Perhaps What You've All Been Waiting For

I've been wrestling with the idea of writing about NF2 for quite some time. I mean obviously I was going to write about it eventually but the question became, what do I write about? I've experienced enough and know enough to fill up endless blogs and pages and notebooks. And I've only been aware of my case for 6 years. Do I write about the specifics of NF2? Or just my case of NF2? Do I write about fundraising for NF2? Do I write about Avastin and my infusions? Do I write about the other patients I've met? The people who've changed my life? Do I write about what NF2 has taken from me, and then what I took back? 

I'm sure I'll eventually cover all those topics, each one is important and means something to me. But today, today I write about my newest development. It's an internal struggle that I cannot seem to quiet. I'm trying to decide if what I've done recently is giving in or growing up. Let me clarify...

The other week I went and got myself a hearing aide for my right ear. It's the ear that still has hearing left. I score (on average) 73% word recognition in that ear. It's doable and I thought I was functioning pretty well. For years I've balked at the idea of a hearing aide. My thoughts being that getting one was a sign of weakness, of giving up. I just don't need another thing wrong with me, another set of doctor appointments, another constant reminder that I'm plagued by something that I cannot control. Things are fine, were fine. 

Then I moved to Tennessee, away from my sister/interpreter, and I gave in. I saw the audiologist down here (she's lovely) and tried out a hearing aide. And yeah, it helps. It helps probably more than I'd like to admit. So, I got one. My very own contraption. I don't strain all day to decipher conversations with people and I don't think I'm nearly as tired at the end of the day. Growth. Progress. But I'm having trouble calling it growing up and most days feel like I gave in. Each time I wrestle it into my ear, it feels like a shot to the ribs. And I can't seem to figure out why I feel this way. Am I just being stubborn? Why should I resist help? Maybe it's because I've been fighting this thing, throwing myself at it for six years. Maybe it's the competitor in me. Maybe I'm just confused. Maybe I just need to give it more time. Most likely I just have more growing up to do. So for now I deal with it, I stuff it into my ear and go about my day. Someday I'm sure I'll gush all over this wondrous and amazing invention but that day is not today.