Things I Have Learned Today

Here are things I have learned today after spending six hours in the car, one hour with a dear friend, and four hours with my favorite otologist ever:

1. My hearing loss is a "major medical emergency."

2. My NSHL (Neuro Sensal Hearing Loss) is profound.

3. According to my audiologist's conversation with the receptionist, my report looks, "so bad." She was totally stoked about my awful results and wanted everyone to know that she got the deafest girl of the day--I think she forgot I had one good ear and could hear EVERY SINGLE WORD SHE SAID!

4. According to my audiologist's conversation with the good Dr. Fred Owens, my hearing loss is, "really, really bad." (this was outside the door--again, I think she forgot I can hear in one ear!)

5. I can only hear 4% of spoken language in my left ear--rock on. There is no clarity there.

6. I can't hear the high notes of Bohemain Rhapsody in either ear (like when they sing: "Galileo! Galileo!" but I can hear "Galileo Figaro!" This freaks me out, because I thought my right ear was all good--and apparently, they are waiting to share the happy news that I am losing hearing in both ears with me at a later date.

7. After the steroid shot I got into my inner ear today (after they bored a hole through my ear drum . . yum . . .), and the two more I get to have next Tuesday and Thursday, I have a 60% chance of fully regaining my hearing. I didn't listen for the other percentages--as soon as I heard there was a 1% chance, I was ready for the stupid shots! I've had a miracle before, and by gum, I know I can have another one!

8. There is something about having the door closed in the audiologist's booth that makes me cry every single time. Don't know what it is. The headphones on my ear. Listening for beeps that I know I won't be able to process, or feeling locked into a sound proof room, but it's bad . . and they need to have a box of Kleenex in there for saps like me.

9. The song "Because He Lives" especially when sung by Kristin Chenoweth, makes me weep. It played as I was turning onto the Baylor Hospital campus (I keep my IPod on random so I never know what's coming next--love the surprise element of that) and I just absolutely lost it when I listened to the beautiful words. Want it to be a song at my funeral--just for future info in about, I don't know, 60 years or so . . .

10. I can't get my ear exposed to water for the next six weeks--which means, no pool, no showers, etc. unless I have "a cotton ball smothered in Vaseline" in there. Ewwww . . .I'm going to Walgreens to buy me some earplugs tomorrow.

11. The Shack is a book worth reading. I know because I've been working on it all week long, which says a lot. I read Mrs. Kimble Sunday afternoon--yes--Sunday afternoon. But The Shack--it's making me think. Which is really good. Especially when I have to lay completely still on my left side for an hour while my inner ear absorbs the steroids . . . .

12. I really hope and pray and want a miracle so that I can hear my children's voices as they grow, the cries of my grandbabies, and the gurglings of my great-grandbabies. There is a huge amount of longevity in my family (Gran til 95, Granny's mom til 92, Meme is still kicking at 97, my dad's granddaddy was chasing rabbits at 88, and I could go on) and I desperately want to be able to hear the sounds, precious expressions, cries, and laughter of my loved ones in the years to come.

12. God is good. I am tremendously blessed. I have an amazing family, some extremely worried and precious friends, and everything working on my body but one stupid ear . . . which, given the possibility of things, isn't all bad.