My Head Trip
I used to be an extrovert.
Now, I consider myself an introvert with some extrovert added to the mix. I have a hearing loss. One ear is deaf and the other partially deaf. I feel like I have an invisible veil separating me from others.
Two years ago, after struggling to hear with friends, travelers, servers, family, salespeople,I checked into getting hearing aids. Each time, I felt frustration as technicians told me: “they should work.” They did not work for me. It began a path towards partial isolation and frustration.
I visited specialists at Kaiser, my medical group After test results, my doctor said, “You have a brain tumor which has damaged your auditory nerve."
“Hearing aids won’t help.”
“What?” My mind raced to thoughts of my grandfather who died of brain cancer. The doctor continued, “Good news: it is not cancer. Bad news: Permanent hearing loss with residual symptoms.”
“What are the residual symptoms?” The Dr. responded, “Head pressure, tinnitus, balance issues, and vertigo (world spinning around you.)
“You will need to decide on radiation, surgery or wait.” I felt overwhelmed in making this decision. Adrenaline started pumping through me. One part of me wanted to cry. The other part started putting together an action plan.
When feeling threatened, I override my insecurities. Friends say, “You are so brave.” I think, no I’m not. My survival tactics go into play. They see a proactive, determined person fighting the odds. The outside doesn’t match the inside.
I decided on 30 sessions of radiation for six weeks. They took place in the hospital’s cancer center. I felt like a fraud. I didn’t have cancer. Yet,, here I was among brave people fighting a daily battle for their lives. Each person I spoke with shared their story openly. I have such respect for each of them.
After radiation, I decided to work on acceptance, and keeping my dreams. Somedays, my head feels “wonky," a term used by others after radiation. It’s a mixture of loud tinnitus combined with head pressure which whirls in my head.
Some days I wake up and feel like my old self. My head is clear and emotions positive. On those cays, I begin planning my next trip to San MIguel de Allende, Mexico. With excitement, I reserved a casita for two months. I am open to new adventures again.
I am adjusting more and more to my” new normal.” I make different choices. Now, I roam in Powells Books rather than a play. I enjoy quieter restaurants. I love reading books and the Internet. I started to write and take photos again.
I remember my nearly deaf auntie. She continually tried to adjust her hearing aids. At family events, she began to sit apart from the group. I think she tired of saying “What?” Now, I understand her frustration and the frustrations of those trying to communicate.
At times, I think of hanging a sign from my neck saying, “Partially deaf but have a mind.”
Life is full in a different way. I walk with trekking poles to maintain balance. I still smile a lot each day. I feel fortunate. Things could be much worse.
Sandra Kennedy on horseback in Ecuador.
Sandra Kennedy is a Freelance Travel Writer, based in Oregon. After retiring from teaching internationally and nationally, she took a solo trip to Buenos Aires for a travel writing class. She followed her dream with mult-country travels and articles in: Morocco, Chile, Ecuador, Uruguay,Argentina, Nepal, China, Portugal, Alaska, Maine, Oregon and Washington.
photo credits: courtesy Sandra Kennedy and Pavlos Stamatis via Flickr CCL.
3 Comments
Reader Comments (3)
I'm so pleased to have met you in person and enjoyed your company. You often say that I am inspirational, but it is you my friend that is leading the way for others. Hellen Kellor was someone who inspired me. All her senses were highly evolved and her thoughts were precious to me. I am threatened with the loss of my eyesight in this lifetime and I look to her for guidance. Meanwhile, my thoughts are with you.
All the best,
Linda
Thank you for your illuminating post. Courageous, inside and out, even if you don't think so. That's true courage. And you are right, things could indeed be much worse. You have been able to gain from loss, and I admire that.
Best,
Elyn
Sandra, What a truly heartening story! I think sometimes when others say, "You're so courageous," what they may really mean is, "I'm glad I'm not you," or "Oh God, I hope I never have to deal with this!" Everyone has fears, and whether from courage or necessity, it is appropriate to feel respect and admiration for a fellow human who has faced them and shown us it is possible.
We live in a time and culture that exhaults an imagined sense of "perfection," which doesn't and can't exist for humans, each a uniquely complex and inherently flawed system. I'm grateful that more voices, like yours, are being raised, and more attention being given to how we cope, persevere and thrive in the face of inevitable loss. Thank you.
And when you're in San Miguel de Allende, you may enjoy visiting the Magdelene in the Parroquia. She's the unlikely one with the long red hair and bright blue satin dress, between the Virgin Mary and the Virgin of Guadalupe, the one who was shunned for her spunk and audacity, the one who was deaf to convention and dared to approach the holy. If you do, please say hello to her for me. Many blessings and happy trails!