I failed. First time ever. Okay so not a pass/fail kind of thing, but still, it felt horrible. Tears brimmed my eyes. I held it together. Until I got to the car. Flood gates opened. Out rushed years of frustration and pain, heartache over what’s to come. Mumbles my husband could vaguely comprehend.
A hearing test. Over the years my hearing has stayed relatively the same. A happy medium I like to say. For the first time, since I can recall, I dipped. More than a few dB s. Five to ten dB s to be exact, across the scale.
For the first time in my life, I obsessed how long I’ll have hearing my daughter’s ridiculous laugh, M’s sweet stories, little man’s hilarious ramblings, or my husband’s lovely “sirdspukite”. Looking back I went to the deep end, I know. However, I cherish my limited hearing.
What’s next I asked Cari, my super cool audiologist. Her diagnosis? New hearing aids. Cough, cough, swallow deep. What’s that going to run me, I asked. $3000-3400. Yikes!! More deep breaths. A piece she punches in. Whoa, I silently gagged. Sure my insurance will pay about $1500 a piece. Do the math. $6800 – 3000 insurance = $3800 out-of-pocket. Yeah, we have it, but it is set aside for the eventually, hopefully sale of house one. Or when our 13-year-old, no payment van reaches its final days. It’s there and I do not like to touch it, ever.
The temporary solution was to beef up my current daily dependencies. I bought some time without paying a dime. But the capabilities of these aids has almost been reached.
Next stop, the ENT. Something must be wrong. No, I know my outlook. Irreparable nerve damage.
If only I could put the positive part of losing to being down 5-10 pounds.