. Early in the 1970’s, as Basil and I were helping people gain spiritual sight and unstop ears deaf to the wonderful truths in God’s Word, my own physical hearing turned annoyingly dull.

In 1977 I contacted a doctor in San Pedro, California, who introduced me to the word “otosclerosis.” He said that it was a common hereditary disease and that an operation could improve my hearing. But after he told me the possible side effects of the operation, I walked out of his office, telling myself smugly: ‘Not me! Things like that don’t happen to me.’

Entering My Quiet World

During the next three years, I began to slip slowly into a soft, quiet world​—a world void of any background noise. People seemed to sneak up on me from behind and suddenly appear. The familiar put-put of my husband’s car pulling up in the driveway was gone; suddenly he too would appear in the house, scaring me out of my wits! When people spoke and I couldn’t see their lips, it annoyed me because the sound of their voice seemed to come from the wrong direction. I found myself intently watching their facial expressions after they spoke to make sure I hadn’t responded in the wrong way. If I was chewing food, I had to stop in order to hear conversation. The worst thing was the aggravation and almost dread I felt when conducting Bible studies with soft-voiced students, for I couldn’t always understand their comments. I felt worn-out​—exhausted—​after just one hour.

A turning point came in 1980 when I was invited by the Watchtower Society to attend the Pioneer Service School​—an intensive two-week course in Bible instruction. I had waited several years for this privilege, but if I couldn’t hear distinctly, I wouldn’t now be able to benefit from the school. It was then that I decided to get another medical opinion.

At the doctor’s office, I this time found myself sitting in front of a tall, sandy-haired otologist. He had a kind face and an approachable manner. “I agree with the San Pedro doctor,” he said. “You have otosclerosis.” I began to feel confidence in him because he listened to my questions and made sure he understood what I was asking before he answered. He was a listener! He took time to explain what otosclerosis is and gave me literature to read. Since he seemed to care, I felt at ease.

Otosclerosis​—What Is It?

The words oto (Greek for “ear”) and sclerosis (Greek for “hardening”) gave me a clue to what was happening in my ear. Have you heard about the tiny bones in the middle ear​—the hammer, the anvil, and the stirrup? Perhaps like me you have been unconcerned about these small structures, and yet we depend on them for so much. It wasn’t until I was personally affected that I learned their proper names​—malleus, incus, and stapes. The stapes (or stirrup) is the final link in the middle-ear transducer chain. Usually, otosclerosis spreads to the stapes, and as the bone hardens, the vibrations it transfers to the fluid of the inner ear become less and less intense, resulting in a conductive hearing loss. Stapedial otosclerosis is one type of conductive hearing impairment that is usually correctable by surgery.

One of the first things I learned was what is meant by a conductive hearing impairment. Simply, it means that sounds are not conducted through the middle ear because of some condition that blocks them out. But if there still is good nerve function, then one is a good candidate for surgery. Happily, I had good nerve function.

Removing the Stapes

I had imagined that all would be quiet during the stapes operation, but just the opposite happened. Under local anesthesia, I heard loud noises as the doctor, using a microscope and working through the ear canal, removed the stapes and replaced it with a wire prosthesis. Then, abruptly, while still on the operating table, I heard a voice clear as a bell​—the doctor speaking to his nurse. Next, he asked me: “How is that?” “I can hear everything!” I blurted out. He warned me, though, that soon my hearing would regress because of swelling in the ear and that it might be a few weeks before hearing improvement would again be apparent.

Before the doctor left the operating room, he handed me my stapes in a little plastic container. I was astounded. So tiny! I reflected momentarily on how great Jehovah God is to make such tiny but important things. I remembered the psalmist’s words: “My bones were not hidden from you when I was made in secret . . . Your eyes saw even the embryo of me, and in your book all its parts were down in writing.” Yes, even this little stapes, the smallest bone in the human body, was taken into account in the womb.​—Psalm 139:15, 16.

The ability to hear and communicate well is a wonderful gift from our Creator. To lose that ability is indeed a great loss. To gain it back after losing it is an even greater thrill. How thankful I am for being able to leave my quiet world!​—As told by Bette E. Sterrett.

[Box on page 19]

Have You Heard?

Have you heard of the following developments in the treatment of deafness?

◼ Ménière’s disease, an inner-ear ailment that entails severe balance problems and eventual deafness, is now being treated surgically with the insertion of a shunt tube, developed by Dr. William House and the House Ear Institute in Los Angeles.

◼ For those profoundly deaf, hope may lie with what is being done with cochlear implants. The implant consists of a tiny electronic device surgically implanted in the ear. It is activated by a microphone and speech processor worn on the body. These devices turn sound waves into electrical current. Through the implant, the current stimulates auditory nerve fibers to transmit messages to the brain, which in turn recognizes these stimulations as sound. Thus, the implant patient is taken out of a world of silence into a world of sound. Though obtaining only very limited speech discrimination, the patient is nevertheless put in touch with his environment. It helps him to communicate, to distinguish environmental sounds, and to control his own voice. So far, approximately 400 patients have had some form of cochlear implant. The future appears bright for even greater improvements using the implant.

[Box on page 20]

How to Communicate With a Person Whose Hearing Is Impaireda

◼ Start by telling the person the subject of your message and follow up with a written note for especially important points.

◼ Speak clearly and a bit slower but in a normal tone of voice.

◼ Talk facing the person, preferably with your face in bright light.

◼ Do not chew or put your hands on your face while talking

◼ Avoid talking from another room or over avoidable background noise, such as running water.

[Footnotes]

[Diagrams on page 21]

(For fully formatted text, see publication)

The Stapes Operation

Step 1: stapes otosclerosis

Step 2: stapes removed

Step 3: wire replacing stapes