I wrote a version of this blog this morning. It was eloquent, well written and just so funny. It got deleted. Thanks for nothing technology! So I am here again to give you none of the wit and all of the meaning. Okay, maybe some of the wit, but I spent so much of it in the last draft, I can’t promise you wit at this stage of this Sunday.
Before I get into the plagues of losing your hearing slowly and with full awareness of every change let me just catch you up on my week, which, all things considered was not as bad as it could have been. I decided to do a detox, and on day 1 (well the end of day 1) I puked so hard. SO HARD. I am not sure if I recaught the flu from myself or if I was allergic to the shakes and bars and I’ll be honest, sort of not willing to eat them again to find out. Just no. Why? Because I looked like this:and I slept here: It was uncomfortable and after 2 days of no food, relative shakiness and intense bitchiness (I’ll claim this was caused by my sickness) I came up with what I think is a genius plan for the future. At least the forseeable future. You see, I spent the better part of the last few months trying desperately to control everything. To find the right answer, like somehow, if I willed myself hard enough I would figure out how to go into this and have no side effects. To have it be a blip on the radar that no one notices. That’s not real life. What is real life is not being able to control everything but learning how to enjoy what you’ve got. So, even with something as small as diet, I am going to eat like nobody’s business. It is going to be good. I am going to be sooooooooooooooo happy. Proof? I bought 1% milk instead of skim AND to add to the adventure I bought yogurt with fruit on the bottom! FRUIT! That’s right, you heard me.
Ugh, you heard me. I can’t hear you. Not really anyway. I’m going to explain my new found desire to have everyone look me directly in the face when they are talking with a situation I think most people in the Western, developed, technologically connected world can relate to. You know those moments where you are on the phone and someone says something and right as they do they cut out? Or even worse they put their fat thumb over the speaker and you can’t hear them? You say, “Hey pal, sorry to make you repeat yourself, because that would be the absolute worst thing ever, but I didn’t catch what you said, do you mind repeating it?” So they do and DRAT! you miss it! Shit. It’s a bit awkward but you ask again, “Super sorry bud, but I missed it again, one more time, service must be bad.” So they do and WTF the phone cuts out. AGAIN. What. Maybe they are just a mumbler. Maybe they are playing a trick on you. Maybe they should send it in a text if it is that important. It’s a bit embarrassing but you say, “Hey, so one more time, give it to me again dear friend!” Despite all your attempts to smooth over the lack of ability to hear with patronizing synonyms for friend, they have gotten annoyed. How can you tell? Though you can’t understand that mumblers words, you can get their tone. There are a couple of things you can do at this point… hang up. Opps! Bad Reception! You can give a canned response like, “OH REALLY!” or “Oh? Really??” or “Oh! Reaaaallllyyy….” Or if you are feeling extra ballsy you can just make a statement. Declarative and straight forward like, “I completely agree with you, you radiant genius of a human being!” Or you can flip it the other way, “HOW DARE YOU DEAR SIR!” Either way, you gotta do something, or ask for a fourth repeat, then they’ll hang up but you won’t be offended because you won’t hear it click. Clean out your damn ears. That’s what a lot of my conversations are like. But I can’t blame the service or call back when reception is better. I just can’t hear. I can hear a lot, just not everything, especially not in a crowd, it’s hard on the phone and if you are sitting on my right side? Move. I can’t hear you if the TV is on and you are talking and I get kinda mad about it. Not at you. Just in general. I can’t hear you. I might agree or nod or frown or squint but that should not be taken to mean understanding. It’s not. I don’t understand you! I can’t hear you. Or maybe, just maybe you haven’t told me what I want to hear yet.
We hear what we want to right? Maybe this is my body and my hearts defense against bad news, conflict, disagreement, uncertainty. Maybe it is my way of dissociating from the startling reality that my vision of my world is not a practical vision of my real life. It had to change. All of it. Not just because of Herbert. I mean, he is an asshole, but he is an asshole that wouldn’t exist without me. He’s part of me and I decide what I do with what I’ve been given. Yea, I mean Herbert moved in without consent and he does block my ear canal and is quite rude about intercepting my previously well heard messages but he was raised that way. The cells that divided into him never taught him right from wrong. Some cell’s divisions, I tell ya. But really, I can still think, I can still feel and most days, minus the headaches and the tinnitus, I can hear. But I don’t always know, understand or accept what is being said.
Overall it’s been a pretty good week. I had a few moments of why me, woe is me, why can’t you just fix it and one pretty substantial but short-lived cry fest at a concert when the box office told me I had no tickets and I couldn’t hear what was being said and some drunk but lovely women had to come translate the English being spoken into louder English into my left ear. I had a moment of well crap this is what it is like not hearing, but then I heard the music and dried my tears on my scarf and listened to The Killers with all of me. I felt better, I let myself go with the music and then, then there was confetti and fire works, so all in all, a good night. So the point? The point is that though I may not always be able to hear you, or understand you or maybe sometimes I’m just not ready to hear you. I am listening. I am listening with my whole heart. I’m also trying with everything in me. to confront my fears and just live. Take that Herbert. Jerk.
Peace and love – Samira