Yesterday was decidedly unpleasant for me, it was as if my emotions decided to take up residence right on top of my normally tough skin. Everything rubbed me raw, things that wouldn't even register on a normal day. I invited my friend Melon Collie over and we decided to throw ourselves a little party. We even had live music, The World's Tiniest Violins. They rocked the house. You should have been there!
KayTar had her hearing test on Wednesday and the audiologist noted about 30-40 decibels of additional loss in her impaired ear. She wants to repeat the test in the next couple of weeks to verify the results, but even without verification, it was enough to knock me off balance. She has these periodic tests to watch for progressive loss, but we never expected it to happen. Well, it seems to have happened, and once again it made me acutely aware of how little we know about KayTar's condition and future, and reminded me that we have no control over the outcomes. I've written a lot lately about accepting these unknowns, but I think what made that so easy to accept was believing the most difficult times were behind us. This little hearing test made me realize that maybe that isn't the case and I have no real way of knowing. It hasn't exactly been easy around here lately at the Depress-o-Blog; the illnesses, the dehydration, the episodes, the surgery talk, and now progressive hearing loss. We really don't know anything about tomorrow, we only know what we know today. Most of the time that is enough, but yesterday it simply wasn't.
So, while Melon Collie and I were rocking out to the World's Tiniest Violins, I indulged myself with a little game of What If, the goal of which is, of course, to make yourself cry. I won, in case you're wondering. Soon enough it was time for me to go to school, so I left Melon Collie here, and drove to school with the haunting rock ballads of the World's Tiniest Violins still playing in my mind. By the time we were dissecting our cats (sorry, Peanut!) I had forgotten the tune altogether. It seems to be impossible to feel sorry for yourself when dissecting a cat, I mean, whatever is going on in your life, you're still better off than the cat, right? It isn't enough that the poor thing is dead, it is also being cut to pieces by novices. What is a little progressive hearing loss when you are facing students with scalpels, really? It is all about perspective.
Today my feelings seem to be tucked back inside of my body where they belong and my rational disposition has promptly returned. My friend Logic is on his way over and we are going to read textbooks and case studies together and I won't be answering any of Melon Collie's phone calls or text messages today. I contemplated not mentioning Melon Collie at all, because he is one of those second or third string friends, the kind you aren't all that proud to be acquainted with in the first place, but I try to be honest here, even if this IS becoming the Depress-o-Blog. If I showed up today with Logic and didn't mention the big self-pitying bash I threw yesterday, well, that wouldn't be the whole story. Yesterday was difficult and I was sad. I cried! I can't remember the last time I cried about any of this...probably last year after that whole We Have a Diagnosis/No We Don't fiasco. It happens, every once in a while life gets just a little too heavy and you have to lighten the load. Then life goes on, just like it always does.