Ba-Ha-Ha-Ha

That is the sound I like to make just before I head out for vacation! But, today, it has another meaning...

You might recall that I am deaf on one side thanks to the Big Brain Tumor Adventure of 2008. I must say that the first year after surgery I was dealing with so many other things (like a paralyzed face) that I didn't really realize how frustrating it was going to be to have impaired hearing.

Most people equate this to a hearing loss, as in diminished hearing. It's actually quite different. My hearing on the Left side is excellent - really, I can hear a mouse fart in the woods. Unless there is any sort of background noise ... lawnmowers, air conditioners, people talking, music, wind in the trees, etc. And you'd be amazed at how much background noise exists in our normal, day to day lives! The more sources of noise there are, the more strain it puts on my "good" ear and my brain. You see, when you have a total hearing loss on one side, you lose the ability to be able to filter noise effectively. All the noises arrive at the good ear at the same time, which makes it quite difficult for your brain to process each noise individually. What frequently happens is that all you really hear is a blast of noise - voices tend to run together, background noise overrides other noises that you would normally be able to isolate. All in all, it is frustrating and it is also very tiring. So, why am I talking about this? (And, no, I'm not whining...)

Well, several weeks ago I went to get my hearing checked in my good ear (a yearly occurrence now since it is the only ear I have left). While I was there, I had them evaluate me for a Bone Anchored Hearing Device (Baha, by Cochlear). This is a pretty cool thing that allows your skull to conduct sound waves to your "good" ear. It is also a pretty major commitment. It involves having a titanium "abutment" (think screw) embedded in your skull above the deaf ear. Once the screw has been occified into the mastoid bone of your skull (which takes about 3 months), you can then snap a small sound processor onto the abutment and ... voila, you have some degree of bilateral hearing! Of course, once the screw is in there, it is there for life, so you kind of need to be sure you are okay with that. If you can embrace your inner Frankenstein, though, it seems like a good way to simulate some sort of normal hearing.

Like all things, it has some limitations. Friends who have a Baha tell me that it doesn't "sound" like regular hearing, it has a bit of a tinny sound to it. And, most people still can't tell where sound is coming from (directionality, or localization.) But, it does allow you to know when someone on your deaf side is talking. And, it does allow you to filter some of the background noise which makes it easier to comprehend words. It even has a little adapter so that you can plug in a device like an iPod.

So, over the next few weeks, I will be making a decision to whether I want to become a "bolt head." And, if the decision is yes, then I will start what will surely be a battle royal with the insurance company to cover the operation and device.

If you'd like to know more about the Baha, you can check out their website at
http://products.cochlearamericas.com/baha/introduction-to-baha

LaZ Boy

Okay, first let me fall on my own sword. I can't believe it has been nearly a month since I blogged. Mea culpa. I will use the excuse that I've been busy, but that's pretty weak.

So, what inspired me today? Well, actually it is something that I've been driving past for the last year. And, every time I see it, it bothers me. What am I talking about? The LaZ Boy.

There are a couple of things here that are concerning me. First, and perhaps most obvious, is the fact that this cloth recliner (LaZ Boy, if you will) sits out front of this store on NJ State Route 206 day after day, rain or shine. Think about it. Can you even imagine how nasty it must smell? Euw. And how many mice call it home? It boggles the mind. Frankly, the reason this picture isn't great is because I was afraid to get out of my car and approach the damned thing. There is nothing that would induce me to buy a recliner from this place. NOTHING.

But here is the thing that really concerns me, and something I think you men should rise up and fight about. LaZ Boy. Why not LaZ Girl? Or, even better, how about a gender-neutral LaZ Person? Men, if I were you, I'd be plenty pissed about this! And, I wouldn't stand for it!! Rise up and revolt! Don't let the recliner people imply that you are lazy, or that you are boys. Enough, I say!

Scarred For Life

No, I’m not referring to the scar on the side of my skull, although to tell the truth, it's pretty impressive. I’m talking about some of the things I am forced to look at as I go about my day. Take, for example, the guy I saw strutting down the side of a busy country highway – no shirt, big furry belly. Euw. Will I ever be able to get that image out of my head??

And, that got me to thinking about some of the other things that no human being should ever have to see. Let’s start with big girls in skinny jeans and tube tops. Whoa. That paints a picture, doesn’t it? I take small comfort in knowing that these girls are paying attention to the “tanning is bad for you” message, which I know to be true by seeing the expanse of lily white flesh flowing over the top of said skinny jeans. I ask you – how is it possible that anyone actually think that this is attractive???

And, while I am at it, let’s talk about Spandex. I was going to suggest that no woman (or man) over the age of 16 should be allowed to own spandex, but maybe I am being too generous. I say we outlaw it all together. I can’t think of a single person whose looks improve with spandex. Can you?

Finally, what about butt cleavage??? You know what I’m talking about – don’t pretend like you’ve never seen this. Because I know that once you’ve seen butt cleavage, the image is burned into your retinas for life. And, ladies, I’m not just talking about the guys here! Butt cleavage on ladies isn’t very attractive either. Seriously, get a belt or suspenders, or pants that fit. We don’t want to see your but – period!

I am sure some of you will have more suggestions to beautify our world, protect our eyes, and prevent us from undue trauma. Right?

WHAT???

Usually when I utter the word "What" it means that I didn't hear something (that whole single side deaf thing.) However, today's "What" is about something entirely different, something I've been having an internal rant about for some time now. The "What" I refer to is the absolutely ridiculous signs that I see being proudly displayed as if the owner didn't have a single working brain cell. Yep, I'm getting wound up! Get ready!

The latest "What" sign is this one. Take a good look at it. Consider it. Ask yourself these questions:

1) Who is "We"
2) What is "We" renting?
3) Assuming that I actually wanted to rent whatever it is that "We" is offering, how in Hell would I contact them?

Seriously. This sign (We Rent) is sitting on a vacant lot with only dirt and boulders - nothing else. It's killing me. I want so much to meet whatever Einstein put this up and ask them the compelling question - What were you thinking???

Frankly, this sign is even more confounding than the one at the local convenience store that says "Free Coffee with Bait." Huh? Does that mean that the coffee has small fish in it? What if I don't want bait with my coffee? Can I get coffee sans bait?

Seriously...

Okay, so some of you are staring at this rather scruffy looking thing and wondering - what the hell IS that thing?? That, my friends, is a rather large possum. Willie noticed it lumbering across our back yard this morning, so I raced outside with my camera to get a shot. It's pretty unusual to see these guys out during the day as they prefer the dark of night for their adventures. He was not at all impressed with me or my camera and continued to amble off into the woods as if he didn't have a care in the world. Nature - you gotta love it!

Willie may have a slightly different slant on the whole nature thing since he came face-to-face with a black bear over the weekend. He was doing his biathlon (run/bike/run/collapse) and was on the bike when a medium sized bear ran out of the woods about 50 feet in front of him. Willie said that both he and the bruin skidded to a halt and gave each other the eye. Fortunately, the bear conceded and ran off into the woods. Willie got that part of the biathlon done in record time.

I'll have to see what else turns up. Stay tuned...

Glad Press & Seal Plastic Wrap

Okay, first of all, let me start by saying that I am not, nor have I ever been, an employee or spokesperson for Glad. That said, I would like to take a minute to extol the virtues of this modern day miracle product!

To back up just a bit, let me tell you about the glorious day when I first discovered Glad P 'n' S. You may recall that I ended up with a post surgical infection after my brain surgery several years ago which necessitated me having a peripheral internal cardiac catheter (PICC) line "installed" so that I could infuse myself twice daily with an elixir of antibiotics. Stay with me here, I'm getting to the good part.

Because the PICC stays in your body for about 6 weeks, and because it ends up very close to your heart (hence the "cardiac catheter" part of the name,) it is imperative that the external part of the line (the part than hangs out of your arm) is kept very clean. It must also be kept very dry. Which is where the Glad P 'n' S comes into play.

For the first few days I tried encasing my arm in a plastic trash back, taped to my arm pit and shoulder with duct tape. Yeah, well, I am sure you can see the problems with this. Duct tape is waterproof, which is the good news - it also tries to become permanently adhered to your most tender body parts, which is the not-so-good part. After several days of this, I was becoming desperate. Not only did my arm have bits of duct tape stuck to it, but I was quickly going through our entire supply of plastic garbage bags. Never mind that I couldn't hold the bar of soap in my right hand because said hand was encased in a plastic garbage bag. And forget about maintaining any level of attractiveness for my poor husband!

So, somewhere I had read about people using plastic wrap to cover wounds and other things that need to stay dry. Really? Sounds great! So off to the store I went to search the plastic wrap aisle. And, as I was inspecting the goods, my eyes landed on ... Glad Press 'n' Seal! That looked like it just might work - and if not, I could always use it to wrap food!

Okay, I'll confess right now - Glad Press 'n' Seal changed my life!! I was able to wrap a big hunk of it around my arm where it stayed tightly sealed and water tight, allowing me to shower in comfort. And, best of all, it came off easily and didn't cause any sort of adhesive rash. Bonanza! Since then, I panic if I see the supply running low.

So, why bring this up now, two years later? Last week I came down with some sort of icky wrashy thing on my arms. The doctor proclaimed it to be "contact dermatitis" which is doc-speak for "yep, you've got something and we don't have a clue what it is." So, in addition to several prescriptions, the doctor instructed me to put Domeboro Astringent compresses on it several times a day. Since the affected areas were on my inner forearms, it was pretty awkward to sit there with wet, drippy compresses - every time I so much as twitched, they'd slide off and I would have to start all over again. And, then I though "Hey, wait a minute! You've got Glad Press 'n' Seal!" So now I sit here typing this with both arms wrapped snuggly in Glad, compresses in place, happy as a clam. (And, what does that mean - are clams really that happy?)

To the people at Glad - if you've got your Google alerts set to pick up online mentions of your products, I just want to say that you are missing a marketing opportunity here. There is money to be made in the post surgical, wrash, PICC line community. Personally, I think you're sitting on a gold mine. But that's just me...

Have a great day! (And, to the people at Glad, if you want to send me a check, feel free...)

That Sucks

When I first learned, in March of 2008, that I had this thing in my head called an Acoustic Neuroma, I was completely lost. I felt fortunate in the respect that I had good medical insurance, but that wasn't much help in terms of finding surgeons who actually knew what to do with an acoustic neuroma - what I didn't want was some lay-neurosurgeon who viewed AN surgery as some big adventure. I remember going to my insurance company's website and doing a search for "neurosugeon". Well, that was horrendous - it produced hundreds of results (I live in the greater NYC metropolitan area) with absolutely no way of ascertaining what type of neurosurgery any of them did.

I remember being paralyzed for the first few days. I'd sit at my computer and do endless searches on my insurance company's website, trying to find out what kind of surgeon I needed. Willie put out a query on the ANAUSA website and we got a couple of names - I ran them through the website and NONE of them was a participant in my plan. I really spiraled into despair at that point. In fact, I would say that was the most stressful part of this entire journey. I called a friend in NYC who called her ENT and was given 4 names - NONE in my insurance.

At the time, I didn't know that there are actually 2 surgeons involved in the surgery. Why is that significant? Because if either one of them was in my plan, there would be a way to get the procedure covered. I went through several days of what I recall as sheer hell until I found the name Golfinos in my insurance plan. Bingo!! He worked with another surgeon named Roland who had been highly recommended through several sources. It all worked out. Golfinos admitted me and submitted all of the insurance paperwork, including approval for the insurance plan to cover the cost of Roland. I was extremely fortunate that I was able to get two such remarkably skilled and experienced surgeons. And, I was able to have surgery at one of the leading medical school hospitals in the country.

We ran up against some post surgical challenges since my recovery was not a smooth one in many respects, and I ended up needing to be under the care of Dr Roland for a long time (still am, in fact.) We were able to negotiate a rate with him for my ofice visits and we pay cash for all of them. Our insurance company does not pay one red penny, but it is worth it to me to continue under his care since I have had so many challenges with facial nerve recovery. And, I really, really like him!

I have gotten my follow up MRI's with Dr Golfinos and that's gone along just fine since he's covered by the insurance.

And then, today, I get a letter in the mail from Dr. Golfinos' office saying that as of June 23, he will no longer accept my insurance. What???? Shit. I must say that it has left me feeling ... a bit scared. What if the damned thing grows back? I would have to seek out other surgeons since paying out of pocket for brain surgery isn't really an option. Yes, I know that I am looking at the dark side. I'm entitled to feel upset for a day. And, then, I'll figure out what to do. Best case scenario, I will continue with my aftercare with Dr Roland and have him read my annual MRI. Worst case, I will have to look for new doctors. But that would suck. Really suck. I'm hoping for Plan A...