Hearing Aids, Humility and Parkinson's Disease

Leaning over I whispered to the lawyer beside me at the counsel table, "Can you hear the Judge?" He looked at me quizzically and nodded. Now what do I do! It was an important case and I was representing several major clients who could lose millions of dollars depending on what the Judge was saying. I thought objecting or putting up my hand would be a career-limiting move in the lawyer-crowded courtroom. But even with my hand cupped to my ear all I could pick up were mostly muffled words. I was 40 years old and seemed to be going deaf.

Hearing aids have been an embarrassing reality for me ever since. When I realized that others were hearing what I could not, such as in Court that day, I had no alternative but to see an ENT specialist. The diagnosis; Otosclerosis. For those who care to know, it the growth of bone in the middle ear affecting the stapes – like arthritis of the ear bone. Beethoven and Howard Hughes had it, as does Frankie Valli (maybe that explains the falsetto - you have to be older than 40 to get it). The choice was clear. But I was bothered by the "deaf and dumb" stigma. I feared those strap-on earmuff hearing aids. Was not this all something for old folks? Little did I know that the same fears, stigma and misunderstanding would hit me a short time later in life in the guise of Parkinson's disease.

I did not choose my hearing loss that has resulted in the need for my increasingly noticeable hearing aids. I cannot even blame it on playing too much Led Zeppelin at 120 decibels through headphones. And despite my misspent youth, neither did I choose nor facilitate the onset of PD and its increasingly noticeable tremours and other manifestations. Both embarrass me and leave me feeling self-conscious. But why?

It occurs to me that both of these shortcomings, the loss of hearing and dopamine production, confront and do damage to my fragile, I-can-do-it-all false pride. A pride in an image that I want to project in order to protect disclosing the real "me". There is something that is whispering (or in my case, shouting), "People will not accept the shaky, half-deaf person that I am."

The resulting conviction is that I need to get over my "image", and learn honest humility.

Embarrassment is a curious thing. Most of us get embarrassed if we clumsily trip upstairs or take a spill while showing off. But those who struggle with balance because of Parkinson's and do a face-plant due to what others not so secretly characterize as an apparent lack of sobriety or agility are also embarrassed. Must they be?

What am I learning from being embarrassed? First, I now try to slow down a bit before I jump to conclusions about the shortcomings in appearance or behavior of another. This is often thinly veiled prejudice; judging without the true facts or applying a false standard. Second, when other people misjudge me (at least to the degree I know about it) I try to give them the benefit of the doubt. It is rarely mean-spirited criticism of who I am, but more often a lack of information, thoughtfulness or even self-esteem on the part of the observer. Third, I try and recognize that the difference between humility and humiliation is that the former results from an understanding that we all have shortcomings and weaknesses, whereas the latter results from a misunderstanding that shortcomings and weaknesses are unacceptable in others and ourselves.

I do not expect to suddenly stop being embarrassed about my hearing aids and PD symptoms. But if, as is said, humility is a virtue, then inevitably schooling is needed to achieve it. “Life is a long lesson in humility” (19th century Scottish dramatist, James Barrie, the originator of Peter Pan).