Postponing Life

I feel like I keep postponing everything in life for my surgery.

For the last entire year, I’ve been working with a government assistance program getting approval for funding my surgery to receive a Cochlear Implant. I’ve been approved yes, but my caseworker has yet to request the actual funds, nor has the surgery been scheduled. Heck, I doubt they’ve even looked at the calendar.

It’s frustrating because I want to just feel sorry for myself. My caseworker sitting at her desk (who is busy doing…..what?) doesn’t seem to understand that every day I don’t have my surgery, is another day that I can’t work. It’s another day I don’t hear my daughter or my son, and another day that my husband and I go through extremes to be able to adequately communicate with each other.


This place is just breathtaking, isn’t it?

My husband and I will celebrate our 10 year anniversary on September 23rd of this year. Our plans for the past year have been to visit England. My husband isn’t much of a museum fanatic, and while we do plan on visiting a few, we want to have a big adventure to celebrate our milestone. We’re renting a car upon arrival (scary, I know), attempting the whole drive-on-the-wrong-side-of-the-road ordeal, and we’re really going to see England. Think road trip!

I’ve been so excited for so long, but I’m fairly certain now that the whole trip will be postponed.
*Big sigh*

Maybe I’m being a little selfish, but I want more than just a trip for us. I want us to be able to talk and laugh with each other with ease for the first time again in years. I want to be overwhelmed by not just all the beautiful sights, but the unending sounds too. I don’t want to have to work so hard to enjoy myself and understand the things going on around me. I want to just be able to relax and take it all in one moment at a time.

I know all I hear is Me, Me, Me. I guess it’s a conversation I’ll have to have with my husband whether we postpone or not. But I think I know what he’ll say.

Three years ago when my little boy was just a year old, I remember being in my large master bathroom, putting make-up on, getting dressed, about to go somewhere or another. My husband was standing at his sink, messing with his hair, and I was telling him I had made the decision that it was time for me to get hearing aids. I couldn’t hear my son laugh anymore, I couldn’t hear my newborn daughter cry, and it just broke my heart.

Being the quick-witted person he always is, my husband makes a jab saying, “What? You didn’t think about me?”

We both laughed, he made a few more quick jokes, but it hit me in the gut. Have you ever tripped and fallen to your bottom so hard that it knocks the wind from you? That’s kind of how I felt right then. My husband is a joker, always the life-of-the-party type of guy, and although he made light of the issue, I felt like it actually smacked me in the face. We had been married a full five five years before having my son and a six years before we had that short conversation, but I wonder in all those years if I had ever thought about the effects my loss of hearing had on not just myself, but on him too. How much could it affect a male ego, especially his, to live for making people laugh, only to have to say a comment three times before your wife understands it? Maybe I’m making a bigger issue of it than it actually is, but I remember that day in our bathroom as a turning point for me. I do what I can to be aware of how much this affects my family as a whole, how much it affects my marriage, and not just how it affects me.

But this beautiful place?


I find that I want to share it with my husband in a time in our lives when communication with each other will be easier. I want us to talk and laugh and revisit those few care-free times at the beginning of our marriage when conversing with each other was easy.

I heard just the other day that a couple who had been married for forty years were separating and I just can’t imagine that. I think about my husband and I, all the momentous difficulties we’ve had, but I see how much we’ve both grown from it. Only I see that we’ve grown together and not apart. And that’s what I want this trip to celebrate. It’s not the ten years of still being married that matters. Anyone can survive numbers. It’s that we’re still enjoying each other after ten solid years. No matter what has hit us, we’re still together pushing through it.

So whether it’s October when we we’re planning to go, or next spring, England will still be around when we celebrate a new beginning to our togetherness. And I plan on understanding every word of it.


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