The Plan

Apparently “The Plan” is that I wait. Again.

Let me tell ya, if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past year, it is patience. Now I’ve never been a very patient person, so all this learning has been done through some serious emotional breakdowns on my part. But I think I’ve got the hang of it now.

The other day, I was informed that after a solid year of testing, I was approved by the Texas Department of Assistive and Rehabilitative Services (henceforth known as DARS) for funding my Cochlear Implant surgery. My caseworker scheduled an appointment with my husband and I to go over what she termed “The Plan”, so we heeded our summons to her office yesterday afternoon.

My husband asked me before the meeting if I knew what we would go over. I told him that, yes, I knew pretty much what would happen because I’ve learned. We will go into the office, she will tell us about the surgery again and that will be it. He will probably think that it will be a total waste of a half-day of vacation, but really it won’t be because taking him to the office with me keeps my caseworker on her toes. I’ve had many appointments with my caseworker and the first time I took my husband with me, she was so nervous she was visibly shaking. And because she’s known to forget that I’m alive, despite various emails and phone calls to her, a small dose of fear might work on my behalf. The funny thing is that if you’ve ever talked with my husband, he’s anything BUT someone to fear. He’s not very tall, and he’s a total goof-off so I have no idea why she was nervous. I don’t question it, I just use it for my benefit .

So when we finally made it to my caseworker’s office, she gave us the run-down on what is covered in the funding. They’ll pay for the actual surgery, where the implant will be surgically placed into my cochlea, and the external sound processor (fancy word for the hearing-aid looking thing I wear that sends the sounds to my implant). Also covered will be six visits to adjust settings on my processor, up to 30 visits with a vocal therapist (who will help me re-learn sounds), and a few other things. What I found interesting was that I was told multiple times in previous meetings by my caseworker that I would be required to take fifteen plus hours of therapy from a psychologist too. Apparently I’m not as crazy as I think I am because she didn’t mention the shrink, nor was it on the paperwork. And the psychologist even told me, after my psychiatric evaluation, that she didn’t think I even needed the sessions. Yay for being normal! Whatever that means.

With all of that new and enlightening information (I’m laughing here), my caseworker informed me that she will not be scheduling my surgery, but another office will. She also mentioned that this other office is not known for their speed in scheduling. I’m thinking this is definitely not a good thing for her to say, because she’s never, and I mean never been known for her own speed. So what does that mean when she’s saying this about them? I shudder to think.

It’s now another waiting game. I’m beyond ready to hear my daughter for the first time, hear my little boy laugh again, and hear all my husbands hilarious antics that I miss so very much.
One day soon I hope!


One response to this post.

  1. Posted by Michael Farrell on May 31, 2010 at 4:55 am

    Nice! Happy news. You can wait a bit more. Hope it works out.


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