Bauby tells us that one of the discomforts of his condition is its effect on his hearing. While his right ear is completely blocked off, his left ear “amplifies and distorts all sounds farther than ten feet away” (95). This means that the sound of TV ad morphs into the noise of a coffee mill drilling right next to his ear drum, the voices of hospital workers sound like those of “stockbrokers trying to liquidate their holdings”, and “a floor waxer sends out an auditory foretaste of hell”, despite his efforts to tell staff about his affliction (95-96). He recounts the story of a very young neighbor whose velveteen duck “emitted a reedy, piercing quack” on any of the numerous times that someone would enter their room. He humorously says that the patient went home before he could carry out a plan to kill the duck—although he keeps his scheme ready. He also recounts the story of a woman who awoke from a coma with dementia, who “bit nurses, seized male orderlies by their genitals, and was unable to request a glass of water without screaming ‘Fire!’” (96).

However, when “blessed silence” returns, Bauby is able to “listen to the butterflies that flutter inside [his] head” (97).