blink of an eye

Five years.
In several weeks it will be five years since that fateful day when I awoke to my life-changing hearing loss.
Five years.
Since that time, my whole world has changed. Can you imagine going to bed a healthy normal hearing person and waking up the following morning with bilateral hearing loss...near profound? Can you imagine being a music teacher to boot?
I really wanted to give up many times. Sometimes I think, how did I make it?? How did I continue to work? How do you go forward and not hang onto the bitterness that threatens to take hold?
Since that morning, so much has happened in my life. I have been through a lot. Too much I think sometimes. But I see my life now and I realize that as much as someone that survives an illness they shouldn't survive, walks away from a car crash that should have taken their life, I am here doing the unthinkable (teaching music as a deaf person) ... it must be in the plans somewhere.
Long story short... Five years later... I now have two cochlear implants. I am a bionic woman for sure! I am still teaching music. I get to occasionally work for the company that produces my implants, I am a mentor for those considering implants for themselves. I have two healthy children. I go to church every Sunday.
Not too long ago I played my flute publicly--the first time really since the hearing loss. It was the music prior to the baccalaureate service for graduates at the school district where I work. I was a little nervous, but once I let go of that fear and played. Oh, it felt so great!!
Last week I had the opportunity to speak for the state auditors convention. Tomorrow morning I fly back to Los Angeles to do a little bit of work for Advanced Bionics.
I guess if the sky were the limit... what would I do next?
Well... I still feel that nagging to write a book. My story is unique. I still hope to have more opportunities to talk about my story, whether it is individually through the people I mentor or for groups.
Now I don't spend a lot of time looking back. I stay busy. I focus on what is in front of me. I also don't look too far ahead. One thing is for sure... we never now what tomorrow may bring. I learned that things can literally change overnight, and the plans we work so diligently at... those can be disrupted in the blink of an eye.

some updates

Last week I was singing happy birthday to my left implant. My surgery on my second implant was a year ago on Addison's birthday. My activation anniversary isn't until the 21st of this month.

You know it is hard to express how much my implants have changed my life. Sometimes I am hearing so well that when I am frustrated with something I need to remind myself of the obstacles I face daily. Some days I will hear something and say... Wow..I heard that for myself!
And the longer the time between the initial hearing loss and each new day, the pain really gets better. The way I am hearing now is my "new normal"and that yardstick to which I used to compare everything to, that strong auditory memory...has diminished. I used to just be sick to my stomach at times listening to my choir and remembering how it should sound in comparison to the feedback I was actually getting. It didn't just emotionally hurt, I could get pangs in my chest longing to hear "normally." I didn't think that would ever go away, but it has gotten to the point that I may be aware of it on some level but I am focusing now on the information I am getting, and my brain is sending signals to those memories that this is "normal." Gosh, I hope that makes sense.

I would say over the summer was a turning point for me. I cannot pinpoint the day and time but I can tell you at some point my grieving process was over. I don't find myself looking back the way I used to. I find myself looking forward. I don't feel "fragile" emotionally like I used to feel (in private...never in public). It is amazing how getting to the other side of the grieving process allows you so much more energy. Not that I went around sad, I coped well with my situation but it was always there on some level.

What is on the horizon for me? I am traveling to California for the Bionic Ear Association mentor training. I am really looking forward to it, though it will be the first time I will be flying by myself. I'm not gonna lie... I am nervous. I am afraid on my layover I am not going to hear my flight being called. But, I am excited about the opportunity to be a mentor and I think this is a good challenge for me... I want to prove to myself that I can travel alone.

Work is astounding me. I cannot believe how much I can hear and how much I am capable of. For the first time since my loss I don't feel like I have something to prove. I know I am competent and if anything my disability pushes me past the normal person's whining. I don't see myself as being limited now like I used to feel. Again, that yardstick thing... I am who I am now, not wishing to be the old me, not carrying around grief.