Well, things haven’t been working out exactly as we hoped.  The new hearing aids came in and it turns out they were only great in the audiologist’s sound proof room.  Out in the real world, they’re pretty much useless to me.  They’re probably fabulous for other people; I can see that the features are wonderful, they work beautifully and they do what they’re supposed to do.  But my hearing is too far gone for me to benefit from them. The hearing aids are wonderful – I’m the problem.  What’s that old line? It’s not you, it’s me.  And it’s really me.  I’m not happy with me right now.

I didn’t want to try the new hearing aids at first. Everyone told me they’re my only other option besides the Starkey aids and I was afraid if these don’t work, I’ll have no options and that will be the end of my hope.  Well, the Starkey aids have been so unreliable, I didn’t want to think this was it forever.

The Phonak aids have great features and so many improvements, even a nifty remote control that let me do more with them than the switch on the aid itself.  It was time.  I’ve been doing so poorly with the Starkey aids – they were breaking all the time  even after being replaced and fixed (several times on the repairs) and they still beep and cut out for no reason.  The idea of being stuck with them forever was depressing so I agreed to try the Phonaks.

There is a three month trial, but I don’t think I’ll make it the whole way. It’s just too uncomfortable.  I keep hoping with each day that passes, I’ll get more used to them and things will improve, but so far it hasn’t happened.  Disappointment is an understatement.

This is what I was afraid of.  That I’d try the only other option and it wouldn’t work for me.  Then I would be stuck with the Starkey aids I hate so much until there’s no point wearing them, either.  I’m almost at that point – they’ve been talking about a cochlear implant for awhile now, but I’m just not ready to consider that.  I’ve researched it as thoroughly as I can and right now, it’s not for me.

I’ll fight for every second more I can get out of any hearing aids, no matter how little they do, no matter how bad they might be.  I’ll fight for every drop of sound I can get.  I may be down, but I’m not out.

The unknown.  A little exciting, a little scary, a little challenging. That’s what it’s going to be like for me next week when I get my (tada) new hearing aids.  Bye bye Starkey. Bye bye cutting out, random beeps, and frequent repairs.  New audiologist gave me a demo of a different hearing aid today and it was great!  It wasn’t even the one I’m going to get – it was a less powerful model and I’m getting the most powerful model!

Only one was programmed at all similarly to my needs, but even without my precise program, without the extra power, without being the exact right one, there was an improvement right away.  It’ll need fine tuning but I’m very optimistic that it’s going to work for me.  If not, that’s what trial periods are for, but I’m thinking positively!

What’s really a shame is that even though the Government of Ontario pays something towards new hearing aids, I can’t get a cent.  It has to be three years or a change in your needs.  I’m only at two and a half years and I don’t have enough hearing to begin with, for them to accept that my needs have changed. They won’t pay unless it’s three years and they don’t care what the problem or reason is.  I could wait another six months or so to get them, and thus, the government allowance, but that’s six months more of suffering.  The Government of Ontario may not care about me (yay public health care) but luckily, I have a wonderful husband who does, and next Friday at this time, the new hearing aids will be in my ears.

The new hearing aids can’t give me real hearing, but they’ve sure given me hope.

Unbelievable. I’m not done.  I was reading my previous posts, feeling a need to edit – a comma here, a comma there, a little off track – ah but it’s a blog.  It comes out of my head straight through my hands and again, I digress.  I realized there were a few things I said I’d tell you about in another post.

First, an update on the cooking situation.  Though several people close to me believe it’s time for an intervention, my husband, kids and some friends I’ve cooked for are not in favor.  It appears I have a knack for this, though I have no knack for not sounding stupid about it sometimes.  For instance, I probably shouldn’t have blurted out, “You can make whip cream with a whisk?  I just figured it was invented after electricity.”  Ok, in fairness, I do remember my mother’s egg beater, but I really didn’t know you could use a whisk.

I also now know, that if you don’t have basil and your husband doesn’t really want to run out and get some, you can use thyme and it won’t ruin your herb roasted potatoes.  Up until a few weeks ago, I didn’t know what herb roasted potatoes were.  Now, among other things,  I’ve made real New York cheesecake, lobster tails, pan broiled fish with garlic and red peppers (cut them myself don’tcha know!); I even baked a real French baguette.  (Just between us, that could have been a little better.  It tasted great but it was a little heavy.)

In cooking class we learned many little tips and basic techniques to make cooking better and safer.  And that brings me back to a previous post where I mentioned the emergency room.  I never went for the burns – they didn’t seem that urgent.  But the encounter with the Cuisinart blade (almost passed out for that one) and then the one with the big Chef’s knife, required visits.

In Toronto, the wait was so long the hospital suggested a walk in clinic.  The wait was long there too, but I did get medical attention.  No stitches, but a tetanus shot.  Which got infected and made me sick for several days.  Cost:  $ Nothing. Time:  Several hours   Health:  Plenty

The Chef’s knife incident was in New York and luckily we were only a block from the hospital.  We walked over with my finger wrapped in paper towels that were rapidly changing color, and I was fast tracked and taken within a few minutes.  Two nurses got me started – the usual blood pressure, name, history, etc.,  and then they took me into the examining room.  A woman came in wearing a white coat and being the hip, modern woman I am, not to mention incredibly brave, I asked in what handsome hubby says was a pitiful voice, “are you going to hurt me?”  “No,” she said, “but the doctor probably will.”  So she wasn’t the doctor after all.  When he came in, he was a lovely young man from… drum roll please … Montreal, Canada.  I don’t want you to faint so let’s just say there was a really big needle, stitches were involved, and there was a lot of conversation about the health care system in both countries.

I was in and out in less than 45 minutes, I had wonderful care, I had (for a thumb, keep in mind) a bandage wrapped around the whole thumb, crossing over my hand, and looked like I demolished a car, but I was home fast enough to continue cooking dinner and we ate on time.  The pain was still being suppressed by the shot.  All in all, not that bad.  (Except for the shot of course, but that went fast.)  Ten days later they took the stitches out and today you can’t even tell anything happened.

Cost: $ Nothing –  it was an emergency so our supplementary private insurance reimbursed us  Time: 45 minutes the first time, almost an hour the second time getting the stitches out, but there had been a serious emergency they were tied up with  Health: No effect

What’s this got to do with hearing, you may wonder?  Nothing really. That’s the beauty – my hearing loss isn’t always an active part of my life.