Entries Tagged 'Hearing Loss' ↓

On this very rainy afternoon, I swooped into the school’s office to find my sweet boy waiting patiently with his backpack amongst the other children being picked up for various doctor appointments or raging fevers. He giggled when he saw me and off we went to the ENT, along with a snoring two year old strapped into his car seat. After hearing some mixed messages these past weeks about my son’s hearing, I was anxious to find another opinion and to get to the bottom of it all.

The ENT’s office was efficient and, within minutes of arriving, paying our co-pay and submitting our paperwork, I was sitting across from the ENT herself. She was smart (I could just tell she was), she had a dry sense of humor and a kind, approachable personality. While clearly not one to be condescending to her young patients, she was also not one to shy from the facts with the parents either. We took the time to go through his history in detail. And then with a half smile and a calming approach, she examined my son’s ears.

“Well. Fluid wouldn’t cause this kind of loss, I’m afraid.” Yes, she did see some fluid but not enough to warrant the sort of loss he is experiencing. She went on to explain the test results to me. There are two sorts of reasons for  hearing loss. In layman terms (because I really don’t know any other sort of terms yet), loss can be a result of either something external which affects the conduction of sound (fluid in ear, wax, ear drum issues) or the loss is a result of the nerve not transmitting the sounds accurately. The audiologist had tested for both sorts of loss in his left ear. To test the nerve itself, she had measured his hearing through the bone. And since both tests in the left ear showed the same results, it is likely his loss is a neural issue. To that end, some inner ear fluid would not affect the neural test either.

So what does that mean? This sort of loss is permanent. And yes, there is a chance it could get worse.

The good news? His other ear is a rock star. She said that because we (parents and teachers)  have not noticed any loss before this, his right ear is probably doing an amazing job compensating for the left ear’s loss. Usually parents see behavior changes, confusion, less participation in school, lower grades, etc. with hearing loss. And while he isn’t the chattiest kid around (yes, he IS related to me, I promise), he has been doing fantastic at school and has never given any of us any obvious signs he can’t hear well enough.

Will he need a hearing aid? He might. We’ll see. She thinks that since he is coping just fine as is, an expensive hearing aid might just get lost and not worn anyway. She doesn’t think its worth it. Yet. She did mention that she wants to retest his ears in two months and maybe do a CT scan of his inner ear structure. We’ll reconsider the hearing aid possibility then.

So how do I feel about all this? I’m disappointed. I wanted his hearing issues to miraculously clear up with a little Claritan. (What parent wouldn’t?) But I am also not surprised. It just didn’t seem to make sense that fluid would explain months of failed hearing tests. I knew it was too good to be true.

I am also not disheartened. His right ear is getting it done. As I have mentioned before, he seems no worse for wear. He has been coping well with this loss all along and he is doing great at school. Shoot, without those audiologist results, we never would have even known he had a loss in the first place. Besides, so many readers, friends and family have pointed out that a mild or moderate hearing loss is kind of no big deal. Really. He’s good. Especially if his loss does not change.

But that’s the key. That he stays as is. That his hearing loss does not get worse.

While I am writing this, my five year old is watching Pinky Dinky Doo. (Nothing like a little after-school downtime with Noggin.) And do you know what he just did? He turned the volume up, slightly. And the other day I noticed that while he as speaking to his beloved uncle, he had the phone on his left ear and almost immediately put the speaker phone on.

Huh.

Oh. Right. I get it now. Or at least, I am trying really reeeeally hard to get it. Maybe I am only now noticing his hearing behavior when I never did before. But this is a learning process. That’s what parenting is after all. We try to learn to be better parents everyday. I am simply just adding one more thing I need to get better at to the list.

I thought I’d post an update about my five year old and his hearing loss. As recommended by our audiologist, we contacted our pediatrician to catch him up on all of the recent developments and get a referral for an ENT. Of course, he insisted we come in to make sure my son didn’t have any fluid in his ear. I was not particularly enthused. Sure, after 3 exams (with ear checks) over a period of months, our pediatrician would suddenly find fluid and that alone would explain his hear loss? I was doubtful and annoyed he would be taking another co-pay from us – but we went along none the less.

(Because, for real, what the hell do I know about all this anyway?)

And guess what our pediatrician found? Fluid. In fact he found a significant amount in his left ear particularly. Clear fluid, not infected fluid, but it is chronic enough – he thinks – to cause this sort of hearing loss. So, yes, he needs to see an ENT. He thinks that sort of fluid could even be related to an allergy issue. Perhaps once this fluid is cleared up, his hearing issues will be resolved.

*Blink*

What? But the audiologist examined him and his ears thoroughly. And these tests have taken place over a period of months. We’ve never heard anything about fluid. (And if it was fluid, could he have had fluid in there all this time?) We were told that his ears were healthy, he responded well to the tests and the results showed that this loss was most likely permanent. We were told that it will affect how he learns at school. And that we’d need plans and procedures and all sort of official paper work done.

Clearly, there are differing opinions. (Those with experience in the medical world are shocked, I am sure.)

So off to the ENT we go. For a third opinion. I am very curious what he’ll have to say now. And while we wait to for our appointment, we’re working on clearing up this fluid with some Claritin.

(It can’t all be as simple as that, can it? Just clearing up some fluid? Shaking my head here. But we’ll see…)

Meanwhile, my kid goes along with it all, shrugging his shoulders at the whole bit. And apart from falling apart alone in the car after dropping him off at school that morning (only hours after hearing the news) I have taken cues from my son and really relaxed about it all myself. I am new to all of this and only just learning what it means to have any degree of hearing loss. But thanks to friends and family alike giving me their personal insight, I have learned that life with a hearing loss is doable. Obviously its doable. Hes been doing it all along as it is. At this point, I just want to know what the situation is so that if accommodations are needed, they are made. That’s all.

I get how minor this is in the grand scheme of it all – believe you me.

And if I was worked up about his potential hearing loss for those few hours after I heard the news, cut me some slack. When a mother finds out news about her children’s health – no matter what it is – it takes a moment to regroup.

But back to the point, my kid is great. Who knows what that left ear of his is up to.  But right now, he is heading into school today to show his class a project he did about asteroids. I am extraordinarily proud of him. Did you know the biggest asteroid is about as wide as Florida? Did you know that some asteroids have moons? I can’t wait to find out how it goes.

A few weeks ago I got a call from an audiologist doing screenings at my child’s school. In one long breath, she told me that my son had failed two hearing tests and would need follow up with an audiologist and referrals are being sent and I needed to wait to hear from them as they would set up the appointment – and that’s all the information she has.

Um, ok.

So I waited. They called eventually. They set up the appointment. I explained to my kid what was going on. But. I wasn’t worried.

I mean after all, he never turned up the TV or computer or seemed unable to hear something. He is doing great at school, his teachers have never mentioned any issues and he never seems confused. And surely when he doesn’t respond to my questions, that is just his personality. He is stubborn and reserved and sometimes he just doesn’t say anything when he doesn’t want to talk about something. That’s all.

Ugh. That is exactly something a mom would say to cover for her kid, isn’t it?

So today, my five year old and I marched in to see the audiologist. I was looking forward to having this over with so I could smugly declare “See? You all had it wrong. My kid hears fine. He just didn’t feel like raising his hand to the pesky beeps.”

The audiologist’s office had a sound proof booth which my son stepped right on into. He is so good about taking direction and obliged every command. I watched carefully through the window, willing his hand up every few seconds (even though I couldn’t hear a thing from where I stood).

After a variety of tests, the doctor handed my son a “I HADE A HEARING TEST TODAY!” sticker and sat down across from me.

“Your son has a mild to moderate hearing loss in his left ear. It is likely it is permanent. And considering how well he took the test, my guess is that this test is accurate.”

She went on to explain follow up tests, forms to bring to school, how we could help him. Sure, kids with this sort of hearing loss get hearing aides. But for one ear, it may not be necessary since the other ear accommodates for the loss.

Hearing aide?

She said it’s hard to know how it happened or if its something genetic but now we should follow up and watch it carefully.

Genetic? I could have passed this down to him? And what about my two year old? He must be tested right away. No wonder he can barely talk. Oh shit. How have I not noticed this hearing loss before? How? And I never followed up with that bilateral hearing test when he was younger. I didn’t want anything to be wrong. Is this from his birth trauma? Will this loss get worse?

I thanked her and left with my son skipping besides me. I forgot to ask her if this could get worse. What if this gets worse? Shit. Don’t panic.

“So, you know how mom has really bad eyes? And you know how if I take off my contacts, I can’t see really well?”

“Yeah. You could walk into a wall!”

“Uh, right. Well, I was born with eyes like that. Turns out you were born with one ear that doesn’t work as well as the other. No big deal. And that’s what all these tests are for.”

“Ok.”

“And maybe that explains why you can’t always hear me from the backseat when we’re driving. …Although, I can’t always here YOU from the front seat either…”

“I think then I got my bad ear from you mom.”

“Heh. Yeah.”

He could care less. And for the rest of the way to school, he munched happily on his Dunkin Donut, dreaming of his T-ball practice tonight.  These results don’t change HIS world, its been this way for awhile.

I was calmer then too. And one fact comforted me the most: his birth trauma. Things could have been SO much worse. If this is it? If this is all we get for what could have been? This is no big deal. One thing those 11 days in the NICU gave me was perspective. This is fine. We can absolutely handle this.

By the time I arrived at his school, I had gathered myself. Cool, calm, a mommy in charge, I walked in and explained our morning.

“Oh.” She suddenly had a concerned look on her face. “I think you need to explain all this to someone else….” she trailed off as she ducked into the back office. Out came someone more “in charge” and after she heard the deal, she started rattling off procedures for a 504 plan and preferential seating and she would try and have him observed by someone or other who was coming in tomorrow and there will be forms to fill out and you will be called by so and so…

I didn’t feel so calm all of the sudden. Plans? Procedures? Huh?

She looked at me carefully then. “This must be very overwhelming for you dear.” She had a warm face and seemed very sympathetic.

Gulp. Finally a lump in my throat appeared. I chattered away about this and that and how I just want someone to be sure to check in with him because he won’t advocate for himself. He’s very shy and self conscious and I will be emailing his teacher and look forward to speaking to someone about his… er… 504 plan. Thank you.

Out I rushed to the car. And cried. My baby. He has a hearing loss.

(An update can be found here and here.)