Best Of

I have a similar story, scaredme—and it predated my bc diagnosis. In 2004 when I was 53, shortly after returning from a flight on which I caught a cold, I woke up one morning and found that music on TV—commercials, themes, etc.—sounded tinny, sour and completely off-key. Vocals and instrumentals sounded like they were in different keys, in the same song! My best Martin guitar sounded like a cheap solidbody electric that wasn't plugged in. And stuff sounded a quarter-step flatter in my L ear than my R. That weekend I had 2 gigs (plugged in, and miked so I could hear myself sing and ignore the fact that the guitar sounded off) and a large-group recording session for the anniversary of "Give Peace a Chance" (I was assigned to play dulcimer and be part of a 12-member harmony choir of Chicago folkies and rockers). I managed to get through it, gritting my teeth all the way, and a week later I was part of a folk festival—my workshop set was miked so it was tolerable, but the sound of acoustic instruments jamming all over the festival grounds was like fingernails on a blackboard, so I went home early. Now, a few weeks earlier, my right hip began "snapping" painfully—the only thing that relieved it was swinging that leg in an arc as I held on to things like I was a dancer at the barre. At that folk festival, I was forced to use a cane to walk because of the pain.

Went to an ENT for the hearing problem—he said "must be something with your cochlea" (ya think?) and told me to hydrate and take Sudafed to decongest my middle & inner ear. I went online to a female musician listserv to which I subscribed and described the problem—and received a flood of "me too!" responses (unlike what the young ENT said). One musical colleague from Seattle gave me the name of a local neurotologist who successfully treated her "sudden sensorineural hearing loss" and even offered to put me up should I decide to fly out. Because of the congestion, though, flying was out of the question. The neurotologist gave me the name of his colleague in Chicago—but when I called for an appointment I was told he had passed away a week earlier, and I was referred to another neurotologist in the suburbs. I went to him, he gave me a standard hearing test, declared there was nothing wrong, saying "you're a musician, you're just too picky about pitch." He concluded I had atypical Meniere's syndrome (a diagnosis made when everything else has been excluded), put me on a restrictive diet and ordered a brain MRI, which I had the day after I saw my orthopedist for the hip problem.

Meanwhile, back at the orthopedist (who had a room full of residents and fellows), I described the symptom and how I relieved it, and he ordered an X-ray. When the films came back (they still used film), he gasped and said "What the f***?" (not something you want to hear from your doctor). There on the film, the tip of that side of my hip had broken off and there was a chip floating free. At 53 I was too young for osteoporosis. So he ordered a PET scan.

I spent that weekend awaiting the results of both the brain MRI & PET scan. (I'd asked the ENT "are you considering bone mets from a brain tumor, or brain mets from bone cancer?" and he replied "Yes." Also not what you want to hear from your doctor). I spent that weekend frantically Googling "bone cancer" and "brain tumors affecting hearing," and the prognosis for either was not encouraging. I began looking at obituaries of people at least 5 years older than me and began to resent that I might not live that long.

Come Monday morning, the MRI results came back negative for any brain abnormalities. I went to the orthopedist, and he showed me the scan that he concluded showed only inflammation, no lesions. He then asked, "Say, didn't my former partner harvest bone from your hip in 1996 in order to put your broken leg (from having been hit by a car) back together? Looks like he dug a bit too deep, but better to over-harvest than not take enough." Thus, the two swords of Damocles were retracted back up into the ether. (A course of antioxidants & steroids cleared up the hearing disturbance, and the bone chip was resorbed by my body so the ligament stopped getting hung up on the jagged edge of the iliac crest).

So 11 years later when I was diagnosed with IDC, I was a bit more prepared (though still pretty scared).