Patients came begging for relief, and I always said the same thing: "Don't worry, it's nothing serious."
But then the ringing came for me.
At first, a faint whisper. Then a hiss. Until it became so loud I couldn't think straight.
Sleepless nights. Days of exhaustion. Panic attacks in the middle of consultations.
The shame of realizing I had become the very patient I once dismissed. And the worst part… there was no cure for me.
In my desperation, I devoured every study, every chart, every forgotten note in medical journals. That's when the truth hit me like lightning: the problem was never in the ear.
It was a signal. A red alarm flashing inside the nervous system—triggered by inflammatory molecules no one dared to connect.
I had spent my whole career fighting the wrong enemy.
That revelation changed everything.
For the first time, I realized silence wasn't lost forever. If the brain could be thrown into chaos, it could also be calmed. If the nervous system could be set on fire, it could also be healed.
The mere thought of waking up in peace, without the endless noise, gave me a new strength. A strength I had never felt as a doctor… but only as a human desperate for silence.
