Why Undergo Ear Surgery Now to Repair a Small Hole in the Right Eardrum?
Anguish Before Surgery and Thoughts on Mortality
September 5, 2026, 10:30 am, 690 F (210C), sunny, pleasant morning
Almost all the essays in my book — My Journey with Sumi — were written in response to significant events in our lives. When such events occur, I write in the moment, reflecting on life-changing challenges. Channeling my thoughts and feelings through writing and sharing them gives me an outlet and helps me make connections in an otherwise solitary life. This essay captures my anguish as I reflected on various aspects of my life on the day of the surgery, especially because it was to be performed under general anesthesia.
On August 27, 2026, Dr. Shailesh Babu, an ear surgeon at the Michigan Ear Institute, successfully performed outpatient tympanoplasty at Henry Ford in Novi to repair a small perforation (about 3.0 mm, or 1/8 inch, in diameter) in my right eardrum.
Why Undergo Ear Surgery Now to Repair a Small Hole in the Right Eardrum?
I have been seeing Dr. Babu every year for the past 15 years. With normal aging, people lose about 1 decibel (dB) of hearing per year after age 60. After age 75, the loss is about 2 dB per year. Many factors contribute to this loss.
As I aged, I also lost hearing acuity, though at a slower rate than 1 dB per year. The hearing loss was more pronounced in my right ear, which had a small hole, than in my left ear, which was normal. Since the hole must have occurred many years ago, it was difficult to pinpoint the cause, but it was most likely due to an untreated ear infection in my younger days in India. In many cases, such a hole can occur when someone tries to clean the ear with a foreign object and damages the eardrum, or from a slap to the ear or a very loud blast (such as Diwali Champion firecrackers).
The hole has remained the same size over the years, so Dr. Babu did not recommend surgery to repair it. However, during my visit last year, we discussed the pros and cons of surgery. Dr. Babu told me that his success rate for this type of surgery is 95%. He performs about 10 such surgeries per week. He said that a successful surgery would improve hearing in my right ear by about 25% after 3 months. Also, if I do it now, I can enjoy better hearing for several years. He added that even if the surgery is not 100% successful, I could still retain my pre-surgery hearing level. He also said that drainage, dryness, itching, wax buildup, and other inconveniences would resolve because the fluid from the inner ear would no longer escape into the ear canal once the hole is plugged. I don’t have those issues in my left ear, which has a healthy eardrum.
With limited downside, it was an easy decision to proceed with the elective surgery, so I scheduled it for January 5, 2026. However, after my accident on January 1, 2026, and a long hospital stay, the surgery was canceled or postponed and ultimately rescheduled for August 27, 2026.
The night before the surgery, on August 26, my friend Tarun Raval picked me up, and I stayed at his home, about 10 minutes from the hospital. On the morning of the surgery, Falguni, Tarun’s wife, accompanied me to the hospital and helped me register for pre-surgery procedures at 10 am, which ran from 10 am to 12 pm. The surgery was scheduled from 12 pm to 1 p.m. under general anesthesia, with recovery from 1 pm to 2 pm and discharge around 3 pm.
I had the option to have Falguni stay with me in the pre-op room, but she was busy with many chores. I told her I would be fine alone and that the surgeon would call her after the surgery so she could pick me up afterward.
While I was in the pre-op room, a nurse helped me change into the surgical gown, took my vitals, reviewed my medications, checked for allergies, and obtained my consent for surgery. Then the anesthesiologist arrived and explained his role.
Later, a neurologist told me that during the surgery he would place electrodes on my lower lip and below my left eye to detect any unusual twitching. I presume they wanted to monitor for seizure activity during the surgery.
Anguish Before Surgery and Thoughts on Mortality (Death and Dying)
While quietly lying in the hospital bed, I contemplated the surgery, and my mind wandered as any engineer’s would. Why did a neurologist want to monitor me for a seizure? What would happen if a seizure occurred during the surgery? Would it further damage my brain, undoing all the progress I had made over the past eight months?
Secondly, before my surgery, Dr. Babu’s office repeatedly requested clearance from my neurologist and cardiologist to confirm that it was safe to administer general anesthesia for the procedure.
Then I started thinking. What if there were risks with the general anesthesia that could cause further damage to my brain, or that my whole body would be paralyzed? What if I didn’t wake up after the anesthesia following the surgery?
One thing I learned during the early years of caring for Sumi is that when she is anxious, agitated, or wants to do things her way, I should not argue but agree. She is not going to come into my world. I need to enter hers.
For example, if Sumi insists on having ice cream while I think she needs to eat her food first, do not tell her she cannot have it. The trick is to divert and redirect. Offer her a spoonful of ice cream, then switch to regular food. After eating a little ice cream, she would think her needs were met, and because of short-term memory loss, she would not even remember insisting on it later.
I started to think I needed to get out of my negative thoughts by diverting and deflecting myself. I started to think about spirituality and the slides from my presentation, where I cite Buddha’s teaching: everything is impermanent, and all living things decay and die. Someday I will decay (get sick) and die, so if I don’t wake up after the surgery, what’s the big deal? This may be a peaceful way to go.
I have lived a fulfilled life. I have accomplished things people dream of doing. Excellent health allowed me to care for Sumi for many years. I learned and evolved through caregiving by writing a book, producing an award-winning documentary, being profiled in national news media and on podcasts, advocating for Alzheimer’s, and supporting others. All my legal documents (Power of Attorney — Health Care and General — Will, Living Trust) are in order per my wishes and Sumi's wishes.
A happy, carefree childhood, a solid life, and the benefit of living in two countries and two distinct cultures to draw from and apply in my life. India taught me its belief system, philosophy, ethical values, cuisine, and art through dance, music, and movies. Living in the US, I have learned Yankee Ingenuity, which has instilled an attitude of inventive improvisation to overcome adversity, a pragmatic approach to problem-solving, and has honed the faculties of my left brain, such as logic, verbal, analytical, and linear thinking. Western culture has also taught me, most importantly, authenticity, a can-do attitude, and self-reliance.
On the other hand, there are unresolved conflicts that need to be addressed, but who has all their conflicts resolved at death? New conflicts always crop up. We are all entrapped in the Sansarik Maya (illusions, unfulfilled desires, and unmet expectations), which create conflicts in our minds.
Around that time, Dr. Babu entered the pre-op room and chatted with me. He was confident everything was set, that he was ready, and that the surgery would be successful. His confidence lifted my spirits. Soon I was wheeled into the operating room. I was positioned, and the anesthetist began administering medication through the IV in my right arm, telling me it would feel warm. I said, “That’s fine, no problem. I am ready.” Before I could say anything further, I slipped into a deep, thoughtless state and surrendered to the surgical team.
The next thing I knew, I was staring at the ceiling lights, my mind blank, watching nurses transport patients from one area to another. Then I realized my surgery was over and I was recovering. My nurse told me everything had gone well and that the surgery was successful. A few minutes later, Dr. Babu came to inform me that the surgery was successful and that I would be able to hear more.
I hope that as my hearing improves, I can learn to listen more closely.
PS:
Falguni was called by the nurse and allowed to come to where I was recovering. We left the hospital around 3 pm. She picked up my eardrops, the pain reliever Norco, and antibiotics from the hospital pharmacy, then went home. I had not drunk or eaten since midnight before the surgery. Falguni made her traditional masala chai and gave me khakhra (a crispy Gujarati snack, like a thin roasted roti) with ghee to go with the chai. It was a treat!
I felt full of energy. There was hardly any pain, though some blood from the ear was oozing out through the cotton ball placed in the ear. Their daughter, Shreya, who is a Physician Assistant, changed my dressing. I must have talked with them for a long time. We ate dinner around 7 pm. They dropped me off at home at 9 pm. It was a seamless day.
I couldn't sleep well that night. Too many thoughts were swirling in my mind. I got up and wrote down the major points I was thinking about on the whiteboard, so I wouldn’t keep thinking about them and they would be out of my mind. I wrote this essay today from those points.
Surgical Procedure
The ear doctor performs the procedure through the ear canal—no external scar. The doctor makes a one-centimeter incision along the edge of the tragal cartilage flap and removes a 6-8 mm piece. No visible deformity; the scar remains hidden. The cartilage is thinned to ∼0.3-0.5 mm (so it still vibrates). The doctor lifts the drum and places a tragal cartilage flap under the hole like a trapdoor patch. Surgical packing dissolves in 2 to 3 weeks. The drum heals in 6 to 8 weeks, after which a hearing test is conducted.