CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE Dealing with Deafness

Diego improved daily. By the end of the week, his vision had returned, but he still had head pain. His hearing had not improved, however. Dr. Hernandez did a series of hearing tests, and realized Diego had lost almost all of his hearing in one ear, and some in the other. Within a few days, Diego finally remembered the fight itself.

"I still don't understand why saying "Gracias" in Spanish set him off like that," Diego shook his head slowly, trying to make sense of it. Dr. Hernandez conducted a follow-up examination at the hacienda. Diego sat in the Library on the couch. Hernandez packed up his bag – on a chair across the room.

"There's so much about the mind and sanity we don't understand. I wrote to Doctor Barton's mentor, Doctor Henry Jackson, about a month ago, when we first started having problems – when we first suspected he was involved. I hope to receive an answer soon."

"I'm sorry?" Diego leaned his 'good' ear forward, straining to hear, cupping it with his hand. This is so frustrating, he thought. Now I have to apologize for not hearing someone. But I get tired of saying 'What?' or 'What was that?' or 'What did you say?' all the time!

Hernandez turned toward Diego and smiled. He raised his voice slightly to make sure Diego heard. "There's a lot we don't know about how the mind works. Sorry. Sometimes I forget – I need to face you – or be closer to you – or raise my voice a bit."

Diego frowned. "I'm sorry. I do try not to get frustrated. But I strain to hear all the time. It's very draining. I get so tired. Sometimes, all I hear is… mum-mum-mum. Sometimes I get pieces of words, sentences. I – try to guess what people are saying. Most of the time – I'm – right – but sometimes…when I'm not – it's so embarrassing. Sometimes – and I know this frustrates people – but because I didn't hear them say it – I'll say the same thing about a minute or two after they said it. Then I get a funny look at best, or they'll say – 'I just said that' – with a condescending attitude – at worst. At least I'm not talking at the top of my lungs anymore. I'm learning how to tone my own voice down…at least some of the time…" Except when I get excited, or if I'm in a crowd – I know I talk louder than I need to, as evidenced by my hoarseness at the end of the day…he thought.

Diego stopped a moment and closed his eyes, his voice caught. Dr. Hernandez put a hand on Diego's shoulder. "I know this is difficult for you, Diego. I'm so sorry. I do still believe it's temporary, but if not…"

Diego remained silent. It better not be permanent…what would I do if it is? I don't want to think about that. Try to be patient, try to be patient…I'll heal…I'll heal. One day I'll wake up, and my ears will be healed. That's how I have to look at it, he thought.

Z

Jackson's mental state had not improved. Most days he sat in his cell and stared, or got up and paced. Sometimes he looked out the window. Sometimes he lost his temper and yelled and screamed in English. Sometimes, he grabbed the bars and shook them. Diego brought books in English for him via Mendoza. Sometimes Jackson would pick one up and read a while, then get frustrated and throw the book on the floor, only to pick it up later – and the cycle began again.

Sergeant Mendoza was Jackson's only contact – always with one or two lancers present when he needed to open the cell door, guarding Jackson closely with weapons drawn. He remembered Victoria's comment about rattlesnakes.

Once Diego was up and around, he inquired about Jackson every couple of days, sometimes bringing with him another book in English. He had already brought Ivanhoe and Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott. He didn't think Mary Shelley's Frankenstein would be helpful though, although he thought it possible Jackson could identify with the monster. He might not like the ending, however. Diego also brought Swiss Family Robinson by Johann David Wyss. All concerned felt Diego should not have any more contact with Doctor Jackson Barton. Since Diego's hearing was still impaired, he abided by that decision.

Z

Diego spent most of his days at the hacienda except when he went to the pueblo to work on the next issue of the newspaper. He did most of the work alone or only with Felipe, because Felipe could help him know when there was a visitor.

"Diego! I came to bring you Doña Corazón this week. "Diego?" A little louder, "Diego?"

Diego had his back to the door. He was working the press. When Felipe saw Diego hadn't heard her at all, he made sure he acknowledged by sight she was there – then, he touched Diego lightly on the arm. It startled him, and he jumped.

"Felipe! Don't scare me like that!" Felipe curved his hands from the top of his head to his shoulders, indicating long hair – his sign for Victoria. "What? Oh. Sorry." Diego turned and saw Victoria.

"Ah, the most beautiful woman in all California." He stopped what he was doing, smiled, walked over to her, took her hand and kissed it. "What can I do for you, mi amor?"

Victoria remembered to raise her voice a couple of notches. "You are such a gallant gentleman, mi querido. I have brought my column for next week."

"Gracias, Senorita. Is this a business visit, then?"

She started back towards the door, turning away, forgetting already. "Si, I'm afraid I must get back. Will I see you at siesta?" She threw the last line over her shoulder, but not loud enough.

Diego squinted with concentration. "What?"

Victoria turned around fully in order to face him. "Sorry. See you at siesta?" She smiled sweetly.

Diego smiled and nodded. "Si – siesta."

He turned to Felipe after she left. "I feel like my head's in a bubble."

Z

Two weeks later, Diego's hearing began to return, but very slowly. Days went by and there would be no improvement. But eventually, he didn't ask for quite as many repeated statements as before. Dr. Hernandez was still hopeful he'd regain his full hearing. Every once in a while one of his ears would pop a little. That usually brought a small increase in hearing.

Diego met Dr. Hernandez at the hacienda in the sala. "How are you today, Diego?"

"Do you really want to know, Doctor?" He nearly spat out the words, so great was his mounting anger.

"Si, Diego. I need to know…as your doctor…and as your friend. I know your hearing has improved a little, but I'm guessing not quickly enough." He reached out and put his hand on Diego's arm a moment before withdrawing it.

Diego's frustration came out. He got up and paced. "No – it's definitely not quickly enough. Sometimes, I just smile and nod when I can't hear what someone has said. I have learned how to cup my 'good' ear with my hand to magnify the sound. That does help some – but I can't go around with my hand cupped behind my ear all the time! I'd still like to know how long. How long I'll be like this…when will we know if it's permanent?" He stopped pacing a moment, and turned to face Dr. Hernandez.

He didn't particularly like the answer he got. "Diego, you know as well as I do that the brain is unpredictable and we don't know that much about it. But tell me, how are you coping?"

Diego drew in a long breath – and let it out very slowly. He looked down to the floor, then all over the place. Sometimes he would look Dr. Hernandez in the eye, but mostly down or around. During his 'speech,' he got up and paced back and forth to help relieve his frustration.

"How am I coping – is that what you said?" He thought a moment, then continued. "I don't know – the best I can, I guess. I try to avoid crowds. But sometimes, even in a small group of three or four – even if someone is only ten feet away – if they speak too softly – I can't hear a word they're saying. Then – I feel like an idiot.

"If someone speaks to me and I can't hear them – when they finally get my attention…it's just I feel…I don't know. I've actually had a few people tell me they wondered if I thought I was too good for them – that I was a snob, because I didn't respond to them when they spoke to me. Others looked down their noses at me – dismissing me for being simple-minded – all because I couldn't hear them. Well – I'm not going to carry around an ear trumpet!

"If I find this is permanent…well – I'll deal it more then. But to never hear well again…only as much as I hear now…I would have to grieve that – and deal with that loss at that time. I'm probably in some sort of grief now – but I'm still in hope it's not permanent. I'm more angry and frustrated than anything else."

Dr. Hernandez spoke tenderly. "I know this is difficult for you, Diego. I think you know everyone is praying your hearing will return. As for ear trumpets, I just heard of something new. It's a device called an ear tube – where you stick the smaller end into your ear and someone speaks into the larger end. That could help in smaller, more intimate settings with fewer people. I'm afraid nothing can be done for larger settings. You may have to have someone 'hear' for you – someone who would help you in those situations – then let you know what was said – or where to focus your attention – to let you know when someone is speaking to you."

They were both silent a moment, then Dr. Hernandez rose to leave. "Keep faith, Diego. I know it's difficult, but try to be patient and let yourself heal. I still believe this is temporary. I'll let myself out."

Z

It gave Diego an insight into Felipe he didn't previously have. They talked about it in the cave one day.

"Felipe, I can't imagine how you managed all those years you couldn't hear. No wonder you have great powers of concentration."

Felipe signed something. Diego interpreted. "It's something you developed because you were forced to use your eyes. But after your hearing returned, you continued to develop it."

Felipe smiled, and signed something. Diego interpreted. "You concentrate well because you had no noise to distract your thoughts. You understand my frustration. You're going to write me a letter because what you want to say is too long to sign? I look forward to reading that. Gracias."

Later that night, Felipe came to Diego just before bed and gave him a note.

Mi Hermano…

When you first found me, I could not hear nor speak. In looking back, I think now, that my hearing was damaged at first because of the explosions, but stayed away because of my emotions. I can't remember exactly when my hearing started to come back – but it was some time after you left for Spain.

I still can't speak, but I know that in time, I will. You have been, and still are, so patient with me. I am forever grateful. I love you for it. I don't know how to tell you what you mean to me. I think you know – but if I don't say it enough – I love you – you – who found me – who is now my brother.

I can't begin to tell you what you mean to me because the world isn't big enough nor are there words enough to describe how I feel. Because of you, I am alive. Because of you, I have a home. Because of you, I am educated. Because of you, I am loved and adopted. Because of you, I am healing from the terrible emotional pain of losing my parents during a terrible war. I will speak someday – because of you.

But this is about the frustration you feel. I felt it too – for a very long time. It is very difficult – before I knew how to sign or lip read – I couldn't understand anything said to me. It was hard to know what people expected of me or wanted me to do.

I was locked in a wall of silence. And that silence was isolating. That silence was – confining. That silence was – so awful and frightening. Before Father taught me to read and write – while you were gone – it was so hard. I was like a baby who had to be taught everything, because I knew nothing. You and I had barely begun our own type of sign language when you left. Father knew some of it – but not nearly all – but we managed to communicate – as soon as I learned to read and write.

After you left for Spain, my hearing began to return, gradually, like yours. Since I had hearing before the August Revolution, I remembered sounds, but I had gotten used to being deaf. It was quite an adjustment to hear again – a good one – but still a bit frustrating at times. At first, I could hear some things, but not others – kind of like you are – now.

I learned instead to look at peoples' mouths while they talked, instead of their eyes. Over a period of years, I learned to recognize what words looked like when they were spoken. I looked at the shape of their mouths as they spoke certain words. That's how I learned to lip read. It was hard – because if I couldn't see their mouth move – I couldn't tell what they were saying.

When my hearing began to return, everything sounded very loud, sometimes painful – sometimes like a cacophony of noise. As more hearing returned, and my understanding with it – it became exciting. And now – hearing birds sing – is rapture.

So, mi hermano, I know how you feel. I truly do. I am always here for you. When no one else understands, know that I do. I pray that your hearing continues to improve and that you will regain your full hearing…because even a partial wall of silence is still a wall…that separates. Anytime you need to talk – or – air out your grief or anger – you may air it out with me. I will be as patient with you as you have been with me…maybe more so – because I know what it feels like. I've been through it before.

I am your loving brother,

Felipe

P.S. Do you have any ideas about when I should tell Father I can hear?

TBC

Next up: New Doctors in Town – only three more chapters to go…and one BIG revelation…