There’s a physician’s adage out there that says “When you
hear hoof beats behind you, think horses, not zebras.” It advises that, when
seeking to identify the “why” behind a symptom, to first test for the most
obvious causes.
Alas, my personal medical history is chock-full of zebras: My
puffiness during pregnancy was pre-eclampsia that nearly cost me my kidneys. My
post-partum problems were not a simple depression or even an infection, but was
in fact undiagnosed MS. Later, my “female problem” was not a result of age or
stress (both had been suggested by two different doctors) but rather ovarian cancer. Even when I went to
my doctor to find out why I had gone partially blind in one eye, I was
told “That’s not the way MS usually acts, so you’ve had cancer?” And we mustn’t
forget that it took 25 years and three Neurologists to learn I had MS in the
first place. Lots of zebras.
See, I awoke that Saturday morning deaf in one ear. No big
deal, really. It can happen in MS, I looked it up. Of course I didn’t call my
Neurologist right away for two reasons: 1. it isn’t a relapse until it lasts 24
hours, and 2. it was Saturday. Woke up Sunday in the same state, and I must say
I didn’t like what I was reading on the internet, and I was mad. I have been
“busy” doing things the past few months – LaughFest, my nephew’s wedding in
Connecticut, meeting with my state congress people to promote MS needs, attending holiday celebrations on Easter and the Fourth of July. I’ve done more in
the past four months than I have in the previous two years – and now, I’m deaf
in one ear?!? I felt like the MS was reminding me that it was in charge of my
life.
I did call my Neuro’s office first thing Monday morning, but
I had to leave a message, and then wait. And wait. And wait. The nurse called
back at around 2:00 to verify the info I’d left in the message, then said she’s
inform the person I usually see and get back to me. I asked if it would be yet
today, and she said it should be pretty quick. At 3:30 I heard back, and the
nurse advised that I call my GP rather than them. Really? The GP?
I told myself that at least my situation wasn’t urgent or
that threatening, and that of course I would play the game that Medicare
mandates, jump through the GP’s hoops, then spend the next few days getting an
MRI, and hopefully start on a round of steroids and hopefully get some of my
hearing back! Arrgh!
Tuesday morning I was at the GP’s office, waiting. I had
been told the person I was to see was running a little behind – all tolled I
waited about 45 minutes to see him. He stuck the light thingy in my good ear to
see what “normal” looked like, then around to the bad ear. He started with the
standard “never put anything smaller than your elbow in your ear,” advice and
told me I had an occlusion in that ear, meaning it was blocked with wax!
I had a common problem that happens to lots of people! I was
beyond thrilled and shared my joy with the nice guy. In a few minutes, here
came the nurse to irrigate my ear, and in a matter of seconds, my hearing was
fully restored! Boom-chock-a-lock-a! It was a horse, after all, and not some
wild stallion with lots of buck and fight, but one of those ponies that gentle enough to give
rides at children’s birthday parties. I can’t describe my relief.
Now at this point, you might be wondering if I’ve learned to
expect horses, not zebras. I have to say I haven’t – I will probably still
prepare for zebras as a matter of protection, but I will rejoice every time it’s
a horse, and trust that God will see me through, whatever it is!
