CT

Inside the Imaging Tube

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Part VI
After the 20 minute hold on the gurney, I transitioned to standing. The medicine slowly flowed down the eustachian tube into my throat, leaving a mildly unpleasant taste. I needed to make several follow-up appointments for more injections while testing for hearing improvement from the audiologist. The otolaryngology department kindly printed the entire monthly calendar, showing my six upcoming appointments.

The doctor, by protocol, also needed to screen for other possible reasons for my SSHL: a brain tumor or vascular constriction of some sort. My medical imaging came in-between the office visits. 1st came the MRI of the head and neck followed by a CT of the same region. I did not delve to deep into the possible outcomes of the scans, as anything is possible when it comes to the brain.

I had my MRI scan on a Saturday afternoon at a 24 hour hospital. I gave blood to check for a certain kidney function tolerance to the contrast agent used to explore my cerebrum. Lurking around the eight cranial nerve might be an acoustic neuroma, a benign tumor compressing the hearing nerve. I only thought of my breathing in the MRI tube, as with constant pulsing tinnitus, I felt like my brain might implode as the magnets slowly imaged my head. After four passes, the technician asked me to dress. Modern medicine is so compartmentalized, that even with the radiologist right in front of me, I got the standard answer, “Wait for the results from your doctor.”

In less than 48 hours my doctor forwarded me the radiologist report: “No significant abnormality.”

Needles of Sound in the Ear

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Part III
After seeing my audiogram, I instantly recognized that the pulsitile tinnitus could not be my main problem, but a symptom of something greater. What could come next? Internet searches on hearing loss and tinnitus brought up a myriad of responses from quack cures, health related bulletin boards, and medical journals. I would spend the next two weeks concentrating on the other note scribbled on the audiogram form, “SHL.”

The tears started to flow spontaneously, as one of my great joys in life was the phenomenon of hearing, especially surround and stereo sound mixes. I had purchased hundreds of libraries of sounds recorded to Compact Disc, Apple iTunes, amazon.com Music, and Google Play tracks. I had dual sophisticated 2.1 and 5.1 channel home theaters with Nakamichi and Yamaha Receivers with Vandersteen and all identical JBL speakers, including the surrounds. I had conditioned AC power and speaker cables the size of bananas with perfect copper single crystal conductors. I only ripped my CD library to the highest bitrate possible MP3 or AAC files, since I could hear the difference between the compressed format and original. I did not make it out to the symphony that often, but when I did, I relished in the instruments creating sound without amplification. I would consider myself a sound snob.

I stopped listening to CD’s, the radio, traveling in crowds, visiting stores with canned music soundtracks, and sought the silence of my crawlspace. In the 22″ cramped cold space between the ground and the raised floor, all I could hear was my damn brain’s gushing blood flow through who knows what artery or vein. I was alone in my own personal maelstrom, with no one to share its agony.

The audiologist referred me to see an otolaryngologist, to see if my problem could be medically related. My appointment would not be for another week. I now had some information, and all the possible illnesses were not good but included Ménière’s disease, acoustic neuroma, or hereditary deafness. I needed more information, and surely our advanced medical arsenal would proffer a solution.