Hello! I hope everyone is doing well. I have been dealing with hearing issues for the past couple of months due to acoustic trauma, and I have been feeling pretty down about it, especially since it was entirely preventable.
Back in November 2024, I went to my very first rock concert. Unfortunately, I did not do any research beforehand and was unaware of the importance of bringing earplugs. To make matters worse, I stood in the middle of the front section, about 25 feet from the speakers, closer than I should have been.
As soon as the concert started, I was shocked by how loud it was. Despite this, I did not feel any pain from the drums or guitars, which gave me a false sense of security. The opener played for about 40 minutes, followed by a 15 to 20 minute break, and then another 40 minute set from the main act.
After leaving the venue, I noticed that my hearing was slightly muffled, and I had some ringing in my ears. However, by the next day, both the muffling and ringing had disappeared, so I assumed everything was fine. Unfortunately, I would soon realize that was not the case.
Even after the initial muffling and ringing subsided, I began experiencing other symptoms. I had chronic ear pain, with sensitivity inside my ears, especially when touched or when someone laughed near me. I had difficulty understanding speech in noisy environments, and some voices became completely inaudible when there was background chatter. Music sounded distorted, with background vocals and low bass nearly absent, and lyrics often sounded like gibberish. Softer sounds, like footsteps and certain consonants, became hard to hear.
Concerned about these symptoms, I went to urgent care a few days later. The doctor examined me but found no measurable hearing loss, so I was referred to an ENT without any prescriptions. Unfortunately, since this happened during the holiday season, I had to wait nearly two weeks for an appointment.
When I finally saw the ENT, they examined my ears and found that my eardrums were intact, which was at least some relief. They then conducted hearing tests, including pure tone audiometry, tympanometry, and speech recognition and speech in noise tests. Everything came back within normal ranges. The ENT concluded that my hearing was fine and that no medication was needed. They suggested I get tested for auditory processing disorder if my symptoms persisted.
Despite their reassurance, I knew something was not right. How could my hearing test results be normal when I was still struggling with so many issues?
This uncertainty sent me down a rabbit hole of anxiety and sleepless nights. I turned to Google to make sense of what was happening and came across information on hidden hearing loss and Prednisone, a treatment I had never even heard of before.
Feeling even more anxious, I went back to the ENT a week later and described my ongoing symptoms. The doctor still did not see anything wrong but agreed to prescribe Prednisone at 30 milligrams to see if it would help. I knew from my research that this was late compared to standard treatment protocols, but I figured better late than never.
Over the next couple of weeks, I noticed some changes. The ear pain lessened slightly, and I could hear voices in noisy environments again, though clarity was still an issue. Oddly, background voices were fine, but steady sounds like running water, air conditioning, and refrigerator hums made it much harder to hear. I had fleeting tinnitus episodes that would last a few seconds and then disappear. Anxiety and insomnia became severe. I barely got more than three hours of sleep for three weeks, partly due to the steroids and stress. It was not until I almost fell asleep at the wheel that I finally got prescribed anti anxiety medication, which helped tremendously.
Three weeks after my last audiogram, I went for another hearing test, this time much more comprehensive. It included pure tone audiometry, tympanometry, acoustic reflex testing, speech in noise and speech recognition testing, otoacoustic emissions tested up to 12 kHz, and uncomfortable listening level testing. Everything still came back normal. Interestingly, my uncomfortable listening level exceeded one hundred decibels, which might explain why I did not feel pain at the concert. For reference, I never listened to music anywhere near that level in my earbuds or car.
Two months after the acoustic trauma, I can hear people fairly well in crowded places like restaurants, but steady background noise like water, air conditioning, and refrigerator hums still overpowers speech. When washing my hands, I cannot hear the sound of my hands rubbing together if the sink is on, and my voice nearly disappears in the shower. Some vocals and instrumentals in music still sound muted and muddled, though I think it has slightly improved. The chronic ear pain persists, but my ears are no longer sensitive to touch. The fleeting tinnitus has decreased in frequency, now appearing only every few days for about ten seconds at a time. Consonants like f, p, and b are slightly easier to hear but still sometimes inaudible, especially with background noise. Footsteps are still difficult to hear.
Although I have emotionally improved, I still feel frustrated and guilty about what happened. At times, I have even felt angry at myself and at the world. I keep thinking about why I did not know about hearing protection for concerts, why there is so little awareness about protecting hearing, why entertainment has to be so loud, and why venues do not do more to promote hearing safety. These thoughts have weighed on me heavily. However, over time, I have started to forgive myself and take this as a painful lesson learned. I have always believed that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, but I was simply ignorant about the risks.
It is scary not knowing how much more I will heal or if I will improve at all. What makes it worse is that my condition is not something a hearing aid or medication can fix, and doctors do not seem to have any solutions. One of my audiologists mentioned that the auditory system can take a long time to readjust after noise trauma and that my brain might compensate over time. I am not sure how much of that was just to reassure me, but I really hope it is true.
I will follow up with updates as time goes on and let you all know if there is any improvement. Thanks for reading!
Back in November 2024, I went to my very first rock concert. Unfortunately, I did not do any research beforehand and was unaware of the importance of bringing earplugs. To make matters worse, I stood in the middle of the front section, about 25 feet from the speakers, closer than I should have been.
As soon as the concert started, I was shocked by how loud it was. Despite this, I did not feel any pain from the drums or guitars, which gave me a false sense of security. The opener played for about 40 minutes, followed by a 15 to 20 minute break, and then another 40 minute set from the main act.
After leaving the venue, I noticed that my hearing was slightly muffled, and I had some ringing in my ears. However, by the next day, both the muffling and ringing had disappeared, so I assumed everything was fine. Unfortunately, I would soon realize that was not the case.
Even after the initial muffling and ringing subsided, I began experiencing other symptoms. I had chronic ear pain, with sensitivity inside my ears, especially when touched or when someone laughed near me. I had difficulty understanding speech in noisy environments, and some voices became completely inaudible when there was background chatter. Music sounded distorted, with background vocals and low bass nearly absent, and lyrics often sounded like gibberish. Softer sounds, like footsteps and certain consonants, became hard to hear.
Concerned about these symptoms, I went to urgent care a few days later. The doctor examined me but found no measurable hearing loss, so I was referred to an ENT without any prescriptions. Unfortunately, since this happened during the holiday season, I had to wait nearly two weeks for an appointment.
When I finally saw the ENT, they examined my ears and found that my eardrums were intact, which was at least some relief. They then conducted hearing tests, including pure tone audiometry, tympanometry, and speech recognition and speech in noise tests. Everything came back within normal ranges. The ENT concluded that my hearing was fine and that no medication was needed. They suggested I get tested for auditory processing disorder if my symptoms persisted.
Despite their reassurance, I knew something was not right. How could my hearing test results be normal when I was still struggling with so many issues?
This uncertainty sent me down a rabbit hole of anxiety and sleepless nights. I turned to Google to make sense of what was happening and came across information on hidden hearing loss and Prednisone, a treatment I had never even heard of before.
Feeling even more anxious, I went back to the ENT a week later and described my ongoing symptoms. The doctor still did not see anything wrong but agreed to prescribe Prednisone at 30 milligrams to see if it would help. I knew from my research that this was late compared to standard treatment protocols, but I figured better late than never.
Over the next couple of weeks, I noticed some changes. The ear pain lessened slightly, and I could hear voices in noisy environments again, though clarity was still an issue. Oddly, background voices were fine, but steady sounds like running water, air conditioning, and refrigerator hums made it much harder to hear. I had fleeting tinnitus episodes that would last a few seconds and then disappear. Anxiety and insomnia became severe. I barely got more than three hours of sleep for three weeks, partly due to the steroids and stress. It was not until I almost fell asleep at the wheel that I finally got prescribed anti anxiety medication, which helped tremendously.
Three weeks after my last audiogram, I went for another hearing test, this time much more comprehensive. It included pure tone audiometry, tympanometry, acoustic reflex testing, speech in noise and speech recognition testing, otoacoustic emissions tested up to 12 kHz, and uncomfortable listening level testing. Everything still came back normal. Interestingly, my uncomfortable listening level exceeded one hundred decibels, which might explain why I did not feel pain at the concert. For reference, I never listened to music anywhere near that level in my earbuds or car.
Two months after the acoustic trauma, I can hear people fairly well in crowded places like restaurants, but steady background noise like water, air conditioning, and refrigerator hums still overpowers speech. When washing my hands, I cannot hear the sound of my hands rubbing together if the sink is on, and my voice nearly disappears in the shower. Some vocals and instrumentals in music still sound muted and muddled, though I think it has slightly improved. The chronic ear pain persists, but my ears are no longer sensitive to touch. The fleeting tinnitus has decreased in frequency, now appearing only every few days for about ten seconds at a time. Consonants like f, p, and b are slightly easier to hear but still sometimes inaudible, especially with background noise. Footsteps are still difficult to hear.
Although I have emotionally improved, I still feel frustrated and guilty about what happened. At times, I have even felt angry at myself and at the world. I keep thinking about why I did not know about hearing protection for concerts, why there is so little awareness about protecting hearing, why entertainment has to be so loud, and why venues do not do more to promote hearing safety. These thoughts have weighed on me heavily. However, over time, I have started to forgive myself and take this as a painful lesson learned. I have always believed that an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure, but I was simply ignorant about the risks.
It is scary not knowing how much more I will heal or if I will improve at all. What makes it worse is that my condition is not something a hearing aid or medication can fix, and doctors do not seem to have any solutions. One of my audiologists mentioned that the auditory system can take a long time to readjust after noise trauma and that my brain might compensate over time. I am not sure how much of that was just to reassure me, but I really hope it is true.
I will follow up with updates as time goes on and let you all know if there is any improvement. Thanks for reading!
