“…more than you can handle”

There’s a saying out there. Maybe it’s out of the Bible or some other biblical level text. It more or less states that God will never give you more than you can handle. God will ALLOW trials and tribulations to come unto you.

Well, the good Lord must think I’m some kind of freaking bad ass…

So… in addition to my recently snapped leg and ankle… I’ve started to have issues with my right ear.

The issues I’m experiencing with my right ear are exactly the same as the issues I had with my left ear in 2008.  My first post on that subject was October 5, 2008.

When I wear my hearing aid, my right ear now whistles, whooshes, hoot and hollers… depending on the level of incoming sound, the volume of this ranges from annoying (like right now when all I can hear is the clicking of keys) and when I speak… my own voice… makes my right ear bellow like a tornado siren.

I have an appointment with an ENT on the 25th of May. I expect this is the point where I have to say “is it time for Cochlear implants? Maybe BAHA?”  because I must assume that the cillia in my ears are no longer functional as proper sound conduits at all… and a cochlear implant would allow me to hear again.

So… slap my ass and call me a ninny. Put me in the hospital AGAIN this year for some major operation. Cause I’m like a pinata. Keep whacking at me  till all the candy comes tumbling out. Whatever it is that needs be done.

I’m more prepared for it this time. I’m prepared for them to say (or write) “I’m sorry, but cochlear won’t work.” and tell me I’m doomed to listen to this whistling if I want to hear, and then I’m doomed to having to learn sign language. That I’m doomed to have my life irretrievably altered… it won’t affect me so much, you know? I mean, I’ve spent all my life nearly deaf. It’s just that fine line, a towering great wall of comprehension, will come tumbling down… and I’ll be isolated even more because it will affect my friends and family more than it will affect me.

Will you still be my friend if you have to write down everything? Will you still like me as your nephew if you can’t tell me anything without a pen/paper or a computer? Will you still love me if half the time, you can’t get my attention unless you wave your arms at me?

I may walk again, but I’ll limp. I’ll play golf again, but my drive won’t go so far. I’ll take pitches in the batting cage again, but I’ll strike out more often. I’ll walk through the valley with you, but it will take that much longer… just more time with you.

I will talk again, but maybe one day, I won’t be able to control my voice. My pitch will be all over the place. But I’ll still speak to you, maybe even sing or croon. I’ll still tell you, my friends and family, that I love you all and treasure you.

God allowed my mother to pass on. Now he’s testing my health and sanity.

game on.

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