Hear hear!

Here is a little story for you.  Seven weeks ago, after a couple of fairly vigorous sessions at the gym, I started to feel rough.  It was annoying on lots of levels; firstly I was trying to get fit after a fairly indulgent summer, it was our oldest’s birthday celebrations, and I had only just started teaching again after a long break.  Those of you who are freelance musicians will understand this; it’s not a good idea to get ill early on in the term.  Firstly you have to either lose your fees or catch up on the time missed, secondly you don’t feel you’ve ‘earned’ the time off, and thirdly - perhaps most importantly - you lose momentum - which often ultimately means losing work. I was not of the mindset that believes in working your tits off - in fact have freely given advice to friends and colleagues of mine who I thought were overworking; ‘Don’t let work/money rule your life’ I would say, ‘take some time off/allow yourself to properly get better/you’re doing yourself no favours by pushing through/remember the work-life balance.’   Etc etc.  Gosh, I was rather good at it until it happened to me.  It’s so easy to express these kind of opinions when you’ve enjoyed good health and haven’t really factored it in…

Anyway, by the next day I was feeling really ill, took to my bed and hoped I would sweat it out.  I was unable to work the following day for the same reason but felt I really had to push through by day three, so went teaching and conducted a rehearsal in the evening.  I kept driving on with teaching, rehearsals, a gig ten days later and gradually felt things were getting better - except for the fact that I was losing the hearing in my left ear.  The thing about hearing loss I discovered is that it’s not as simple as the volume being turned down.  I had distortion, immense problems trying to tune anything (unless I blocked it off) and - weirdly - a sort of drunken honky tonk piano sound every time I heard one.  It also felt as if I was in a strange bubble, slightly cut off from the world and other senses were affected.  Coincidentally, around this time I saw a BBC News article saying that if you suffered overnight hearing loss you should deal with it immediately as it can now be treated - if dealt with early enough.  I went to the GP who politely fobbed me off; ‘you have ear wax’ he said.  I knew this already and tried to explain that this was different - I’ve had blocked ears so many times but never this - never literally hearing a semitone sharper in one ear than another.  He continued to explain that even if it was something more serious, nothing would be done until my ears were cleaned out, which would take weeks.  I went home, sat on this information for 24 hours and then decided to get it dealt with privately.  ‘Lucky you - being able to afford that’ I can hear some of you thinking.  Let me tell you - I can’t.  But when your whole career, your specific work (conducting, record reviews) is based on aural perception, when your whole spirit, your whole identity is based on hearing, stacking up bills on a credit card seems rather insignificant compared to losing this essential sense.

Because of private health care, I was seen within a couple of days; the treatment including ear suctioning, hearing tested by audiologists, aural steroids and over two further occasions, steroids injected into my ear drum (which really hurt).  Two grand later, I now have ‘normal’ hearing in the affected ear.  It’s good enough to be signed off and I am confident I’ve done everything I could have done to get better.  So why the inverted commas round ‘normal?’  Well firstly, my hearing is indeed much better - and my right ear remains unaffected.  But it made me realise that hearing music is so much more than that.  We all know music engages many senses - indeed most of the brain and body - which is why it is fantastic cognitively for children and adults.  But it also made me much more aware of how entwined with our physical and mental history hearing is.  I have noticed - strangely - that I am now hearing some things differently - even better than before.  At the same time, some of the things I took for granted now have to be concentrated on in more depth; my perception isn’t as quick and I accept that recovering from a virus like this needs to be a slow, patient journey.

Patience is something that has never come easily and the understanding and practice of it is a valuable ‘getting older’ lesson.  But are there any other lessons that have come out of this episode?  Contrary to what many may expect, this isn’t going to be an NHS slagathon.  Actually, within the limited means the GP had, he didn’t do anything wrong; I didn’t have an ear infection and my ears did need de-waxing.  But it’s made me contemplate the sheer luck I’ve had to get this far.  There’s the luck of seeing that news article, the luck of being pushy and articulate enough to even get a GP appointment, the luck of having access to a credit card and the luck of seeing specialists who took my profession seriously (in the great scheme of things I am told, my hearing wasn’t that bad).  But the thing that I am most grateful for is that I listened to and trusted my instinct.  Without any question, the greatest mistakes I have ever made are when instinct has been ignored.  We all know it, and we all feel it - that little voice buried deep that tells you what you know to be true - but don’t want the inconvenience of acting upon it.  Acknowledging it this time was in great part due to experience and wisdom - and yes my friends - that comes with age.  There are some good bits.

Uplifting and contemplative music of the day - nothing specific this time.  I have some delicious things that I’ve reviewed and would like to recommend - but can’t until they’re officially out.  In the meantime however I’m going to be listening intently to The Rite of Spring as I’m going to see a performance next week.  We have probably run out of words to describe this astonishing work; Stravinsky’s composition continues to shock and amaze and groove like crazy.  It’s probably a lifetime’s worth of listening just in that one piece.

Book: - ‘Wintering’ by Katherine May.  There have been a lot of these sort of ‘nature books’ written in the last ten years or so; personal explorations of the seasons, the countryside, pilgrimage.  As there are now so many of them I feared this would be another not-very-original exploration.  But this one resonates - probably because it is honest, succinct and just self-deprecating enough.