Sometimes options aren’t an option

So lately people have been asking me why I don’t want a cochlear implant.  Since hearing aids can’t help me that much, why wouldn’t I want to take the next logical step?  That’s a very reasonable question.  But at the end of the day I’m  the one who would have to go through the surgery with all the risks.  I’d have to live with a wire hanging out of my head for the rest of my life and a big appliance on my ear, have to learn a whole new way of ‘hearing’ on top of recovering from all that surgery, and turn my life upside down.  All that when I’m okay the way I am.  I’m not just coping with hearing loss, I’m living with it.  As in living, having a life, functioning, having fun.  So why change things on the chance something might be better, give up all that time it would take to do, risk my health and well being and go through the risk of it not working out?

 

I know people mean well and they probably have the right idea for many late deafened people. Especially those who are educated about hearing loss.  It’s the non clinical personal aspect that they can only imagine – that part isn’t in the medical books or pamphlets.  For most people, a cochlear implant is probably the answer they’ve been looking for.  For me, it’s scary, major and complicated.  (Hey, I never said I flow in the same direction as the rest of the river.   And just so you know, the Hudson River flows in both directions.)

 

I’m not a kid anymore. At this point in my life, I would have to go through too many changes to get somewhere that might not be the place for me to be.  I’d never be able to go back to where I am now, so if it didn’t work, I’d be really messed up.  Why rock the boat as long as it’s sailing?  Maybe not sailing as well as a Donzi can run, but I’m getting where I have to go.  I’m enjoying the journey without worrying about a specific destination.  That’s enough for me right now.

Irony is ironic

So here’s the deal.  I used to have perfect hearing and I had good balance.  They both went at the same time.  You see, I have Meniere’s Syndrome and though it can make you feel like someone put you in a blender, it doesn’t usually take all your hearing.  I, however, am special.  I’m what they call “atypical.”  Over a period of time, it took all my hearing, starting with my speech understanding.

 

It was a big adjustment but I learned to cope.  Things were going along splendidly – well as splendidly as they can for someone who used to have perfect hearing and now can’t hear a thing – until I got new hearing aids almost a year ago.  My former ones were obsolete and on their last legs.  For all the non-technical readers, that means old and crappy.  They outlived their expected life span. They were no longer top of the line. Heck, they weren’t even bottom of the line. They were finished, kaput, useless.  But oh yeah, keep them for backup, they told me.

 

So I got the new hearing aids and this has been the most miserable “hearing” year of my life.  My brand new Starkey Destiny Hearing Aids have been in for repair more times than I can count.  They’ve each been replaced only to have the same exact problems.  They are garbage.  Starkey should be ashamed, but that’s another blog.  Now they’re going in for repair again because they keep cutting out, the volume disappeared, and the audiologist left out a full program on the one they just replaced.  Go figure. They’re the most expensive hearing aids I ever had.  And I hate them, I hate Starkey and I’m not too thrilled with the audiology department at the hospital either.

 

Anyway, what do you think I’m wearing?  Yup, the old obsolete ones.  Amazingly, the sound doesn’t cut out, the volume is there and they still have some life in them.  But they’re not the newest technology.  They’re more like an old four engine plane instead of a nice sleek jet.  But they still work whereas the new ones don’t.  How’s that for irony?

Yoo hoo, hearing… where are you?

So some of you may not know me and maybe you’re wondering why you shouldn’t keep going.  What can this person have to say that would make me care what she blogs about?  I’ll answer simply and honestly.  I don’t know.

But I hope you’ll give this blog a chance because I think my perspective on life can be interesting, boring, funny, sad, intelligent, dumb, logical, quirky, and anything else I can’t think of right now.

Why am I blogging?  Because I’m a writer and writers need to write.  I’m also a late deafened writer and late deafened writers need to communicate.

Come back soon and come back often.  I hate talking to myself.

(Contact me at info@lostmyhearing.com)