The effect of Autumn on me
This morning I woke up and felt the need to write. I had been thinking about it for a few days, you know, it’s been a while since I last wrote, searching for justifications like ‘I’ve been busy, I was in Italy, had some minor work issues, various commitments’… I was just looking for excuses.
But all this is just the effect of autumn on me, or rather the effect of these days.
On October 19, 2020, I was admitted to the hospital in Milan for my life-saving operation (or at least I thought it was). I had been unwell for over a year, and the only solution was to ‘open up’ my left ear and see what was there, especially behind the Mastoid bone. Mastoidectomy.
The operation went perfectly. I felt fine, the pain in my left ear was gone… but the day after, I started hearing less on the right side. The ear that was still functioning. ‘Doctor, am I going deaf?’ I asked. The reply: ‘No, no… it’s just that you’ve been in a bent position for quite some time, it’s normal, and there might be a buildup of fluids’… ENT check-ups, everyone trying to reassure me.
Two days later, silence. Deafness. Only after several months did we realize that it was an autoimmune disease, a very rare one indeed.
And this period always reminds me of those days. I laugh it off, celebrate my ‘ear’s birthday’ (it’s three years old now and off to kindergarten). But it’s not like that. I think back to those days in the hospital. Coming back home, my desire to disappear, the fear I saw in my husband’s eyes. I remember the first time I went to my parents’ house, the house where I grew up, the place I left but always came back to. The hug with my mom.
This is the effect of autumn on me. A veil of sadness. Then everyone tells you, ‘you’re courageous, you’re strong, you’ve faced worse’… People talk because they don’t know what it’s like, because going deaf in two days can’t be explained. Because undergoing heavy chemotherapy for an autoimmune disease can’t be explained. Because rehabilitation, not understanding, being enclosed in a bubble of safety can’t be explained. The fear of speaking, of people looking at you, of someone asking, ‘do you understand? do you hear what I’m saying?’, it’s always a stab to the heart, even when it’s done with the noblest intentions.
I’ve never liked autumn. It starts getting cold, you don’t know how to dress, it’s damp, and your hair is unruly. The time changes, so by three in the afternoon, it’s dark.
I feel sorry for autumn, but it’s not my season. Mine is summer, fall. I always think of my summers in the countryside, sleeping with the window wide open, trying to catch a bit of nighttime breeze to breathe.
Autumn doesn’t have a good effect on me. I want to hibernate
