Photography and Acoustic Neuromas

 

Is it really already the middle of August? I saw a few yellow leaves drifting slowly to the ground yesterday which can only mean one thing ... fall is just around the corner. Yikes.

You may remember that one of my post-brain tumor gifts was rediscovering my love of photography. I bought a good digital SLR and started learning the world of digital photography. What fun it has been! This summer, in particular, I've been really pushing myself to learn new techniques and to find interesting things to photograph. Lots of fun.

The only minor aggravation is that, as those of you with balance impairment know, if I don't look at the ground where I am walking, I tend to tip over. Well, now, think about that for a minute... if I am looking all over for the next great Kodak Moment, I can't very well be watching my feet, can I? And, keep in mind that I don't really see anything other than a big, fuzzy blurr from my right eye in the best of conditions. Now, I've had over 3 years to get used to this whole balance/vision thing so you would really think I'd be better at it. Based on the flailing and careening I've been doing lately, I'm going to have to say that the balance still needs some work. Ah, the sacrifices we make for our art...

By the way, the humidity is wreaking havoc with my hair, too. See how frizzy it is?

Why Shampooing Can Be Dangerous...

We have cats. And, being cats, they like to toss out the occasional hairball, usually in a place that has the highest visibility or is the most heavily trafficked by human feet. So, one of our angels barfed up a hairball on the stairs (carpeted in off white, need I say more?) I carefully teetered on the stairs and used a little carpet shampoo-er to clean up the spot. Returned the Little Green Machine to it's home in the upstairs closet and then proceeded back down to go about my day. One minute I'm on the steps heading down and the next minute I'm on my back heading down. You see the problem, right?

So here is a note to my self... NEVER wear rubber soled flip flops on wet stairs. N E V E R. No bones broken, but my dignity took quite a beating, and look like I've gone a couple of rounds in a boxing ring.

How's your day?

Genetic Stapling

I am going to start by apologizing to my hubby - sorry, babe, I couldn't resist.

We've recently moved my in-laws to a new home in a new state, which involved packing up their worldly possessions. What we came to realize is that my mother-in-law really likes staples. I mean she REALLY likes staples. So sorting through her paperwork has involved pulling a lot of staples out of clumps of papers. We've kidded her about it and accused her of never meeting two pieces of paper that didn't deserve to be stapled together.

So, we all had some laughs and life goes on. Right? Well, maybe not... Last week I was overcome with an urge to clean up some of our old files. I decided to start with bank statements from 10 years ago. What I quickly remembered is that my hubs (love you tons, honey) likes to save ALL the old ATM receipts. And, let's face it, there is NO reason on earth to save ATM receipts for years. And, not just save them, but staple them to each other and to the bank statements - with HUNDREDS of staples. I sprained all of my fingers and broke three staple removers ... and that only got me as far as 2007.

Yes, folks, apparently stapling is hereditary, some sort of strange gene mutation. I only hope it's not contagious.

What Happened to Me?

I used to be cool. Before my hubs swept me off my feet and moved to the Jersey "burbs," I lived in Mid-town. (Manhattan, of course, because it's the epicenter of cool.) I still retained my essence of coolness out here in the wilds of Jersey. I dressed in "cool" country-chic. Well, okay, I dressed in Levi's, but still...

Then along came this annoying brain tumor and I ended up with a funky eye that doesn't make any tears. Hence the globs of goo in my eye at all times. All the goo creates a hell of a glare, so bright light really hurts the peeper. Sun glasses are a must. So, I quickly purchased prescription sunglasses, but it got incredibly annoying constantly switching between regular and sun glasses. Then, one day, in a fit of utter madness, I went online (because it'd be too embarrassing in person) and ordered ... Fitovers. Yes, you know what I'm talking about. This is what the seniors in Florida wear.

I've tried my best to make these cool, but no matter how I cut it, I look like a bug with giant shiny eyes. I'm terrifying. I am wondering if I should dye my hair blue. What the Hell happened to me, and has anyone seen my "cool?"

Every Day

I stopped in the acoustic neuroma patient forum the other day and was catching up on old friends, saying hi to some newly diagnosed people, when I read a post that kind of got me to thinking. The post was from a guy I respect very much who had a massive tumor removed a few years before I entered the brain tumor scene. He is always able to articulate so well what sorts of things "newbies" could expect, and always does it in a way that isn't frightening. Well, okay, I know that there really isn't anything about a brain tumor that ISN'T frightening - but you know what I mean!

The comment he made was "It is not something you 'get through', recover and move on as if it never happened. Even with the best outcomes, as I experienced, a few 'reminders' are still part of my life." It got me to thinking...

Most of us in this little club have moderate to total hearing loss on the tumor side. Not something other people can see, but something we all have to make accommodations for every single day. In my case, I get up in the morning and snap a little metal box onto a metal rod that is implanted in my skull. Great to be me.

The unlucky few who have permanent nerve damage may start their day, as I do, with a blob of lubricating gel in the eye to keep it from drying out. And, those are the same people who have a blast of panic when they realize that they've left the house without eye drops/gel.

Mind you, I am not complaining. There are SO many people dealing with much worse things every day. But, I do sometimes long for my "old" life, the one that didn't involve bionic ears or eye gel. Just sayin'...

It's All a Matter of Balance...

I remember before I had surgery, the surgeon told me that I would be likely to experience "disequalibrium"... And, I thought to myself, "disequal-WHAT?" Basically that is just a fancy way to say "sorry, kid, your balance is going to suck."

Most of the time, I actually do quite well. I've adapted to having only 50% of a normal person's ability to balance. For example, I don't try to walk around in the yard in the dark, I always use the railing when I'm on stairs, and I have night lights strung out all over the house. Works pretty well. I know that when I am tired, I have to be more careful, and that when there is a lot of sensory input happening, my balance will get much worse. So, where am I going with this?

This past weekend, the hubs and I went to the Bronx Zoo. We both needed a diversion and it was kind of like a mini-vacation. Now, if you've never been there, it is a huge place with lots of indoor and outdoor exhibits. Well, we got out little map and headed out on our grand adventure. One of the first things on our map was an exhibit called "Madagascar" - whoa, cool! In we went.

Now, let me set the stage. The floor was made out of some sort of rubberized material which gave it a slightly squishy consistency. It was dark (simulating night time, I guess). It was REALLY crowded. And, it was REALLY noisy. You with me so far? Uneven surface, dark, and mega-sensory input. All of a sudden, my world felt like an amusement park ride. I grabbed Willie's arm in a death grip, while trying to dig my fingernails into the fake rock wall on my other side. I experienced a fear-induced blast of adrenalin, and a strong desire to claw my way to safety. Happily, we made it out upright and intact. Well, other than the hubs' dislocated shoulder from where I tried to wrench his arm out of its socket.

I am happy to report that the rest of our day was spent upright and oriented - and did not include anymore dark exhibits. Sorry, no bat house. And, no Mouse House, either. Nope. Strictly large mammals for me. Large outdoor mammals.

Single Sided Deafness - Glass half-emtpy or half-full?

I was getting up on the Acoustic Neuroma patient forum today and came across a link for a very well-written essay on single sided deafness. I think this is a good read for anyone who is SSD, as well as those who have the pleasure of living with those of us who are SSD. Enjoy...

http://tribalvillages.org/deaf-essays/single-sided-deafness.html