01/04/2009: Thomas Yates from Rhodes, Greece writes: "TINNITUS
THE CURSE OF THE GODS.

First of all I would like to state that I'm not religious so why did I title this 'The curse of the gods'?

The best way to explain is to start at the beginning, I was one of nine children although one of my brothers died at a very early age. I didn't know him as I was born afterwards. I had five brothers and two sisters and my earliest thoughts were making sure I took care of myself, No one else seemed to care. We had a mother that didn't give a damn except that she had a good time so taking care of ourselves while she was out boozing seemed the norm. We never seemed to get on in the early days and fighting with each other was the course of a normal day, Stealing a slice of bread and putting dripping on it then swearing to god it wasn't you who stole it. I learnt very early to finish any food that was given had to be eaten very quickly before my brothers finished theirs and decided they were still hungry and steal mine.

If mother ever came in and caught us being naughty she would demand we line up then she would use the buckle side of a belt on us all. It didn't matter how you protested your innocence or the fact that you were genuinely innocent. I still have scars on my left shin where I had to go the hospital for stitches.

My father or who I thought to be my true father at the time was totally opposite I can never remember him actually raising his hand to any of us. I do remember running home from school and arriving home early, to see mother all flustered on the settee and up popped this guy from the back saying to me that he was my uncle Jim and it was a surprise. I was to tell no one of our little secret. (Later I found out through one of my brothers that Jim was my true father) He could never replace my father who died twenty-eight years ago. I was very sad and distraught and remember the man was too good to go, he worked all his life and fought gallantly in the Second World War. He took early retirement from the mine at the age of sixty-two and never saw sixty-three. Why oh why did he have to go and the witch I knew as mother had the right to live. We have never spoken to each other ever since the funeral and I'm not sure if she's still alive.

My life began when I was nineteen and met my current wife Carole (Caz). We were married in 1975 and had a child named Shawn. Unfortunately he was born with a hole in his heart and died at the tender age of four months we were both totally devastated but luckily she caught on again very early and gave birth to another son called Tommie in 1977.

We both worked hard and after doing without luxuries for a long time we finally saved enough money to buy our council house. We stayed there for three years before we were able to sell it. We had decided a long time ago that we would live abroad and decided on Greece. After asking Tommie at the age of fifteen if he would like to move to Rhodes he jumped at the chance. We are a very close family and Tommie has all his good manners without me having to raise a finger on him. We lived in Rhodes for five years when Tommie suggested we get an Internet bar, our money from the house sale was dwindling quickly and we decided to go for it.

All was going well, money was coming in, instead of out and we started to save again. The weather over here is glorious in the summer without a cloud in the sky for months.

All went well for the next ten years. We had a house designed and built with a big garden for my new grandsons, Sean and Benjamin (Tommie married an Irish girl called Helen)

Then it all started to go wrong I seemed to get tired easily and had heartburn a lot when I ate. I asked my sister to fetch over some Gaviscon from England (There are still a lot of things you can't get over here). I took these on a regular basis for a couple of months and it seemed to ease the pain in my chest until November 2006. I awoke with the same feeling of indigestion so got dressed and went for a long walk. When I got back home I told Caz that I still felt like I wanted a big 'burp'. I jumped up and down and touched my toes a few times and then 'wow' my chest tightened so much. I told Caz I think I'm having a heart attack. She said don't be silly your right arm hurts and no sooner had she said it I got a pain in my hand. (Don't forget I'm not religious so why were the first words out of my mouth, 'Jesus Christ') After running around like a headless chicken thinking I am going to drop dead any moment we went to our local GP. Thankfully it was close by and went straight through his surgery into the doctors office and ignoring his patient he was dealing with went and lay on his bed. He knew immediately what was wrong with me and put a couple of tablets under my tongue. Which after a couple of moments eased the pain, he asked if my son drove when I said yes. He asked Caz to phone him up and to come and take me to the hospital, which of course he did. On our way we were saying I couldn't have had a heart attack or he would have got an ambulance for me. When we arrived at the Hospital (in the town centre about a twenty-minute drive away). I went into the accident and emergency department and within no time at all they had me connected to a E.C.G machine and started to take blood when I had my second heart attack which was much stronger than the first one. They trollied me to the intensive care unit with my son and wife in tow. I was crying and thought they would never see me again when I went inside. After what seemed ages (probably ten minutes) they had got me settled and said they didn't want me to have visitors but because they were so upset they allowed Caz and Tommie to see me for a minute. The relief I had to see them again was short lived when I asked my son to lift the bed higher so I could see them properly. 'Bang'. At this point I would like to say I am no coward to pain. I once had ingrowing toenails that were giving me gyp for several months so I nicked my big toenails on either side with clippers to form a wick. I then gritted my teeth took the pliers and yanked the nail out on both sides but after the bleeding stopped they were cured. I added this for you to understand that third attack was ten times more painful. Everyone was ushered out of the intensive care unit and I was told later that my heart had stopped for seven seconds. I remember asking if I was going to die and the doctor told me that if I hadn't been where I was I would have. Now I know why my local GP told me to take me by car it saved twenty minutes, which would have meant I would not be here typing my experiences down for you to read. I made a mental note to thank my GP for saving my life the next time I saw him.

Lying in my ward recouping from my experience and waiting to go to Athens for an operation. I noticed a little humming noise in my head. It wasn't loud and was easy to ignore it, so I let it go without saying anything to the doctors. After ten days I was flown to Athens for an angiograph which revealed I had a blocked artery and a stent was fitted.

After coming back home just over two years ago I have had no problems with my heart so far. And on the tread mill all seemed fine. Although there is a downside, I have to take medication for the rest of my life. I have never been one for taking pills. I hit fifty years of age in October 2006 and by December 2006 I had recovered from three heart attacks and I felt fine except for the annoying hum had turned into a buzzing noise. Over the months it got louder and louder. I asked my doctor if there were any side effects with the tablets I was taking that could cause a buzzing noise in my head. He replied 'no'. I was dumbstruck because it only started when I came around in the ward and was sure it was a trivial matter of just adjusting the medication. Now I was worried what it could be, I asked my local GP what could be wrong with me. I described it was like standing underneath an electric pylon and the sound it gives out is the sort of frequency as what was in my head. He told me it could be Tinnitus, which I immediately looked up on the Internet. I discovered that it was a problem with the ears that can be caused by a severe trauma. Only my noise was in my head not my ears. The only way I can explain this is if the problem is in both ears then it's like when you put good music and headphones on you hear the music in the middle. Everything I read was very interesting. Buzzzzz. Try and put yourself in My Buzzzzzz place and imagine that there is no Buzzzzzz cure for this Buzzzzz annoying noise. I Buzzzzzz went to Buzzzzz a ear specialist and Buzzzzz had my ears syringed. It did no-Buzzzzz-thing to stop the buzzing sound. Buzzzzzzzz now that you have got irritated of all the Buzzes I have put in these last few lines, imagine. You can put this down and walk away. I unfortunately can't walk away from it. I scale it from a one to a ten. One being very low and ten unbearable. I'm typing at the moment at about a six. It does go as low as a four but very rarely less. When I am tired or fatigued it does go up to an eight or nine. I had it on a ten for about three days on a trot and I went to a neurologist. I broke down and cried for help to get rid of this noise that had by this time got very frustrating. He told me that antidepressants sometimes works in lowering the noise but I had to take them for six months for them to be effective that was three months ago and all the tablets have done for me is to make me feel constantly lethargic and tired. The buzzing has not lowered in the least. They say that suicide is a coward's way out. That can never be so far from the truth. I have two grandsons, a daughter, son and wife I dearly love, but I don't know how long I can live with this constant noise that's starting to send me crazy. 'NO CURE' In this day and age when almost the impossible can be done medical wise and they can't cure a little noise in the ears? I know I'm not the only one out there with this problem but I feel so lonely not being able to explain the frustrating condition to a total stranger that sees you look ok from the outside and doesn't understand the torture I am going through. I don't know how long I can put this act on without screaming aloud to the world STOP this buzzzzzing.

I don't think I have done anything wrong to deserve this torture so you try to put blame on anyone and anything. When it's bad the words that come to mind is 'good God please stop this torment' Just for ten minutes of peace and quiet. It's got so bad it wakes me up from my sleep at night. It can only be a curse of the Gods. If there is anyone out there that can genuinely help me please get in contact through my e-mail. Before I pluck up enough courage to end the Buzzzzzing noise for good. Thanks for reading this. Tom@tommiesbar.com"