I believe in miracles. Life itself is a miracle, and those who disagree, can only be regressive, loveless fools. Love is also a miraculous phenomena. It has amazing curing powers, and can even determine premonitions. I know this because I have personally experienced them.
When I was about nineteen I had an important operation in my right ear. Due to an inherent physical ailment called Otospongiosis that my mother also suffered from through her life, it was necessary for me to undergo an operation called Stapedectomy. It consists of removing the stapes of the middle ear and replacing them with a very simple prosthesis. In the sixties this operation was relatively new, and I was fortunate enough to be operated on by a certain Dr. Wright (In Middlesex Hospital, London) who was later knighted for his excellent surgical achievements in this field. However, at that time there was less certainty that a similar operation should be carried out on both ears within a limited period of time.
In any case, I had other ideas and wished to travel and work on the continent, which I did. In the process I neglected the eventual requirement regarding my left ear, and my hearing on that side deteriorated.
Out of ignorance and blind faith I entrusted this care, probably too late in any case, and following the advice of my ex father-in-law (GP) to an aesthetic surgeon in France, who also claimed to be able to perform the operation of Stapedectomy (on the side). He failed and I suffer greatly from tinnitus from my left ear also as a result. Apparently, according to an otolaryngologist, there are about twelve such failed cases like mine in Nice caused by this individual. Consequently he no longer has the right to practice, and it’s just as well.
Since then I have naturally adapted to my particular condition, and assume the responsibility as well as the consequences without any regrets. Indeed, apart from tinnitus, I consider that an important degree of deafness can be advantageous. My Scottish mother used to say that if you can’t hear what a person is saying to you, it’s generally never really important. This I too have found to be quite true. In other words if someone really wants to communicate, they will find the means and make the necessary effort to do so.
Hearing aids are constantly improving, and I continue to get by better than I ever imagined, thanks essentially to the operation of Dr. Wright, performed so well, many years ago. Yet, after thirty years of marriage, and of the necessary constant wearing of various hearing aids, I separated from my former wife and was later destined to meet another woman.
The person I was destined to meet accepts me and loves me as I am. This was in fact a brand new experience for me. I in turn accept her and love her as she is. When we first met, almost twenty years ago now, another miracle took place. For two years following our meeting I no longer needed to wear a hearing aid in my right ear. How is it possible that after so many years of being obliged to rely on a hearing aid, I was suddenly free of this obligation? That this incredible experience lasted two years is indeed a miracle, and is proof of the powers of love and well being (amor vincit omnia). That it didn’t last longer than two years in no way diminishes its importance and its miraculousness.
I am fortunate enough to have therefore benefitted from miracles. They apply to me in other aspects as well, but it would take far too long to also refer to such history here.
Recently I had an appointment with another ear specialist who believes that he might be able to perform a miracle regarding my insensitive left ear. I had promised to visit him, but deep down, despite a degree of curiosity, I had no illusions. What put me off was what could to some extent be interpreted as a threat. He said that there was no doubt, it was absolutely factual, that my right ear would get worse. He obviously has no personal knowledge of me or my life’s trajectory, and has no real interest. Why should he have? Naturally it will get worse, and eventually I won’t hear anything at all because I will be ‘elsewhere’. But even ‘elsewhere’ wherever that might be, I sometimes wonder if the deafening sounds that roar in my head will go on and on relentlessly, even after life...
Nevertheless, Picasso was right. ‘It takes time to be young’. Perhaps this is even truer for those like me, far up in the clouds, who have no conception of time. Is it old age that makes me believe that I’m getting younger, or at least that I’m not getting any older? Isn’t this yet another miracle? I think it is.
Alice too, is immortal. When one has nothing left to prove, apart from, to oneself, then surely one has time to be young.
Text © Mirino. (Photo by Bruno). October, 2020
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