Y’all, I can hear.
And man, is the world LOUD or what?
I have to say, it was kind of a weird thrill to walk out of Costco yesterday afternoon with the ability to hear things I couldn’t before. When I started the car, there was a weird noise I couldn’t identify before my phone started playing through the speakers. As I sat there in the car, wondering what it could be, I slowly began to realize it was the air blowing through the vents to cool the car down. I’d never heard it before. Walking through the grocery store, I could hear all the things I never heard–the crinkling of packaging in someone’s hand; the belt moving the groceries forward; and on and on it went. When I got home I could hear the squeaking of the ceiling fans, the air conditioning coming through the vents, every squeak of the floor and the stairs, and even when Paul came home–the rustle of his backpack as he slid it off, the crinkling of the packaging of his mail, the sound of him walking upstairs–all things I couldn’t hear before. I turned off the closed captioning on the television and turned the sound down. At one point I eventually grabbed my phone and turned the volume of the hearing aids down.
It’s a whole new world.
Bouchercon is beginning to look more and more like a super-spreader event, with people I was around and having hugged several times testing positive since the weekend. I tested negative again this morning, and hope I continue to do so since I am having a major dental procedure done on Friday morning. I paid all the bills yesterday, and did a lot of catching up on emails and so forth. After I left work early, I went by the post office to get the mail before getting the hearing aids, and then made groceries. I masked all day yesterday at the office and will probably do so again today and tomorrow, just to be safe. I’m not as concerned about getting it as I am about giving it to someone; to be clear. If I have to reschedule Friday I have to reschedule Friday, and there’s no sense in wasting time or energy worrying about it. I have some proofing I need to get done by tomorrow, so hopefully tonight I will be able to get home and just plant my ass in the easy chair and tear through it so I can get it turned in no later than tomorrow night. I have some other things to get done this week, too–so I am going to need to really update the to-do list so I can make sure things get done and nothing falls through the cracks; the trick is remembering everything when I make the list. I know I have some short stories that need to be finished, revised and polished; I’m still not sure the revision of my forty year old story works, to be honest. I also want to get this other one, “The Blues Before Dawn,” finished for another call. There are some other stories I need to follow up on that have been languishing in their files, and I need to start plotting out some more stories and books, too. I also want to start reading Shawn Cosby’s new book, All the Sinners Bleed, which is a great title and an even greater story, I am sure; Shawn is ridiculously talented and one of the most genuinely kind writers I know.
I am still digesting Laura Lippman’s Prom Mom, which is the mark of a great novel. I was thinking her work has slowly and slyly started critiquing gender roles, particularly the way men are shielded from consequences and inevitably fail upward. Rob Simpson, the main male in this book, from the outside appears to be a golden boy who has it all…but the truth is he’s a pretty face and an empty suit. His business success is all due to his uncle’s nepotism, and his wife actually makes more than he does. All the women in his life shield him from reality, when they are all smarter and stronger and more successful than he is, and he’s so privileged and entitled he never notices that he’d really be nothing without the women in his life–from his mother to Prom Mom herself to perfect wife Meredith.
I didn’t sleep great last night, despite being super-tired. I fell into bed around ten and then woke up at two, and never really fell back deeply into sleep, instead just dozing into a half-sleep before waking up again. Like yesterday, I got up at five (an hour earlier than usual) and figured might as well get a jump on the day and get up. I’ve had a cup of coffee and will undoubtedly have at least one more before leaving the house; I am tempted to make a cappuccino. Readjusting to reality has been a little harder this time than it usually is–the weird and wonky sleep patterns making the least amount of sense of anything–but I am slowly getting caught up, I think.
The weird thing about my hearing (circling back around to our original topic) is that I’ve always had trouble with it, even as a child. Mom and Dad always insisted I only hear what i want to hear, and there could be some truth in that. My hearing has always been erratic, and while I’ve always passed a hearing test (barely; I was always about this close to needing hearing aids before) there were things I couldn’t hear and if there was ambient noise, forget it: I heard nothing. This is why I stopped participating in dinner parties in restaurants of more than six people; anything bigger than that and there’s no point. I can’t hear anything in a bar, and so I smile and nodded a lot. I often joke on panels that I must agree to do things when I’m drunk in the bar at a Bouchercon, but the truth is I didn’t have to be drunk; it just had to be in a bar and I probably agreed without hearing because I would just smile and nod and say things like “sure” and “sounds great” and would never admit to being hard of hearing. This last hearing test confirmed everything: talking to someone in a one on one situation, I only hear about eighty percent of what is said. Add another person and the percentage drops, and keeps dropping with the addition of more noises and sounds. And if you need hearing aids do not get them from your doctor. Costco was about half the price I was quoted at the doctor’s office; Costco will also give you a hearing test as part of the purchase price; there’s a two year warrantee as well as a six year in total plan for servicing. It’s really nice to be able to hear again. It’s going to be strange being able to hear everything at work, too. I think part of the denial I was always in about my hearing–the not telling people–was because I didn’t have a confirmatory test result before and just not wanting to admit to a disability–which is incredibly stupid. Without my glasses I can’t see anything; how is hearing any different than seeing? The Shame Monster is a sly creature.
And on that note, I am heading into the spice mines. I’ll check in with you again later, Constant Reader, and have a great Wednesday.
Queer and Loathing in America 