a somewhat traumatic day in iowa city has left me exhausted, overwhelmed, a little not quite myself.
it was a pleasant drive up there through the fall cornfields, and i was looking forward to having my cochlear implant turned on, or activated, through a process where they would measure my hearing and make its settings appropriately. i've come to like the hospital as it has a lot of very nice art and people are very friendly and in the nature of iowa in general. i had every reason to be in a good mood.
but the first step was a cat scan, about noon, and i went into this room, took out my hearing aids and glasses, and laid down on their bed for them to scoot me back so my head was in this kind of radiation container. so far so good. i shut my eyes and let them measure my head.
but when i got out and put my hearing aids back in, nothing. absolute silence. i jiggled them a little, turned them off and on, nothing. it was dead silent.
now at that point, waiting for the activation in the left, i had almost nothing in the left anyway. the right had about 20% and that's what i was counting on. but i had nothing and it was a very scary feeling.
they told me i was about to see the audiologist (true) and they would straighten it out - they eventually did, and it wasn't bad - but in the meantime i got a cup of coffee in total silence, and the worker said a few words to me which i entirely missed. people know when you just miss what they say, and usually they just let it happen. it's too much trouble to go back and shout in your face. but that's what i would have needed.
i jiggled them again at the table, and this time, with my coffee, i got something out of the right one. had it simply been de-activated by the cat-scan room? or had i lost a filter (possible?) - or, had the cat scan melted all the wax in my ears and settled it in so nothing else could get in there?
still don't know, but i was entirely traumatized. although total deafness is not the end of the world, at this point it represents one of my deep fears and it is, after all, what i'm going all the way up there in order to avoid. it's like the exact opposite outcome of what i'd wanted. and i know lots of people live just fine with total deafness every day, day in, day out. but i couldn't take twenty minutes of it.
today, sitting around, marketing, somewhat depressed. i need life to get back to a natural rhythm.
it was a pleasant drive up there through the fall cornfields, and i was looking forward to having my cochlear implant turned on, or activated, through a process where they would measure my hearing and make its settings appropriately. i've come to like the hospital as it has a lot of very nice art and people are very friendly and in the nature of iowa in general. i had every reason to be in a good mood.
but the first step was a cat scan, about noon, and i went into this room, took out my hearing aids and glasses, and laid down on their bed for them to scoot me back so my head was in this kind of radiation container. so far so good. i shut my eyes and let them measure my head.
but when i got out and put my hearing aids back in, nothing. absolute silence. i jiggled them a little, turned them off and on, nothing. it was dead silent.
now at that point, waiting for the activation in the left, i had almost nothing in the left anyway. the right had about 20% and that's what i was counting on. but i had nothing and it was a very scary feeling.
they told me i was about to see the audiologist (true) and they would straighten it out - they eventually did, and it wasn't bad - but in the meantime i got a cup of coffee in total silence, and the worker said a few words to me which i entirely missed. people know when you just miss what they say, and usually they just let it happen. it's too much trouble to go back and shout in your face. but that's what i would have needed.
i jiggled them again at the table, and this time, with my coffee, i got something out of the right one. had it simply been de-activated by the cat-scan room? or had i lost a filter (possible?) - or, had the cat scan melted all the wax in my ears and settled it in so nothing else could get in there?
still don't know, but i was entirely traumatized. although total deafness is not the end of the world, at this point it represents one of my deep fears and it is, after all, what i'm going all the way up there in order to avoid. it's like the exact opposite outcome of what i'd wanted. and i know lots of people live just fine with total deafness every day, day in, day out. but i couldn't take twenty minutes of it.
today, sitting around, marketing, somewhat depressed. i need life to get back to a natural rhythm.
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