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The day is wrapping heavily around me. A humid yet chilly day. Gray skies and reflections. The type of day when you wish it would rain and get it out of it's system so the sun can shine again.
It is a perfect day actually. A day that allows me to feel like hiding under the covers, avoiding faces and places. Avoiding tasks and chores. Letting tears fall in place of expected raindrops. It is a day to permit myself to grieve.
I had my audiological exam yesterday. I have been diligent about going every year so I could track "progress" and update my hearing aids. Amazing how a few tweaks from a computer mouse can change your world through digital hearing aids.
Yet, I have been lax. It's been several years since I stepped into that small office. A cheerful place, with dancing bear paintings on the soft blue walls. A welcome approach to that often dreaded gray steel box, filled with wires, speakers, comfy yet firm chair, red push button and window of glass. Looking out that window the world can see so very far away.
I try to arrive with my sense of humor. I truly have a wonderful audiologist. A knowledgeable lady with bold credentials and an understanding that many professionals never quite grasp. She is a person who smiles easily and sincerely, sharing laughter that tickles your day.
A brief catch up on family and events and I am seated in the dreaded booth, and the door is shut. No matter how many times I have sat in this seat, I am still uncomfortable. After all it is a test. One for which I hopefully have studied properly . Yet my hands feel clammy when I grasp the "Push Me" Button when I hear the tone. For that brief instant before the first "note" I envision a scene from the magical surreal story of Alice in Wonderland. A scene in where Alice has fallen down the rabbit hole and faced with a dilemma and a "DrinkMe" potion. It is a scene based on trust before stepping into the unknown.
I confidently and often trigger happily, push the confirmation button that I have heard the tone. well, at least I think I hear the tone. I know the tone follows the other tone so it should be happening now so I will push. I add a puzzled look and the words "I think" just confirm I'm not sure but am moving along.
Switching the test mode to the other ear, I lighten my apprehension with a joke about also needing to switch the hand in which I am holding the button. We both laugh at the silliness and settle in for round two. Same tones, same "I think".
And then, the rabbit hole gets deeper, or the door gets smaller, or the choices of Fear , Fight or Flight are null. There are no rescuing potions nor smiling cats, although you know somewhere they exist. They must. Others have come along this same journey.
Having been to "my" audiologist for many years, I am familiar with her voice and style. I grasp that as a comfort and set off to chase the elusive white rabbit, which is in the form of a white sheet of paper with a list of "repeat after me" words.
As smoke rings floating around a caterpillars head the words come slowly and perfectly formed. Enunciation placed at proper stress points, carefully repeated if necessary.
And..... I grasp. I reach and I grasp. I touch a letter and it dissolves. I try to form my own words in repetition . I guess. I stop and shake my head in confusion and take a deep breath and strive forward. "Road"..I heard "Road". I think it's "Road". There are no visual cues, the white paper is blocking any chance of lip reading, I am sitting in a gray booth that seems to have wrapped tighter around me or I have grown taller to face this challenge. . I struggle. I guess some more. I think. I hope. A jumble of letters that no longer form the memorized list of "baseball, cowboy, hotdog, outside, sidewalk". Simple words. One syllable. Everyday "along the journey" words. And I didn't have a clue.
Numbers and percentages and changes are discussed. Yet numbers can be like boldly displayed hat sizes. In reality they do not always fit. Being a good guesser fit a small sense of pride on my head. Reality then slipped it off.
Somehow in this strange world of galvanized knights and bejeweled monsters, dodos and dancing creatures on the shore, tea parties and silly games and adversity and flowers that chide and sing...one develops a determination and an inner strength. Following a path, perhaps chasing the elusive but standing strong and placing one foot in front of the other, no matter how scary, no matter how lost, no matter how confusing, no matter how the tears might fall, no matter how different, no matter how rocky the road.
"Road." I'm sure I "heard" Road.
Tomorrow will be brighter. Tomorrow will a few more steps away from the "hit hard" fall.
Tomorrow perhaps I will wear a hat that fits, smile boldly and step into my garden to "hear" the flowers sing.
