i went out to dinner with some of the other clearly crazy women who took on a role as a military man's counterpart.
i ended up asking pretty much everyone at the table how they met their man. the stories were REALLY interesting!! that's a truly unique thing to military life-- all the moving around gives you the opportunity to encounter a host of experiences and people that you would never otherwise have been exposed to.
and along that road, people often meet their spouses in some unexpected places.
like on a street corner. in fact, after this evening, i know TWO couples who met each other on a street corner. one was dared by a friend to talk to one of the men in those cute sailor uniforms, another decided to make a snide remark to a girl he walked past at an intersection.
the girl accepted the dare and has been married over 20 years.
the snide remark quickly turned into wedding vows.
i know someone who was at a bar with her girlfriends. a guy walked in, and a friend pointed him out and mentioned how cute he was. the (possibly intoxicated) girl said "i'm in love with him". they had never met.
they were married in less than a year.
one girl saw her husband for the first time in a dark theater and even then noticed how good looking he was. oddly, they figured out later, they became a couple on the exact same day as their first encounter, a year later.
there are a lot of horror stories in the military in terms of relationships. but there are so many AMAZING stories too. total chance, right place right time, situations that could never have happened if it weren't for the military's role in the life of one of the partners.
i would never have met my husband if it weren't for the military. and if not for the military, i wouldn't have two healthy little boys, comfortably provided for and cared for by a stay at home mom.
e comes home for 2 weeks pretty soon, his vacation from the deployment. and then he goes back to a slightly different job than he's been doing the last 4 months. where he's been has hindered our communication just a tad. where he's going is going to hinder it quite a bit. it's not going to be easy. and i know i'll curse the military more than once during this time, as i have more than once in the past.
but all in all, at the end of the day, there's a balance. there's joy, laughter, unity, grace, and hope. there are trials too, but that's true in every career, every walk of life, hm?
here's to all of the joy that has arisen because of the armed forces-- every street corner romance, every nourished mouth, every chance meeting of friends around the globe.
and here's to all the people who are showing up, little by little, at just the right time, that are helping me along this journey.
thank you.
24 March, 2012
20 March, 2012
Control
i will try to make this brief, for the simple fact that i know enough of my own anger to know that it can be both explosive and lengthy if left unchecked.
3 weeks ago i asked my primary care manager (re: my general physician) for a referral to a doctor who could place an IUD for me. i was called back a few days later and told they were quite capable of doing it at the clinic and their first open appointment was 2 weeks later. i said that was fine.
i very VERY specifically, and repeatedly, requested a Paragard IUD and was specifically and repeatedly assured that it would be a Paragard.
the morning of my appointment, after i got all checked in and was brought back to the room where placement was to happen, i sat waiting for them to input the last of my info in the computer.
the device was removed from its box, wrapped in a sterile towel, and was sitting next to me waiting.
the doctor came in to double check that i was in fact there for IUD placement. and then i was asked to get into the customary hospital gown.
and that's when i saw the box. the nurse had been holding it in her lap, faced away from me, and was about to move it to a counter to my left. it was a Mirena. and i very quickly said "that's a Mirena, i'm here for a Paragard" to which the nurse responded
"honey, they're the same thing"
no, no they absolutely are not. this turned into a nearly half hour long argument between myself, a nurse, and 2 doctors who treated me in a manner that i will not elaborate on, but was at the very least unbelievably condescending.
what happened in that room was illegal. a Mirena IUD is not a generic version of a Paragard. it is NOT an acceptable, similar substitute. it has hormones, a Paragard does not. they were going to place a long term device in my body without even telling me what it was, thus without my consent. and then when i called them on it, they tried to sweep it under the rug by simply assuming i would believe their assertion that the two were no different from one another.
your doctors, pharmacists, whoever, do NOT have the right to give you ANY medication without informing you of what it is, the way it is to be used, and its side effects BEFORE the medicine is administered.
what kills me about this is that their attitude about the whole thing tells me that they pull this garbage all the time. they obviously routinely tell women things like "it's the same" or use their awesome reasoning of "Paragard will make your periods heavier, you know that right?" as a way to scare women into taking the easier to obtain Mirena. (because that's what this came down to-- they have to order Paragards differently and it's a much longer and more complicated process than Mirenas, so when they made my appointment, they had Paragards in stock, but when i got there, they did not. and they wouldn't be in for weeks.)
why is it that our society fights enormous, public battles for our right to terminate pregnancies, but nobody seems even remotely concerned with the fact that a scary percentage of women clearly don't know the difference, or the side effects, from one pregnancy-prevention drug to the next? doesn't it make more sense to inform people completely, extensively, even exhaustively, on their options that will prevent pregnancies, so they can make an informed, thought out, and individually tailored decision about what they want? don't you think more women (and girls for that matter) would be more prone to keeping up with their birth control routine, whatever it may be, if they felt totally confident in what that routine was, understood it, had some say and control in it?
i do.
here is the link to the side effects from Mirena, a hormonal IUD that releases synthetic progestin. progestin is the main hormone used in the "mini-pill" as well.
here is the link to the side effects to Paragard, a non-hormonal IUD
here is a link to ONE version of the pill, a hormonal form of birth control that uses a combination of synthetic progestin and synthetic estrogen.
you only have one body. don't let a stranger tell you what's best for it.
3 weeks ago i asked my primary care manager (re: my general physician) for a referral to a doctor who could place an IUD for me. i was called back a few days later and told they were quite capable of doing it at the clinic and their first open appointment was 2 weeks later. i said that was fine.
i very VERY specifically, and repeatedly, requested a Paragard IUD and was specifically and repeatedly assured that it would be a Paragard.
the morning of my appointment, after i got all checked in and was brought back to the room where placement was to happen, i sat waiting for them to input the last of my info in the computer.
the device was removed from its box, wrapped in a sterile towel, and was sitting next to me waiting.
the doctor came in to double check that i was in fact there for IUD placement. and then i was asked to get into the customary hospital gown.
and that's when i saw the box. the nurse had been holding it in her lap, faced away from me, and was about to move it to a counter to my left. it was a Mirena. and i very quickly said "that's a Mirena, i'm here for a Paragard" to which the nurse responded
"honey, they're the same thing"
no, no they absolutely are not. this turned into a nearly half hour long argument between myself, a nurse, and 2 doctors who treated me in a manner that i will not elaborate on, but was at the very least unbelievably condescending.
what happened in that room was illegal. a Mirena IUD is not a generic version of a Paragard. it is NOT an acceptable, similar substitute. it has hormones, a Paragard does not. they were going to place a long term device in my body without even telling me what it was, thus without my consent. and then when i called them on it, they tried to sweep it under the rug by simply assuming i would believe their assertion that the two were no different from one another.
your doctors, pharmacists, whoever, do NOT have the right to give you ANY medication without informing you of what it is, the way it is to be used, and its side effects BEFORE the medicine is administered.
what kills me about this is that their attitude about the whole thing tells me that they pull this garbage all the time. they obviously routinely tell women things like "it's the same" or use their awesome reasoning of "Paragard will make your periods heavier, you know that right?" as a way to scare women into taking the easier to obtain Mirena. (because that's what this came down to-- they have to order Paragards differently and it's a much longer and more complicated process than Mirenas, so when they made my appointment, they had Paragards in stock, but when i got there, they did not. and they wouldn't be in for weeks.)
why is it that our society fights enormous, public battles for our right to terminate pregnancies, but nobody seems even remotely concerned with the fact that a scary percentage of women clearly don't know the difference, or the side effects, from one pregnancy-prevention drug to the next? doesn't it make more sense to inform people completely, extensively, even exhaustively, on their options that will prevent pregnancies, so they can make an informed, thought out, and individually tailored decision about what they want? don't you think more women (and girls for that matter) would be more prone to keeping up with their birth control routine, whatever it may be, if they felt totally confident in what that routine was, understood it, had some say and control in it?
i do.
here is the link to the side effects from Mirena, a hormonal IUD that releases synthetic progestin. progestin is the main hormone used in the "mini-pill" as well.
here is the link to the side effects to Paragard, a non-hormonal IUD
here is a link to ONE version of the pill, a hormonal form of birth control that uses a combination of synthetic progestin and synthetic estrogen.
you only have one body. don't let a stranger tell you what's best for it.
17 March, 2012
I am the VOOOOOOOOOICE!
happy st patrick's day! here is the obligatory link to what this day is REALLY about. now i don't have to feel guilty about encouraging people to go out and mindlessly drink for unknown celebratory reasons!
our house has been plagued by an enormous army of soldiers more commonly known as allergens.
i seriously envision them stabbing our nasal cavities with bayonets fashioned from twigs, covered in pollen poison.
i am still nursing, so the list of allergy medications i can take is limited- allergy medication by nature is meant to dry you out (runny nose, watery eyes, general oozing). it does not discriminate between phlegm and breastmilk, so many allergy medications can significantly deplete your milk supply. calvin basically refuses to accept that sippy cups have any purpose in life other than for him to fling around, so wiping out my milk supply seems like a very poor idea.
and by poor, i clearly mean on par with whoever thought up jelly shoes.
i can honestly deal with the discomfort. i gave birth naturally for heavens' sake! i am taking care of 2 children under the age of 3 by myself! i don't need no stinkin benadryl! i am woman! HEAR ME ROAR!!!
ok, hear me hack and cough up a wad of snot while my whole face turns splotchy shades of red and i begin to cry involuntarily and i wait for my chest to explode.
same thing as a roar.
the worst part of allergies for me is that i can't sing. in fact, the last 3-4 mornings i've woken up barely able to talk. my sweet, sweet coffee from my brother in law (BARISTA BROTHER IN LAWS ROCK!) has soothed my aching throat and the caffeine is probably the one thing that's really doing any work to relieve my constant headache.
coffee is my best, local, friend.
i have been singing more or less my whole life (which, if you recall my earlier post about being half deaf, is sort of a surprise to a lot of people). my brother dabbled a bit in a few stringed instruments and my sister got the double whammy and can both sing and play some music-machines.
singing is cathartic for me. i don't have much cause to sing in the house. i'm usually sort of preoccupied.
thankfully, with e gone i am the only one to run errands. also, our errands all magically have to be done at least 20 minutes away most of the time.
so i sing in the car.
it might be more accurate to say that i have a car-ride-long "the voice" style battle round with the radio.
and i am ALWAYS the winner.
adam levine would pick me EVERY time.
blake might not, but i don't trust his decisions anyway.
cee lo's cat would even be turned on.
and christina is begging me to let her sing on stage next to me
it's all true. every bit. don't question it.
there was a time when i would try really hard to look like i wasn't belting at the top of my lungs from the driver's seat. i was concerned that other drivers would make fun of me.
and then a few years ago, a few thoughts dawned on me:
1. nobody is paying that much attention to my car.
2. i will NEVER see those people on the road again, so what's the worst they can do? make fun of me to their friends who i will also never meet? ooooh the horror of strangers making fun of me and my never ever knowing about it!!!
3. it is really hard to hit all the dramatic notes of a song with your mouth half shut.
so now i have no shame. i'm busting it out like i'm dreamlover mariah carey, like i own the road and allllllll those people are my audience.
those honks are cheers of encouragement. the middle fingers? feverish clapping. they're on the phone calling their friends to tell them that they just saw the next american idol.
i'm the sh*t girl, i'm the biggest hit girl (see what i did there?).
but right now, i can't sing because my throat is under siege. so i sit hunched over in my car, bored, detached.
yes, even a touch depressed.
i have been eliminated from the battle round, voted off by POLLEN and the great state of alabama.
but don't you worry folks, i'll come back swinging. it'll try to break me, but you see, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger....
bwahahahaha
our house has been plagued by an enormous army of soldiers more commonly known as allergens.
i seriously envision them stabbing our nasal cavities with bayonets fashioned from twigs, covered in pollen poison.
i am still nursing, so the list of allergy medications i can take is limited- allergy medication by nature is meant to dry you out (runny nose, watery eyes, general oozing). it does not discriminate between phlegm and breastmilk, so many allergy medications can significantly deplete your milk supply. calvin basically refuses to accept that sippy cups have any purpose in life other than for him to fling around, so wiping out my milk supply seems like a very poor idea.
and by poor, i clearly mean on par with whoever thought up jelly shoes.
i can honestly deal with the discomfort. i gave birth naturally for heavens' sake! i am taking care of 2 children under the age of 3 by myself! i don't need no stinkin benadryl! i am woman! HEAR ME ROAR!!!
ok, hear me hack and cough up a wad of snot while my whole face turns splotchy shades of red and i begin to cry involuntarily and i wait for my chest to explode.
same thing as a roar.
the worst part of allergies for me is that i can't sing. in fact, the last 3-4 mornings i've woken up barely able to talk. my sweet, sweet coffee from my brother in law (BARISTA BROTHER IN LAWS ROCK!) has soothed my aching throat and the caffeine is probably the one thing that's really doing any work to relieve my constant headache.
coffee is my best, local, friend.
i have been singing more or less my whole life (which, if you recall my earlier post about being half deaf, is sort of a surprise to a lot of people). my brother dabbled a bit in a few stringed instruments and my sister got the double whammy and can both sing and play some music-machines.
singing is cathartic for me. i don't have much cause to sing in the house. i'm usually sort of preoccupied.
thankfully, with e gone i am the only one to run errands. also, our errands all magically have to be done at least 20 minutes away most of the time.
so i sing in the car.
it might be more accurate to say that i have a car-ride-long "the voice" style battle round with the radio.
and i am ALWAYS the winner.
adam levine would pick me EVERY time.
blake might not, but i don't trust his decisions anyway.
cee lo's cat would even be turned on.
and christina is begging me to let her sing on stage next to me
it's all true. every bit. don't question it.
there was a time when i would try really hard to look like i wasn't belting at the top of my lungs from the driver's seat. i was concerned that other drivers would make fun of me.
and then a few years ago, a few thoughts dawned on me:
1. nobody is paying that much attention to my car.
2. i will NEVER see those people on the road again, so what's the worst they can do? make fun of me to their friends who i will also never meet? ooooh the horror of strangers making fun of me and my never ever knowing about it!!!
3. it is really hard to hit all the dramatic notes of a song with your mouth half shut.
so now i have no shame. i'm busting it out like i'm dreamlover mariah carey, like i own the road and allllllll those people are my audience.
those honks are cheers of encouragement. the middle fingers? feverish clapping. they're on the phone calling their friends to tell them that they just saw the next american idol.
i'm the sh*t girl, i'm the biggest hit girl (see what i did there?).
but right now, i can't sing because my throat is under siege. so i sit hunched over in my car, bored, detached.
yes, even a touch depressed.
i have been eliminated from the battle round, voted off by POLLEN and the great state of alabama.
but don't you worry folks, i'll come back swinging. it'll try to break me, but you see, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger....
bwahahahaha
15 March, 2012
Promise
i want to be more consistent with posting. i really, really do.
i routinely come up with entire blog posts in my head while i'm driving around town tending to one of the many responsibilities i've been graciously given my by husband's absence.
and then i forget all of it.
so i try to come up with funny or interesting stuff on the fly.
and it's never funny.
or interesting.
or good writing.
i don't think it's writer's block. it feels more like life block i suppose. i could write if i had something worth writing about.
"are you saying your kids aren't worth writing about!?! YOUR PRIDE AND JOY, THE APPLES OF YOUR EYE!? YOUR FLESH AND BLOOD!?!!?! they aren't INTERESTING enough for you?!?!"
they are definitely interesting enough for me, but i don't feel the need to relive it all for the blogosphere. moreover, they aren't old enough to convey to me if they're ok with me broadcasting every detail of their lives on the interwebs.
also, i still have myself convinced that my life blog-worthy. i haven't given up the belief that i have unique experiences in life that are worth telling the world about.
though.... let's be honest.... i'm pretty cliche.
blogging army wife? cliche.
blogging mom of 2 young children? been done.
blogging lady who is sort of into healthy living? totally common. and done better than me.
blogging woman with a sense of humor? over it!
i don't have a whole lot of "hasn't been done before" to write about. no truly unique perspective over here.
but i really enjoy writing. so while i can't guarantee that every post i make will be epic, i'll try to keep up better.
promise.
i routinely come up with entire blog posts in my head while i'm driving around town tending to one of the many responsibilities i've been graciously given my by husband's absence.
and then i forget all of it.
so i try to come up with funny or interesting stuff on the fly.
and it's never funny.
or interesting.
or good writing.
i don't think it's writer's block. it feels more like life block i suppose. i could write if i had something worth writing about.
"are you saying your kids aren't worth writing about!?! YOUR PRIDE AND JOY, THE APPLES OF YOUR EYE!? YOUR FLESH AND BLOOD!?!!?! they aren't INTERESTING enough for you?!?!"
they are definitely interesting enough for me, but i don't feel the need to relive it all for the blogosphere. moreover, they aren't old enough to convey to me if they're ok with me broadcasting every detail of their lives on the interwebs.
also, i still have myself convinced that my life blog-worthy. i haven't given up the belief that i have unique experiences in life that are worth telling the world about.
though.... let's be honest.... i'm pretty cliche.
blogging army wife? cliche.
blogging mom of 2 young children? been done.
blogging lady who is sort of into healthy living? totally common. and done better than me.
blogging woman with a sense of humor? over it!
i don't have a whole lot of "hasn't been done before" to write about. no truly unique perspective over here.
but i really enjoy writing. so while i can't guarantee that every post i make will be epic, i'll try to keep up better.
promise.
06 March, 2012
My Husband
This post will have capital letters. Don't be alarmed, I'm writing it on my iPad and the iPad is not lazy like I am.
I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life.
It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.
E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"
Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.
E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"
I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.
"just before sunrise?"
"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."
"Cool."
"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'"
If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.
But he never does.
Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.
I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.
I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.
This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.
There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.
Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.
Twelve months is not so long.
Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.
People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.
I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.
It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.
I married that man.
I write about e all the time. Well, I reference him, rather. He's my husband, so logically speaking there should be quite a few references to him- he's the father of my children and the person I chose to be my partner in this life.
It makes sense that he would be mentioned here and there.
E keeps me grounded. For every moment of neurosis I have, he has twice as many moments of zen. You could probably tell e that his left leg had been chewed off by a small army of wild turkeys and his only question would be "when can I get my space legs and do an iron man!?"
Early in our relationship e told me one of the most profound things I've ever heard that I don't believe was actually intended to make the kind of impact that it did.
E asked me "what is the coldest part of the day?"
I thought about it. I know him well enough to know that he loves to ask questions whose answers seem obvious, but aren't.
"just before sunrise?"
"you'd think that. But it takes 7 minutes for the sun's warmth to reach earth, so the coldest part of the day is actually 6 minutes after sunrise."
"Cool."
"So when I was at beast and I was freezing my ass off doing pt in the morning, I would just wait until I saw the sun and then I would tell myself 'only 6 more minutes!'"
If you know e, this more or less sums him up. He could choose to focus on the chill, choose to be irritated at already being cold for hours, to be angry at the inconvenience of distance and the limitations of heat's ability to travel to him. He could choose to be annoyed at having to exercise at 4am as a means for paying for college. He could whine, complain, groan and choose to be miserable.
But he never does.
Instead he chooses to accept the cold, the tired, the inconvenience as a means to an end, a fleeting discomfort that will be replaced by a great reward.
I have thought about this very conversation hundreds of times in our short 3 years of marriage, but it seems the most striking right now.
I feel like we as a family are in that 6 minute window. We aren't in total darkness by any means. The light visible, day has broken, hope is on the horizon. But the warmth hasn't reached us yet.
This deployment has us caught in a strange paradox where I truly believe we are both finding out how strong we are individually and tipping our hats to the other's strength, yet at the same time we are the most vulnerable. At least for me, I see my husband in a very new, encouraging, and frankly, very attractive way. In a sense it does feel as though my view of him has been in a state of twilight, and his absence brought daybreak with it, shedding light on all of the things I love, respect and cherish about him. All of the things I miss. All of the things he is missing.
There is light, but it seems to have become even colder. And I have a choice right now. I can focus on the chill. I can succumb to my anger that I've already been waiting for the warmth for months and I'm losing my patience with it. I can give in.
Or I can follow the precedent set by my husband. The one filled with and powered by grace, by love and trust. The one that says that 6 minutes is not so long.
Twelve months is not so long.
Not when the end of those 12 months holds the man that will carry me for a lifetime, my rock, my partner, my foothold, my love.
People tell me far too often that I am strong. I never know how to respond because it couldn't be farther from the truth. I could never be the woman, mother, wife, and person that I am if it weren't for the support of my husband. I am one half of a strong team.
I don't know if e thought that conversation was much more than a fun anecdote. I've never told him how deeply, drastically, and permanently it affected me and my perception of him.
It takes 6 minutes for the light you see to bring the warmth you feel. It takes time for hope to come to fruition. Don't give up.
I married that man.
17 February, 2012
Sounds like......
i've had my BAHA since approximately 10:15am on wednesday, february 15, 2012.
aside from being asleep, i think it has been off of my head for a total of 2 hours. that includes showering.
there are some downsides to it, some things that need to be tweaked-- music keeps causing feedback after 10-15 minutes of listening, particularly with treble heavy music (in other words, my hearing aid ALSO hates katy perry. we are a perfect fit!) and when my hair is down i hear it swishing on the hearing aid a whole bunch so i have to keep my hair pulled back, which is giving me a headache! but taking a tylenol or two for a few days is well worth being able to hear!
when i took it off wednesday night, i ended up staying awake for a little bit playing spades and trying to settle myself down.
it was the first time i've ever really, truly felt deaf.
after spending a day "hearing" the world to the left of me, i was in love. when i heard stereo for the first time that afternoon, there was no turning back. i am in complete awe.
the appropriate thing to do would be to write a post about how life changing this is, the emotional weight of the situation, etc etc.
instead, i will make fun of myself.
people keep asking me what it's like to hear. it's so kind, and they are SO excited for me! but THEY already can hear. the best way to answer that question is to tell them the things that i am hearing differently.
but....
if you aren't deaf at all..... then you've never heard like a deaf person...... even if you plug an ear with your finger, there is still some residual sound, you can hear yourself talking. not the case with deafness. it is totally dead.
so when i say things like "the song 'boys of summer' by the eagles-- there are SEAGULLS in the background of the track!!!!!'" i mostly get blank, happy stares. like they're waiting for me to continue and explain the amazing part.
like i'm supposed to say "don henley came TO MY HOUSE and sang it IN MY DRIVEWAY!!!!!! THAT'S WHAT A HEARING AID DOES!!!!"
or i could say "the microwave hinges creak a little!!"
people generally tune that kind of thing out?
ok, maybe this is better:
"the world is effing LOUD"
stating the obvious?
"I CAN HEAR MY KIDS CRYING FROM ANYWHERE IN THE HOUSE!!!!"
that...... doesn't sound appealing at all.... even to me as i'm typing it....
"i was able to turn down my radio and my tv volume by almost HALF!"
i can only imagine the response to that will be great gratitude from those people who've been subjected to my apparently roaring media equipment.
but in all seriousness, the best way i think i've come up with so far to explain this is to say that it's as though my hearing is 3 dimensional-- there are layers and waves where before there was just one steady line. after my wedding day and the birthdays of both of our boys, this takes the #4 spot without contest.
aside from being asleep, i think it has been off of my head for a total of 2 hours. that includes showering.
there are some downsides to it, some things that need to be tweaked-- music keeps causing feedback after 10-15 minutes of listening, particularly with treble heavy music (in other words, my hearing aid ALSO hates katy perry. we are a perfect fit!) and when my hair is down i hear it swishing on the hearing aid a whole bunch so i have to keep my hair pulled back, which is giving me a headache! but taking a tylenol or two for a few days is well worth being able to hear!
when i took it off wednesday night, i ended up staying awake for a little bit playing spades and trying to settle myself down.
it was the first time i've ever really, truly felt deaf.
after spending a day "hearing" the world to the left of me, i was in love. when i heard stereo for the first time that afternoon, there was no turning back. i am in complete awe.
the appropriate thing to do would be to write a post about how life changing this is, the emotional weight of the situation, etc etc.
instead, i will make fun of myself.
people keep asking me what it's like to hear. it's so kind, and they are SO excited for me! but THEY already can hear. the best way to answer that question is to tell them the things that i am hearing differently.
but....
if you aren't deaf at all..... then you've never heard like a deaf person...... even if you plug an ear with your finger, there is still some residual sound, you can hear yourself talking. not the case with deafness. it is totally dead.
so when i say things like "the song 'boys of summer' by the eagles-- there are SEAGULLS in the background of the track!!!!!'" i mostly get blank, happy stares. like they're waiting for me to continue and explain the amazing part.
like i'm supposed to say "don henley came TO MY HOUSE and sang it IN MY DRIVEWAY!!!!!! THAT'S WHAT A HEARING AID DOES!!!!"
or i could say "the microwave hinges creak a little!!"
people generally tune that kind of thing out?
ok, maybe this is better:
"the world is effing LOUD"
stating the obvious?
"I CAN HEAR MY KIDS CRYING FROM ANYWHERE IN THE HOUSE!!!!"
that...... doesn't sound appealing at all.... even to me as i'm typing it....
"i was able to turn down my radio and my tv volume by almost HALF!"
i can only imagine the response to that will be great gratitude from those people who've been subjected to my apparently roaring media equipment.
but in all seriousness, the best way i think i've come up with so far to explain this is to say that it's as though my hearing is 3 dimensional-- there are layers and waves where before there was just one steady line. after my wedding day and the birthdays of both of our boys, this takes the #4 spot without contest.
15 February, 2012
Going Live
you're going to want to view this in the "sidebar" mode, in order to see the line of pictures of the healing progress. the link to side bar mode should be just above this and slightly to the left :D
fun fact about me that i think i've thrown on here before: i'm hearing impaired! i have been completely deaf in my left ear for as long as i can remember. we found out when i was 8 and the cause is unknown, though the best theory they have is that my bones and nerves didn't grow with the rest of me. none of those things are connected. so i have a fully functional inner ear, but you could say that i don't have an extension cord long enough to reach the outlet :)
there's this awesome piece of technology called a BAHA. it stands for bone anchored hearing aid. it works by implanting a titanium screw in your skull in the bone behind your ear. that screw has a snap attachment on the end that sticks out of your head and you snap a processor onto it. that processor takes in sound and vibrates it into your skull, which in turn vibrates the sound to your other ear. sort of like a tuning fork, as it were. so you hear things on your deaf side through your hearing ear.
pretty amazing, huh!?
well, i've known about this particular device since one of my annual hearing tests in college. my insurance at the time wouldn't even cover a hearing aid (that's actually very common by the way. you can get viagra, but not hearing aids, through most insurance. apparently sex is necessary to every day living, but not hearing. priorities!). then i got married and military insurance DOES cover the hearing aid! aaaaaaah!!!!!! i was sort of deadlocked in the process at our first base because of a lack of ENTs in the area, specifically any who knew what a BAHA was or how to do the surgery.
then i got pregnant. in addition to not being able to have surgery whilst incubating, pregnancy itself can change your hearing. so i would have to start from square 0 after jp was born.
well, jp came. i started the process while we were trying for our second baby, just in case it took us some time to get pregnant. well, it didn't take much time at all! so it was back to the beginning again!
finally, at the end of november of 2011, i got my hearing test and my referral to the ENT to determine if i was a candidate.
by now i had been waiting 6 years. really, i had been waiting for 20 years, but i didn't even know i could change my life until 6 years ago.
there was a "test" piece, a metal headband with the processor attached that presses the processor into your bone to give you an idea of what kind of sound you may gain. it's a faint shadow of the sound you get with the real abutment because it has to fight through skin, tissue, muscle, nerve, etc.
but it worked. i could hear.
it was the strangest thing. i kept thinking jp was getting into things he should not while i was making breakfast or putting away laundry, because he was being so loud and so indiscreet! but he wasn't doing anything odd. it was just that i couldn't always hear the clicks, slides, bangs, footsteps and swishes of his every day play when i was in other rooms because walls muted sounds and i was carrying dead weight on one side.
i have no way to describe the difference. the best i can come up with is just "more". maybe richer. instead of a 6 string guitar, a 12 string. or instead of a quartet, a full orchestra, playing at the same volume as before, but with dozens more instruments.
and i begged them to schedule the fastest surgery date i could get. it was nearly a month later, which seemed like an eternity and a millisecond all at once. the holidays did me a giant favor in passing time and before i knew it surgery day arrived.
i did it with a local numbing and no sedation (a lot like dental surgery, but on your skull..... sooo..... maybe not like dental surgery haha!) and was out of the hospital within an hour of getting out of surgery.
it's a 6 week-3 month wait to get your processor, depending on how well/quickly you heal.
i heal like wolverine. no lie.
at my 3 week check up the ENT said that it was healing so well we could probably attach it now, but it would be best to wait and make sure the thing is REALLY solid so it doesn't get shaken loose and fall out.
i agree. once this is in, i sincerely doubt i'm going to want to go another 6 weeks without it, ever again.
i will be able to sit shot gun in a car and hear the passenger without turning my head. i can potentially go to movies with stereo and be able to catch what's going on. i can walk on whatever side of people i like. i can read books to my kids, jp on the left, calvin on the right, and i will be able to hear them both talk to me. the list goes on. i'll never be able to go back.
i can wait 3 more weeks for years of uninterrupted hearing.
so there's the picture slideshow of my healing process, from day 0 to right before i got the processor.
sorry if this somehow makes ya queasy! i actually don't think it's bad at all! i was really impressed with how well it healed up and how gross it didn't look, especially compared to some other sites i've seen.
and here's the box!!
there aren't many ways i can go about describing what this day has been like. i got the processor at 10am and i don't think my life will ever be the same. that sounds so cliche, but it's true.
my mom was kind enough to shoot a video of me listening to surround sound for the first time so that e could see it. i asked my folks which movies were good for surround sound, and their first pick was armageddon.
turns out armageddon is $10 to rent on amazon instant video!!! WHAT THE!!? ridiculous.
so we went with pick #2, top gun :D here it is!
as an added bonus, there's a video of my parents! the BAHA processor kit comes with a little piece of plastic (i think? it may be something else) that the processor can be placed inside, and then pressed to your forehead so you can hear sound the way a BAHA user hears sound (sort of-- a BAHA implant is much clearer!). today is my dad's birthday, so i would say in general, this was a pretty cool gift :) i think he'd agree!
05 February, 2012
2.
thursday morning started off normally. playing, eating, coffee, etc. my mom came to watch the boys while i was at an appointment. an hour before i had to leave, i began vomiting suddenly and for no reason. the churning went on for a good 2 or so hours and then i was fine.
odd.
i must have eaten something strange.
friday morning i woke up and before i even got out of bed i thought "we're canceling speech therapy this morning". we rarely miss sessions and i was exhausted and felt like playing hooky. and let's be honest here, i was hoping to hear from e.
but i rallied and gave myself the "you're a mom, you have to be responsible now, his well being is more important than yours" speech and got out of bed to change him and get his food.
i smelled the poop before i even got to the door.
now, that's not uncommon, for me to smell poop before i open the door. we eat a decent amount of veggies. it leaves a potent smell.
i was not prepared for the sight i would encounter upon opening the door.
let's just say that the cream colored carpet and his foam alphabet mat had developed quite the display of polka dots. but not the cute pink kind.
it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. my whole body just froze and my mind began to panic. "HOW ARE WE GOING TO CLEAN THIS UP?!?! THERE IS NO WE, IT'S ON YOU!!!! HOW DO YOU GET POOP OUT OF CARPET!??!! IS IT SIMILAR TO JELLY!?!?! I KNOW HOW TO GET JELLY OUT!!!! DO I EVEN HAVE SHAVING CREAM!?! WE'LL NEVER GET OUR SECURITY DEPOSIT BACK!!!!"
and then the best part. i remembered we had guests coming to stay the night. in about 4 hours.
i haven't showered. i didn't clean up the house last night. i have to change the sheets and bedding in the guest room. the dishes aren't done. the house is in utter disarray.
the 2 year old is covered in poop.
"HOLY CRAP LETS START WITH THE 2 YEAR OLD!!!! GENIUS! IF THE POOP PRODUCER NO LONGER HAS POOP THEN WE CAN START CLEANING!"
thank goodness jp loves baths. i un-diapered him, threw him in, and set to work on his room.
too much. too much poop. too much "what the hell do i do!?"
google.
back to cleaning.
i decided the best approach for the ABC mat was to just pick it up and put it in the bath with jp and then turn on the shower. he was delighted.
next, on to the carpet. thank heavens he stayed out of his bed, so i didn't have to do a full sheet-bedding-mattress cleaning on top of everything else.
there were casualties. his cute lil' toy story couch is sitting sadly next to our garbage can, a depressing parallel to the the third installment of the movies.
i feel like i should apologize to woody and buzz.
a few books weren't worth trying to clean.
i get shaving cream and vinegar worked into the carpet and go back to check on jp- he has created, literally, a pond next to the bathtub.
i go into the hallway and yell an obscenity at the top of my lungs.
back to the linen closet for more towels to soak up said pond.
back to cleaning.
my mom graciously came to help.
it took nearly 2 hours to deal with the aftermath. an hour later my little boy with an upset tummy took an early nap.
i put calvin in his exersaucer and sat down on the couch for a moment.
it was quite. the house was ready.
relief.
i smile at calvin, he grunts, i pick him up and lay him down near the diaper station.
i remove his diaper.
poop. all the way up the back. spilling out of the diaper.
at least this time it was contained in a onesie. and i still had 2 more loads of laundry to do to be back on top of the earlier poop situation.
when both of your children have managed to unintentionally get poop outside of their diapers before lunch time, you have not only lost the battle.... but the war.
odd.
i must have eaten something strange.
friday morning i woke up and before i even got out of bed i thought "we're canceling speech therapy this morning". we rarely miss sessions and i was exhausted and felt like playing hooky. and let's be honest here, i was hoping to hear from e.
but i rallied and gave myself the "you're a mom, you have to be responsible now, his well being is more important than yours" speech and got out of bed to change him and get his food.
i smelled the poop before i even got to the door.
now, that's not uncommon, for me to smell poop before i open the door. we eat a decent amount of veggies. it leaves a potent smell.
i was not prepared for the sight i would encounter upon opening the door.
let's just say that the cream colored carpet and his foam alphabet mat had developed quite the display of polka dots. but not the cute pink kind.
it was everywhere. EVERYWHERE. my whole body just froze and my mind began to panic. "HOW ARE WE GOING TO CLEAN THIS UP?!?! THERE IS NO WE, IT'S ON YOU!!!! HOW DO YOU GET POOP OUT OF CARPET!??!! IS IT SIMILAR TO JELLY!?!?! I KNOW HOW TO GET JELLY OUT!!!! DO I EVEN HAVE SHAVING CREAM!?! WE'LL NEVER GET OUR SECURITY DEPOSIT BACK!!!!"
and then the best part. i remembered we had guests coming to stay the night. in about 4 hours.
i haven't showered. i didn't clean up the house last night. i have to change the sheets and bedding in the guest room. the dishes aren't done. the house is in utter disarray.
the 2 year old is covered in poop.
"HOLY CRAP LETS START WITH THE 2 YEAR OLD!!!! GENIUS! IF THE POOP PRODUCER NO LONGER HAS POOP THEN WE CAN START CLEANING!"
thank goodness jp loves baths. i un-diapered him, threw him in, and set to work on his room.
too much. too much poop. too much "what the hell do i do!?"
google.
back to cleaning.
i decided the best approach for the ABC mat was to just pick it up and put it in the bath with jp and then turn on the shower. he was delighted.
next, on to the carpet. thank heavens he stayed out of his bed, so i didn't have to do a full sheet-bedding-mattress cleaning on top of everything else.
there were casualties. his cute lil' toy story couch is sitting sadly next to our garbage can, a depressing parallel to the the third installment of the movies.
i feel like i should apologize to woody and buzz.
a few books weren't worth trying to clean.
i get shaving cream and vinegar worked into the carpet and go back to check on jp- he has created, literally, a pond next to the bathtub.
i go into the hallway and yell an obscenity at the top of my lungs.
back to the linen closet for more towels to soak up said pond.
back to cleaning.
my mom graciously came to help.
it took nearly 2 hours to deal with the aftermath. an hour later my little boy with an upset tummy took an early nap.
i put calvin in his exersaucer and sat down on the couch for a moment.
it was quite. the house was ready.
relief.
i smile at calvin, he grunts, i pick him up and lay him down near the diaper station.
i remove his diaper.
poop. all the way up the back. spilling out of the diaper.
at least this time it was contained in a onesie. and i still had 2 more loads of laundry to do to be back on top of the earlier poop situation.
when both of your children have managed to unintentionally get poop outside of their diapers before lunch time, you have not only lost the battle.... but the war.
29 January, 2012
Grown Up Love
another one of our unit's lovely lady counterparts and i were talking this evening about that glorious time in your life called "youth".
i don't miss high school one bit. but e and i met when we were both essentially done with college, so we skipped a lot of those giddy phases that 15 year olds are so lucky to immerse themselves in daily. i joked about sending e a love note a la freshman year of high school.
and then i went ahead and did it. in a program on the iPad. via email. to myself. to post here. because if i sent this to him, he would stop talking to me. immediately. and i
am already hurting for adult conversation.
there are times when i feel like e and i were robbed of a lot of romance and the frivolity that comes with being young and poor and in love. our marriage is pretty much stellar and i wouldn't want to give up any part of who we are and how we came to be husband and wife.
but i'd be lying if i didn't say that i wish we had more stories to tell about getting drunk when we were 17 and nearly pissing ourselves because we thought our parents would notice the 2 missing cans of beer that it required for us to become totally wasted. (for the record, it still only takes me one can of beer.)
or memories of making out in the minivan after one of us got our licenses (yes, we both drove vans in high school. clearly we were made for each other).
or senior prom. oh how i wish i could have been his date so i could mock his gelled hair now. (there was nothing to mock about me. i was a glowing vision of elegance at my senior prom. just trust me, don't reference any pictures)
i wish i had 3-ring binders or folders full of notes scrawled during boring lectures about things that it turns out we actually did need in college AND in real life. i would like to sit on the floor of our bedroom during these lonely months and open a decoupage-d box full of origami fortune tellers, pressed flowers from the bush outside the school theater, pictures of us laughing in the stands in our band uniforms with braces and awkward physiology.
i would love to have those little momentos of a time when we were so unsure of who we were and where we would end up, when we were desperately clinging to every second, relishing in every hand held, every kiss shared, every hour alone together. i would love more memories of a time when we were careful with each other and passionate because we couldn't tell if the other would stay but we wanted them to so so so badly.
i would like more dried flowers hanging above my bed. more obviously staged photographs in more beaded evening gowns. more dates to dairy queen.
more metabolism.
instead i have all these silly tokens of love laying around here-- a washer and dryer, our first flat screen tv. a kitchenaid mixer, a couch with a chaise, a queen sized pillowtop mattress and sleigh bed frame. a minivan.
OH, two kids. we have two kids, forgot about them.
a house whose rent we can afford, as well as the utilities. student loans that have never gone into deferment or default. a savings account.
empty bottles of wine atop the refrigerator. a wine glass (or 2.... or 3....) full of corks. a few more glasses full of bottle caps from parties shared with friends that have remained such despite time and distance.
i wish we had a longer "crazy in love" stage in our relationship. don't get me wrong, we're crazy in love. and we were crazy, you can ask our families. but we weren't reckless and giddy for very long. we had jobs for heavens sake! careers even! and then babies! can't be frivolous and silly when babies come along! well, not with each other anyway. you can be frivolous and silly with babies all day long! they seem to enjoy it, as a matter of fact....
i'm not sure there's a point to this at all. i rarely have points, eh? simply put, it seems that already, in my mid 20s, i see the "grass is greener" pattern that all of the world seems to fall into. when you're 15 you just wish for permanent, grown up love--or at least your over-fantasized visions of it. when you're living out that grown up love, you yearn for the recklessness of your youthful escapades.
perhaps there's a happy medium somewhere. though, i sincerely doubt it involves neon crayola rainbows vomiting colored pencil hearts onto wide ruled paper.
but that's just a theory.
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