October 24, 2017--Audiological Take: Previous Life (Part 2 of 4)

When in a rush John Allan and I arrived at Gary Schwartzberg's office, his assistant, Angie, said he was finishing with a patient and would be with us shortly. Even she, who is always calm and centered, seemed upset. I was tempted to ask her what was going on but didn't want to pass along any of my own anxiety or breach any confidences.

We settled in the waiting room and without the ability to concentrate on them thumbed through some Starkey hearing aids pamphlets. In a few minutes we heard Gary in the hallway, escorting one of his clients to Angie's desk. "Please make an appointment for Mrs. Lindley in about four weeks. For her next adjustment."

I was relieved to see that Gary seemed like his familiar self. No signs of distress. "I'll be right back," he said to John and me, "I want to walk Mrs. Lindley to her car." Gently, he took her and together slowly they approached the door to the parking area.

I whispered to John, "Maybe he's more OK than we are imagining. I mean, he seemed perfectly normal. I know him pretty well by now and he didn't seem any different to me. This may be wishful thinking, but let's see what he has to say."

John said, "I agree. Let's hold back and let him do the talking. We shouldn't express any unusual concern, other than through the fact that we're here! And that he said he'd appreciate it if we could come right away to see him. That in itself is evidence that something out of the ordinary is on his mind or happening. So let's try to act casual and as if we were nearby and just popped in."

"I'm trying not to sound worried but don't forget he asked us to come to see him on short notice, knowing we don't live around the corner."

"All true. But let's try to play it cool."

I sank back in my chair and listened to the Bach cello suites barely audible on his office sound system. "This is the same music he programmed my hearing aids to pick up during nights when I couldn't fall asleep. Not that he admitted that he did that, but how else might that have happened?"

"Chalk it up to more strangeness," John said. We both strained to listen to the music.

After another five minutes, I said, "Doesn't it seem that he's been out there with Mrs. Lindley for a long time?"

"I agree," John said, "I'll ask Angie." Which he did. 

"She said she'd check on him. It's not unusual, she said, for him to linger with patients. He's very devoted to them as we well know. But she also said that she'd see what's happening."

Angie by then was at the door and looking intently out to the parking area. "I don't see him," she said, turning to us, "What's strange, very strange, is that Gary's car is not there." 

"He's gone?" John said, all our anxieties reignited.

"His car's not there," Angie said, no longer calm. "He's never done this before. I mean, leave without letting me know what's going on. I don't know what to think." She now, understandably, was more upset than either John or I.

"Did he get a call from his wife or mother? That there was some sort of trouble?"

"If he did, he would have told me. Everything seemed normal. Of course, with the exception of the two of you being here and his asking me to reschedule his afternoon appointments."

"It's not our business," I said, "And I don't want to get involved in anything private. We've become close but we know each other for only a year. But, having said that, he wanted to see us about something that's apparently on his mind." 

John and I smiled, trying to look and sound matter of fact.

"Now that I think about this," Angie said, "For the past few days he hasn't been quite himself. There appeared to be something coming up this weekend, tomorrow, that was weighing on his mind. Some sort of workshop about audiology. Not that that's unusual. They happen all the time and he hardly ever goes. But, as I said, this one seemed to be concerning him. I can't imagine why. He almost never goes, thinking they're a waste of time. So I didn't give it that much attention. We've been very busy."

"But for him just to leave?"

"To tell you the truth, that's what has me worried. It's totally uncharacteristic of him. I don't . . ."

"Do you remember anything about the workshop?" John asked.

I could see Angie struggling to remember. "Nothing that comes to mind. Except maybe one thing."

"What's that?"

"I think it's someplace in Connecticut."

"Maybe Hartford?"

"Not Hartford. They tend to schedule them in resort kinds of places so spouses can come and there's something more to do than just sit in a hotel conference room for two days hearing about the latest advances in audiology."

"I don't know Connecticut that well," I said. "Are there resorts there?"

"Uncasville," John said. They have gambling there. My mother loved it. Mohegan Sun is what it's called. The hotel and casino."

Angie brightened, "That's it! That's where it's being held. But Gary hates gambling. It's not his thing. nor is it his wife's, if she's going with him."

"In the meantime, he's gone," I said, bringing us back to that reality. "On the other hand, I can't connect any of the dots." I looked at John, not wanting to say or reveal  anything inappropriate--his strange and upsetting email to John, his wanting to see us urgently, all the things he hinted to me about his so-called previous life. And now his disappearance.

"I don't know what to say," I confessed to Angie, "Are you OK to be here on your own? I mean, we could stay if . . ."

"I'm all right," Angie said, I'm a Mainer and that means I can handle anything. I have your phone numbers and will call if I hear from him. I guess I should also let his wife know what's happening, though maybe she knows all about it. She also can handle anything. But I don't want to inadvertently create a problem."

We encouraged her to call and, with some reluctance, John and I left, promising to stay in touch to see what she might hear and also, in case he communicated with either of us, to let her know what we might learn.

To be continued . . .

October 23, 2017--Audiological Tale: Previous Life (Part 1 of 4)

An agitated-sounding John Allan was on the phone, "We need to talk."

"Sure. What's up?"

"I got this strange email from Gary."

"Gary?"

"Gary Schwartzberg. My, our audiologist."

"Of course. There's only one Gary. You caught me by surprise."

Now whispering, John said, "He never sends me notes so when I saw his name pop up on my email page, I knew something was wrong. Did he get to you too? You've been working with him longer than I and I know he has on occasion confided in you about, how shall I put this, other aspects of his life."

"True. But this time I've heard nothing from him. He doesn't need to use me to say whatever he wants to say to you. We should have separate relationships with him. Both audiologically and with regard to anything else. But, yes, it appears he hasn't always been the straight-laced professional we know. You remember the Cuba business?"

"Do I ever," John said. "That was pretty wild."

"Yeah. That somehow he was mixed up in figuring out the nature of the sonic attacks Cuba launched against our embassy workers in Havana. How about two dozen have severe disabilities from what the Cubans did to deafen or otherwise injure them."

"I do recall that," John said, "Gary implied he was acting covertly. He hinted that he had some expertise with this sort of thing. That he had been a consultant to one of our security agencies regarding our own capacity to wage sonic warfare. Therefore, we speculated from what he said, including how some of his patients--retired CIA types who live in the area--knowing this about his past life thought he might be helpful with the Cuban situation."

"You're remembering correctly," I said. "He claimed he was trying to lead a normal life and they began hassling him. I told you, I think, how about a month ago he called me and sounding frantic asked if I could come by to talk and how we met at a Dunkin Donuts where he felt we were under surveillance by an undercover operative. I thought he was making this stuff up to add a little drama to his life."

"And then there was the incident of the loaner hearing aids he gave you while yours were being repaired and how through them you heard the voice of the dead woman whose they were. And how it seemed she and her husband too were implicated in some of these spying operations."

"Don't forget how Gary convinced me to allow him to reprogram my hearing aids' prompts so they would sound as if hey were coming from someone who was speaking Czech. And in addition to the prompts, after I attempted to translate what she was saying I thought she was desperately asking me to help her."

"All totally strange," John said.

"So, now what? You mentioned you have an email from him. More weirdness?"

"Decide for yourself. Let me read it to you."

"I can't wait to hear this one."

"He wrote--'I have to tell you my imaginary other life is way more exciting than my present one. I confessed to you and Barbara when you were here for an adjustment that there was a brief moment in which I wondered if there was a possibility that I had been brain-washed by the government to forget my previous life for security reasons; thinking this may be possible as my entire life between 40 and 50 years of age seemed to be like one day.'

"Then he added, which has me worried--'Uh oh, I just might be losing it.'" 

"Incredible," I said, "Do you think there's something to worry about?"

"You would know better than I," John said.

"Is there anything we should do?" I asked.

"I thought you would have ideas," he said, "You're really the one who he has confided in."

"Not confided, more hinted," I corrected John, "But then again why would he send the note just to you? Why not to the two of us?"

John said, "I don't think that's too big of an issue. It's more important I, feel, to see if we can figure out how to respond, maybe help him--I'm pretty sure he'd be OK knowing I shared this with you."

"Why don't you call him to see if he wants to talk. Maybe we'd drive up there and meet him for a drink or something. I'm free later today or any time tomorrow."

"I'll do it," John said, "I'll call his assistant, Angie ,to see if he'd like to get together. I'll call back to let you know what he says."

Before I could get a glass of water John rang back.

"Angie asked Gary and he said he was eager to meet at 2:00 today for a cup of coffee. He told her to reschedule his afternoon appointments. Though two o'clock is just an hour and a half from now I said we'll be there. It's clear he is eager to talk. He doesn't casually reschedule appointments on such short notice."

On the ride up we didn't talk much. It was as if we each in our own way needed silence to prepare ourselves for what would likely turn out to be a very complicated conversation.

To be continued . . . 

Dr. Gary Schwartzburg

September 7, 2017--Audiologist In Search of an Author (Part 1 of 2)

Dr. Schwartzberg sent me an email after meeting with my friends John and Allan for John's monthly hearing aid adjustment. 

Joe told me they spoke mainly about his devices but also about the audiological stories I've been writing. So I wasn't surprised when Gary wrote to me, saying--

"I confessed to John and Barbara that there are times you are making me question reality. Thinking to myself--'Wait, did that happen?'"

"Well," I wrote back, "you may not believe this, but there are times that I've been wondering the same thing about you. 

"Let me give you an example: In the most recent story about the so-called sonic attacks in Havana, to protect his privacy, I made up the name of your patient, a CIA agent or something, who in various ways was involved with countering the Cubans and, to help him, because of your counterintelligence background, how he drew you into the stealthy process and how in turn, though I was unaware that any of this was happening, how this also came to involve me.

"I called him 'Andrews,'" I continued, "and when you read the first part of the story told me, to quote you--'Believe it or not, I have two patients with that name!'"

Distraught that I had misstepped, I responded to you immediately--

"I'm changing the 'Andrews' name to 'Anderson.' I don't want your two Andrews clients to think you're talking inappropriately about them. You're already in enough trouble with your former clandestine colleagues. Now you're seeing how it feels to live in a world of alternative facts."

Still upset with myself, I wrote to Gary--"I was mortified that I had inadvertently violated doctor-patient confidentiality and that I was a party to getting you into further complications and so I rushed to change the CIA guy's fictional name."

I also said, "When you saw my emails you wrote back that you have six patients with the name Anderson.

"I can be a little slow but it finally dawned on me that as I was playing with you you were playing with me.

"So I wrote--

"And here I trusted you. In case you actually have any Andrews as clients, I changed his name to Anderson, and in an attempt to lighten things up, added, "I'm sure you have at least two Andersons as clients. On the other hand," I passed along, "Rona suggested I call Andrews-Anderson 'Ginsberg' since it's unlikely you have any of those."

"I'm getting a headache from this," Dr. Schwartzberg wrote back, "Andrews, Anderson, and now Ginsberg. To tell you the truth you're the only person in the world who cares about any of this. I'm just a simple audiologist trying to serve my patients and send my daughter to college."

"That's what I used to think about you," I wrote in a return email, "Hiding out here in Maine after making your escape from super-heated New Jersey. You know," I said, "I have wondered why you found your way to a small town in Maine. You're super smart, terrific at what you do, have the capacity to build a large and thriving practice, but here you are. All hunkered down. I would have thought . . ."

"This is the perfect place for me," he wrote, this conversation was all via email, "To tell you the truth, I've had plenty of pressure and excitement. Enough for a lifetime. You don't know the half of it. And, as they say, 'If I tell you, I'd have to kill you.'" I could imagine him chuckling at that.

"Thanks for that," I wrote, "I mean, not having to kill me. But I have another story for you. Maybe not unrelated."

"Shoot," he fired back, adding, "Sorry for the violent reference." 

"You know I'm a fitful sleeper. Actually, more an insomniac. I listen to late-night radio to distract myself from anxiosizing. And to bore me which helps put me to sleep. I listen to some sports talk and a mix of talk shows. Mostly rightwing stuff because that seems to be what's on the air in the middle of the night. The Mark Levin Show, Red-Eye Radio, what I call the flying saucer show, Coast-to-Coast AM where most of the callers talk about their contact with extraterrestrials. I also tune in to an assortment of local talkshow hosts from around the country since late at night AM radio signals bounce off the ionosphere. So, one of my favorites is out of Detroit. I don't even know what it's called or the name of the host.

"The other night, I think it was Tuesday, I was listening to him and his callers. I can't remember what they were talking about but as it was approaching 5:00 am, a new show started and on it you'll never believe what happened. Actually, as I suspect you'll see, you probably do know exactly what I'm talking about.

"The guest was an audiologist. Nothing too strange about that because many of these after-midnight programs are devoted to medical talk, like about cyberknife surgery for prostate cancer. I'm sure most of the listeners are at least my age since older folks are notoriously poor sleepers. We lie awake all night thinking about illness and, of course, death.

"But when I heard the show was about audiology, my ears perked up. Pun intended. Here's what to me was strange. The audiologist was saying the exact same things you've been saying to me as you tested me and then fit me for hearing aids. And what you say each week about what's going on when I come in for an adjustment."

I cut off there and sent this email off to Gary. I was curious to see how he would respond with incomplete information. I suspected I was hitting close to home with him or stumbled on to something unusual since two days later he called. Talking on the phone is something we rarely do. Our relationship is more about my coming to his office or us communicating via emails.

He said, "This does sound strange to me. Not that I listen to any of these shows. Thankfully I sleep pretty well. If I need a little help sleeping a beer or two is all I need to put me out."

"You know," I said, not able to contain myself, "Since I wrote to you about this I've been trying without success to tune in again to that Detroit station. I wasn't able to connect. Likely, I thought, because of problems with the atmosphere. I wanted to be able to figure out how to find out who his audiologist guest was. Also, the more I replayed the tape of the interview in my head, not only did he say the same kinds of things you said, though I assume some of it is standard-issue audiological talk, he used some of the exact same words you used when I first became your client and, this is the strangest part, he sounded just like you. I don't mean he sounded a little like you but he sounded just like you, including some of your quirky expressions like 'I want you to have very high expectations and to expect excellent results.' On the show, if you can believe it, just like you, the guest audiologist tore up some paper to show the listeners how it sounded to them. Sort of for diagnostic purposes. And so," I said, "I began to think the guest on the show in Detroit was really you." 

After that burst I finally stopped rattling on.

Dr. Schwartzberg then said, "I don't know how to put this, but I'm a little concerned about you."

"Concerned?"

"You seem to have become obsessed about all things audiological. Don't get me wrong, I'm obsessed too and I like having a patient, a client who's as interested in the subject as I. But in my 25 years of practice I've never had anyone as into it as you. That's my first point." He paused to gather himself, "But then there's this Detroit business. Most concerning is your feeling that the person being interviewed was me because . . ."

"I'm sorry about that," I interrupted, "I know that was ridiculous. It's just that . . ." I began to stammer.

"I need to tell you that I did some research and could not find a late-night, early-morning local talk show in Detroit of the kind you described. All their AM stations broadcast your Red-Eye or Coast-to-Coast shows." 

He waited for me to say something and when I didn't, said, "And I even called an audiologist I know in a Detroit suburb and he knew nothing about any of this. And so . . ." He let his thought trail off.

"So are you saying--I don't know how to put this--that because of my obsession I'm making this up? Or suffering from hallucinations? I mean, we're talking about the middle of the night with me hooked up to a radio and listening to all this craziness." I was feeling quite agitated, worried that over time, if this persisted, I'd have even more difficulty sleeping.

"We've come a long distance from my 'Mr. Andrews,'" Gary said with a hint of irony.

I tried to joke, "Or your Mr. 'Anderson.'" 

I was feeling more and more rattled. What was happening to me? Was I losing my mind? Was I being taken over by malevolent forces? I'm not at all inclined to think that way. I think of myself as totally rational. I pride myself on not being in any way superstitious or subject to believing in the occult, spirits, or anything remotely like that. No matter what I hear from all the deluded people on Coast-to-Coast AM who call in from flying saucers.

"Well," Gary said, "I have patients waiting. You'll be OK. Oh, I forgot to mention, since you still have that loaner hearing aid, until you return it to me, I'd stop using it. In case . . . Just the one for the right ear should get the job done."

"What you're now saying makes me anxious," I said, "Why are you telling me to do this? Is there something you're not telling me about it because . . ." 

The line was dead. He had hung up.

To be concluded tomorrow--

February 7, 2017--Glimmers?

My close friend, Dr. Gary Schwartzberg, the best audiologist on the east coast, has been in existential angst since Donald Trump was elected. It is hard to blame him.

But I have taken it as my mission to find things for him to consider that might ease his anguish. Perhaps some have been more stretches of my imagination than verifiably true, more wish than reality. However, struggling to offer him things to feel optimistic about, all right, to not make him crazy, I have come up with a few things these past few days that appear to have helped ease his political pain. Or at least to offer some brief solace.

Here's something I wrote to him over the past weekend, and what he said back to me--

GS  

Because of med-induced reduced energy this, which could be lengthy, will be brief. I am beginning to see some glimmers of hope. All in the realm of our cherished checks and balances-- Asserting that the U.S. government is not made up just of a powerful executive branch, the federal courts have begun to assert themselves. In at least two instances already there have been judicial rulings that suspended Trump's egregious Muslim-ban executive order. And Trump and his administration are obeying these rulings, albeit appealing them. This is most important. It suggest some acknowledgement on their part of the courts' authority and evidence of restraint on Trump's potential imperial aspirations. 

If this gets to the Supremes with the current 4-4 split the other court's rulings will stand. Of course, who knows what will be if the 9th seat gets filled. (it will). But about these kinds of fundamental constitutional matters even conservative justices (sometimes especially conservative justices) are very protective of the Constitution's separation of powers. Though, on the other hand, they have been over-tolerant of protecting presidential authority, which has grown exponentially since the Depression, World War II, and Cold War. Then, there is clearly a blood-struggle for primacy within the White House among some of the senior staff and Cabinet heads. There was a good WaPo piece a few days ago and a Time magazine cover story about the emerging feud between Bannon-Miller, who hatched the exec order without consulting with the Secretaries of Defense, State, or Homeland Security. All three entities headed by mature, powerful, and self-assured men who, if they will continue to act independently (and I feel will  considering who they are and with history watching), will at some point tell Trump it's either them or Bannon.  

And my guess is that Jared Kusher will soon try to pull the plug on Bannon as he did to get rid of Chris Christie. There may not be room enough in the West Wing for those two. Even Ivanka's brand is being hammered by the excesses of Bannon and Miller. Nordstrom and Neiman Marcus are no longer carrying her line.  I see these to be glimmers of some hope. Of course, as the criticism mounts, Trump may dig in and begin to act out more. Which could be dangerous. But I'm betting on Mattis, Tillerson, and Kelly. And especially Jared and Ivanka. Trump is essentially a small-time mom-and-pop operator on steroids and if his kids do an intervention, it could get interesting and things could get a lot better.  And then thankfully there's the Super Bowl . . .   

SZ

Dr. S responded--

Steve, 

I do see the glimmers and believe that they are real.  Reasonable conservative and liberal federal court judges are beginning to step up to the plate; I am hopeful that more will be energized to do the same.  I read (maybe Times OpEd) that the “so-called judge” tweek was the one of the most dangerous of all--delegitimizing the fed court system.  I also agree, the more extreme and irrational the inhabitants of the White House are, the more likely things will implode sooner than later.   We spent the weekend with my daughter and her boyfriend.  I am encouraged at the intellect and progressive mindedness of some of our youth.   Enjoy the game and help us stay positive my friend.  

G

Then I wrote--

GS 

The Patriots are down by 25 points and I have the TV on mute. Most boring Super Bowl ever! So I have some time to send you one more note before turning it off altogether and hitting the hay. 

Did I read, or am I making it up, that the Trump adminsidtartion has decided not to use off-shore black-op interrogation sites where they torture captives? If true it's another glimmer and likely the result of General "Mad Dog" Mattis asserting himself. 

And in regard to checks and balances we shouldn't forget the American Street.  

Remember the Arab Street during the ill-fated Arab Spring? For the most part things got worse, but it did show the power of an aroused population, even in totalitarian situations. Here, now organized through social media, if the people remain motivated and turn out, that can make a big difference. Remember how street demonstrations helped bring down two presidents--Johnson and Nixon? 

Then again, I can't stop thinking that it may come down to Trump the father and father-in-law versus Steve Bannon, his surrogate whatever. I'm betting on the kids. 

SZ

And then from GS--

SZ 

Speaking of betting, turn on your TV. The Pats are now trailing by only 16 points. Never count them out. 

GS

Finally, I wrote--

GS 

Forget it. There are only a few minutes left and they need two touchdowns, each with two extra points. Can't happen. I'm going to sleep. 

SZ