TWELVE DAYS AND COUNTING

18. May 2016 · Write a comment · Categories: A Personal Journal · Tags: , , ,

Coming up on two weeks post CI surgery and every day there is some noticeable positive change in regards to the incision and surrounding area which was affected with some soreness and sensitivity.

I am finding that waiting is the most difficult part of recovery. The device won’t be activated until June 9th, and at this point that seems like a long time off. Meanwhile, I have developed some worrisome vertigo/dizziness that is not that unusual and is mostly temporary. I can’t tell you how much I am longing for the “temporary” part to kick in.

I was released to “full duty” (whatever that means) and spent the better part of an hour cutting grass – walking behind a lawnmower. It was good exercise for me and the dizziness seemed to be helped by the effort. Then this morning it was back. I am reminded of the old principle of two steps forward, one step back. There is progress, but not without encumbrances.

CA, my partner in life, says I think about this too much. She’s right of course.

Here is an interesting sidebar to all this. What are the chances that two people in Maine were having CI surgery on the same day in the same city, on the same ear? What’s more, what are the chances that each of these people are partnered with a retired nurse, both of whom were involved in hospice work? What a hoot! We connected on a forum sponsored by the people who make the devices we are getting. When the coincidences became known we decided ti meet for coffee. It was one of those “I’ll show you mine if you will show me yours”, kind of things. It was fun and quite comforting to talk with someone who was going through the same experiences that I was having.

Since my vertigo seem to get somewhat better from being up and moving around, I’ll see if a little more grass cutting might be in my future. Let’s see now – where did I put that bug dope?

Be well, and stay tuned.

IMPLANTED AND WAITING

10. May 2016 · Write a comment · Categories: A Personal Journal · Tags: , ,

On the morning of May 6, 2016, I received a cochlear implant at Tufts Medical Center in Boston. All reports say it was a successful operation and that the device works. I can’t tell you how happy I am to know that. It won’ t be activated for another month, which is a little longer than usual because of some personal conflicts.

We spent the night before – because I was first in line at 6am, and the night after the operation in Boston – because we figured after a general anesthesia and the two hour bus ride ahead of us we thought we might be better off staying over. It was a good decision.

It could be said that we didn’t sleep well in Boston. The tension before and the discomfort after the procedure fought against relaxing and sleeping. As soon as my head hit my own pillow I was out like a light. I have been able to sleep well for the past three nights as well as the odd pick-up nap here and there.

I thought I would just pop back and take up normal activities quickly. I quickly discovered that there was hardly any pop at all. I mean it was surgery on my head, general anesthesia, pain medication and – – – my age. That’s the clincher.

The idea of “Day Surgery” tends to instill a false sense of “Easy”. It ain’t that easy. At least not for octogenarians. It is true that you walk in and walk out. But you walk out with something less than what you brought in.

I’m good. I’d do it again. But it’s this kind of experience that really defines what it means to be old. Diminishing resilience. The bounce is gone. I could write a book about that.

Stay tuned.