I have an odd reaction to distressing events sometimes, I think. It’s like once they pass a certain threshold, my psyche just doesn’t know what to do with them anymore. Someone could tell me that my faucet was leaking, and I’d be like “Gaaaaaaah! Why me?? Why today???” Someone could tell me my whole house had burnt down, and I’d be like “Oh. …Do you have any Fritos?” Some things are just too big and too unchangeable not to just be accepted more or less.
I got Fritos-grade news a couple of days ago. I spent about a week a few months ago with this intense ringing in my ears, and I’ve had the sneaking suspicion since then that my hearing might be worse. Or maybe not so much a sneaking suspicion as a very large and slightly drunk suspicion with geese on its feet. There has been a lot of “huh?” and “what?” and “can you repeat that once I’m off the toilet?” around these parts.
Anyway, I went to see an audiologist on Tuesday, prepared to hear that there had been a slight drop in my hearing, and motivated to jump all over finding out what caused it. To be honest, I was sort of hoping to hear something to that effect, as I was certain enough that it had to be either my hearing or my mind that I was losing. And I still use my mind now and then. What I was not prepared to hear was that I had around forty percent hearing loss, and lets talk about hearing aids, and look they come in pretty colours like Fuchsia and Bread Mold Green.
Forty percent??! And I can still communicate relatively normally? Did I have some extra unnecessary hearing I was carrying around? Was I born with the window seat of hearing? The freshly grated parmesan? The little bow on the front of a bra in the world of listening to things? Admittedly, I have a heck of a time watching TV these days. I get the drift, but half the time when something funny or dramatic seems to happen I have to ask my husband what it was. But still… You’d barely notice if you met me. It’s not something it would occur to you to comment on.
Or you might, but I wouldn’t hear the comment anyway, so it hardly counts, now does it?
So…yes. I have Moderate Hearing Loss. Basically the parts of my ear that perceive volume and vowel sounds are perfectly fine, but some of the parts for distinguishing consonants are a bit lacking now. …Which means I can’t tell you the lyrics to a song to save my life, but damned if I can’t do a good rendition like a retarded kid.
(Generally I try to avoid that type of statement. That was low. And potentially offensive. But also true.)
Good points: Apparently not all hearing aids look like those giant beige extra ears that I remember grandmothers wearing.
Low points: My step-father now wants to ship up the giant beige extra ear that his now-deceased mother “almost never wore.” Ummm…
(I tried to explain that ew, and that also she may not have needed the same kind of corrections I do. He’s determined, though. It was an easier-to-just-say-thank-you moment)
And as a nice little cherry on the fluffy badness, hearing aids to compensate for my problem should set me back around $2000-$5000 or more out of pocket. ?!?? I should check the fine print on our insurance. I’m sure there’s got to be something in there. If I do end up getting some eventually, I bet it will totally be like those “there are leaves on trees??” moments that people who got glasses talk about. I’m sure that my brain has learned to adjust and compensate in a lot of ways, but there’s got to be a lot out there that I’m not taking in fully. Loudly, but not fully.
So I ate a lot of questionable McDonalds food products on Tuesday (which were kind of gross, by the way. Damned improved eating habits have ruined my ability to gorge for comfort), and have since slipped into a sense of false apathy about the whole thing. I can tell that it’s bothering me, as I’ve been extra grumpy, and extra bored, and extra apathetic about any number of other unrelated things. I’m not quite ready to deal with it head on, though, I think. I need some time to wrap my head around it. And to try not to think about the fact that since they don’t know what caused it, there’s nothing really saying it couldn’t happen again. I feel low, and kind of numb, and I don’t really want to do anything at all (which is why I kind of sort of haven’t written here yet this week. …Sorry).
Oh, and as the syrupy red nasty sugar goo around the cherry on the fluffy badness, my husband is going to be working crazy late hours for the next week or so (including the weekend), so I’m sort of on my own in working through all this.
In good news, I got my doctor to agree to refer me to a different psychiatrist. On the down side, she said I need to keep seeing Dr. Douche until the new one pans out. …And I’m not 100% sure that doesn’t mean that I now have to take the over-the-top medications he was insisting on or risk being reported as “non-compliant with recommended treatment” to my insurance. Ugh. I’m not sure how much diplomacy I have left in me either. Do you think it would hurt my case for not needing sedatives if I sank my teeth into his nose?
And if so, how much?
Because if there’s a chance that I could get away with it, I may have to consider…
As a plus to all of this, I spent the remainder of Tuesday reading the Harry Potter book that was a prize from the lovely Sarah P. No, I hadn’t read them yet. Yes, I’m from Earth. No, not a cave-like part. I just…hadn’t gotten around to them. It was fun. I think I may pick up the others to devour over the coming days. Many, many thanks to Sarah (who by the way drew a very appropriate and not at all penis-related stick figure drawing on the card). Now that’s the kind of restraint I need.
Tags: cave-like parts, health, hearing, psychiatrist, stress
Do they know WHY you have hearing loss??
What IfByYes said. (??)
Nope. That’s the part that makes it extra fun.
I was really late to the Harry Potter bus myself. It was worth it though. They’re good books once you get past the first two. And I’m not saying the first two aren’t good because they ARE so don’t send me hate mail Harry Potter Freaks, it’s just that they later ones are better.
Oh, and that sucks about your hearing loss.
But good about the psychiatrist! The potential new one I mean. I say run from the douche as fast as you can!
Enjoy Harry Potter! You don’t need your hearing for that. I love those books. The whole series is fun.
So is reading your blog.
“..the little bow on the front of a bra in the world of listening to things..” Too funny.
I liked the bra bow comment, too! Am I just copying Zannah? Didn’t I like what she liked last time? I need to get my own identity.
Dang, hearing aids are expensive! Can’t you try that Miracle Ear thingy?
Welcome to the world of hearing loss. You are NOT alone. We are the largest group of people with a disability, and also the most misunderstood. I encourage you to check out websites that help people with hearing losses. Also, realize that hearing aids are just that, aids. They are not corrective like glasses, and will not solve all your hearing issues, but will be a huge help in communicating in most situations. Think about times when you will not be wearing them, (sleeping, showering, etc.) Or noisy areas where they might not be very useful unless you get very nice expensive ones with all the bells and whistles. And products that you might need to keep you alerted to things going on. (Flashing smoke alarms for example.) Consider joining a support group such as Hearing Loss Association or Late Deafened Association. There are chapters all over. Good luck getting insurance to pay for your aids, only about 20% do. They are also not classified as durable medical equipment, and medicare does not cover them either. And tell your stepfather to donate the used aid to his local Lions club. Most of them recycle aids for needy people, like they do glasses. Take care!
Yay! I’m glad you liked it!
I haven’t had my hearing checked, because I’m pretty sure I’m in the same boat.
notquiteawake – Now you’ve intrigued me. Must…get…other…books…
Zannah – I’ve never figured out why that little bow is apparently so important that it shows up on just about every bra. Is it holding the rest of it together somehow? Is there engineering involved that I’m missing?
Wombat – I’m kind of a fan of the identity that seems to like my blog.
I may be biased…
Michigan – Thank you for your comment and suggestions. I still feel very much “average” in my daily life and interactions. I think it may be a difficult transition to see myself as someone with Hearing Loss with capital letters like that. My brain’s still working on it.
Sarah P – I did, very much. Thank you! Though I’m going to be trying extra hard to win something else now. I totally want a penis card. …Or maybe just one giant animated testicle.
And it’s good to hear I’m not alone in the loss and denial.