The Tribune

By DR KENNETH D KEMP

ALL musicians, spanning the breadth of history, can attest to the fact that music has the power to heal. There is a song for every heartache and one for every celebration. No matter the genre, every melody, chord, tune, lyric and sound is capable of touching the soul and jarring or soothing our every emotion.

On a sunny day in June 2009, at a subway station while living in New York, I learned the true and enduring power of music. I regularly journeyed through this station and always, without fail, there’d be a crowd of people stampeding like a coordinated army of ants rampaging through the forest. But on this day, the entire station was still. There were hundreds of people standing around in total silence. As I walked through the crowd, I, and everyone who emerged from the subway felt a sense of dread knowing that news of some disastrous calamity had likely just broken.

The primary scenario that entered my conscience, given my location, was that there was another terrorist attack underway. Everyone was facing a small television screen parallel to the exit stairwell. Near there, I saw a lady crying and I asked her, as calmly as possible, if we were under attack. And she responded, matter-of-factly, ‘no’. ‘It’s much worse’ she said, ‘Michael Jackson is dead’. The king of pop had died from cardiac arrest.

It was a tangible black swan event that saw one of the busiest subway stations in the world, crowded with men and women both young and old, black, white, Asian, Christian, Muslim and Rastafarian, all brought to a bombastic standstill. As I exited, I turned around and in shock watched as that same crowd grew larger and larger with each additional subway stop depositing more passengers at the station. As the numbers grew, I had the sense of being in a time warp where no one moved or made a sound. All there was, was the sound of silence.

We often take for granted that to appreciate an artist’s musical ability, we must first be able to hear their music. Imagine never knowing what it feels like to listen to your favourite song over and over again or more poignantly not ever being able to hear your parents or spouse say ‘I love you’ or the innocence of a baby excitedly calling your name. Navigating throughout life with hearing difficulties poses many challenges that are often overlooked by the general public. The patient featured in today’s report, hereafter referred to as Mya, suffers with severe hearing loss and she’s chosen to bravely share her story with you.

Mya didn’t know that she had a hearing impairment until ten years ago at the age of 25 when a co-worker asked her why she couldn’t hear the phone ringing whenever her back was turned to it. It dawned on her that it was because she couldn’t see the phone light flashing. She also acknowledged that if she didn’t see someone standing at the door, it was difficult to discern that the door bell was ringing. Initially she laughed it off but became more concerned as she realised that it was also difficult for her to decipher other sounds like the noise from a fan or the slapping sound that rain makes as it hits the ground.

Facing the increasingly apparent reality that something was wrong, she saw an audiologist, underwent testing and was stunned to learn she had 70 percent hearing loss in one ear and 60 percent loss in the other.

Hearing loss is common in her father’s family, dating back to her great, great grandparents. Even so, the news was as heartbreaking as it was shocking and she was told that she’d have to wear hearing aids in both ears for the rest of her life.

Since then, she’s opted to only wear one in the ear where her hearing loss is most severe because without insurance, one is all that she can afford. The hearing aid makes everything louder but it doesn’t make her hearing any better. It also hurts to wear it for a prolonged period of time.

Despite that, the first time she wore it she felt like she’d stepped into a new, more colourful, world. She could hear birds, the sound of ocean waves. What stood out most was the beeping sound her car made if she opened the door with her key still in the ignition.

She’d driven that car every day for years and never knew it made that sound.

Given Mya’s degree of hearing loss, her audiologist was genuinely surprised that she had made it so long without any medical intervention but, without realizing, she’d read lips from childhood and that enhanced her ability to comprehend what people were saying.

But something had dramatically changed that caused her to struggle where she had once compensated. So I asked her why, after all these years, was she no longer able to follow conversations or ‘hear’ like she once did.

It was the introduction of face masks as a result of COVID-19. For the rest of us, face masks are at worst annoying, at best, an inconvenience we are willing to tolerate for our own health and for the health of others.

But for Mya, it was world-changing. Masks made it more difficult to follow conversations even when her hearing aid is worn. She now rarely engages in conversations that involve more than two people at a time since, in her experience, people get annoyed when you ask them to repeat themselves more than once.

Even at home, if her husband is talking to her with his back turned and facing the television, she knows he’s speaking but it’s muffled and she can’t comprehend what he’s saying.

It’s a daily frustration and many people don’t appreciate her struggle. She feels embarrassed about it but fortunately her husband is incredibly understanding because his brother is deaf.

Mya’s brother-in-law lost all of his hearing as a baby when he developed a sustained high fever that damaged his cochlea, which is found in the inner ear and is pivotal in the auditory transduction process.

The same year that Mya got her hearing aid is the year that she met her husband. On their wedding day, she stood facing her husband and couldn’t read the priest’s lips, so when reciting her vows she had to pause several times.

When her husband discerned what was happening, he mouthed the words as the priest spoke so that she could follow along and understand what was being said.

She also feels blessed to work in the medical profession because her employer and co-workers are exceptionally supportive and often help her by writing down their needs for the day, speaking loudly or removing their masks when communicating with her directly.

Mya plans to learn sign-language soon and wanted everyone to learn from her story that hearing loss is an all too often overlooked disability and she fervently hopes that the government will recognise the hardships the hearing challenged face finding employment.

With no medical options available to treat her condition, Mya will eventually lose her ability to hear entirely. She will be completely deaf in both ears. She cries just thinking about it, knowing her life will change forever.

Her six-year old daughter has been tremendously helpful to her so she spends a considerable amount of time listening to and cherishing her voice every day knowing that her child’s laughter will eventually be replaced by the sound of complete silence, the same sound I heard in that crowded New York subway the day Michael Jackson died.

Although she acknowledges that this will happen, she remains hopeful that someday there will be a cure or in the very least a treatment option that more effectively delays her symptoms.

As a Christian, she prays daily for divine miraculous healing. But until then, even as the colours of her life become dimmer, she plans on listening to as much Michael Jackson music as possible and singing every word to every song with the tacit unwavering conviction of a woman determined to defy the odds.

This is the KDK Report.

Dr Kenneth D Kemp is the founder and medical director of Bahamas Foot and Ankle located in Caves Village, Western New Providence. He served as the deputy chairman for the Health Council for five years and he currently sits on the board of directors for the Princess Margaret Hospital Foundation in his role as co-vice-chairman.