Before (muffled) and After (loud)

Lord have mercy, the world is loud.

Yet my hearing aids are small. That's one of them, next to a quarter.

 Here's one of them in my ear. See? You can barely even tell. The over-the-ear part blends right in with my hair. It kinda obstructs my ability to tuck my hair behind my ears, but in exchange for being able actually hear you and not just grin and nod, I'll take it. (Does it look like I'm posing on an airfield? Maybe I am!)

 

Here's what I look like with them on. This is also for you to compare how different my face is, 63 pounds down. The picture with Chris is from our honeymoon, almost one year ago.

Lots of changes. All of them good.

What the world sounds like.

Since I've never had normal hearing (birth defect), I have no idea what the world actually sounds like at a normal-range hearing level. I suspect it is very loud and will cause me to want to cover my new bionic ears.

Had the hearing-aid impressions done on Friday, and I should be fitted for the hearing aids and LIVE in about 2 weeks.

All the people whose cubes are near mine and think that they barely need to whisper in order pass secrets better get ready for their worlds to get turned upside down.

Aids.

 
I have an appointment with an ENT doctor on Tuesday. My ears have been ringing nonstop since I got sick at Christmas, and I have a feeling my hearing loss has only become more...lost. I do believe that 2010 is the year I get aids. Hearing aids.

The reason I've put this off as long as I have is that I'm afraid they'll tell me that my hearing loss has gotten worse. It was 40% in both ears 5 years ago--what if it's 50% now? Or 60%? If the loss is progressive and constant, then that's some scary math: it's not a lot of years till 100%. So if you don't go to the doctor, then you don't know it's gotten worse for sure, though you suspect it, of course, and life goes on. And you don't hear anything in meetings, or when people come to whisper something to you in your cube at work, or when someone's got her head turned and she's talking to you but you can't hear it.

But how will I wear my iPod when I'm on my walk? And how on earth will we afford the aids in the first place. I have a lot of questions.