"Hi, I'm a Defective Person!"; and, some good news
Finally, finally got an email today about the consult with the surgeons. It will be the third week of February. AUGH! I am trying to be patient, I really am. Now the surgeons must also concur that I am a good candidate for implant, this time from a physiological/neurological perspective. I keep worrying that there is one of these hoops which I am not going to make it all the way through.
Was thinking to myself this morning... you know what I hate about being deaf? Having to start almost every single conversation by giving out very personal information about myself, labeling myself. "Hi, I'm handicapped." "Hi, I'm broken." "Hi, I'm a potential problem."
Of course, what I say is "Hi, I'm deaf, and..." but I also know what they hear and what it feels like I'm saying. "Hi, I'm defective" must be the first or second thing out of my mouth to everyone from the doctor's receptionist, to the guy I'm ordering from at McDonald's, to the man whose doggie ran up and sniffed me in the park. Most people don't need to formally announce their disability as the very first words they say upon meeting someone because it's either a) obvious or b) irrelevant. Going deaf is in many ways an incredibly personal and painful thing, yet I blurt it out to strangers four, five, six times a day. I am really growing to hate it, not to mention longing for the days when I didn't have to plan every interaction with a new person like it was a low-level military op which I performed naked.
I am not even going to tell you how it feels when they say, "Oh! What happened?" and smile at you expectantly. Sorry, lady, my life's painful blows are not fodder for your salacious interest or even idle curiosity, and, besides, I left the dog and pony in the car.