Posts Tagged ‘surgery’

Chains of Habit

Life is 10% of what happens to me and 90% of how I react to it.

So says a favorite author and motivational speaker of mine, John Maxwell. I gotta give the guy credit. In my own life, I find this adds up to 100% of what’s happening to me here and now.

Habits die hard, don’t they? And the further I get down the road with my cochlear implant, the more I realize that the decisions I make right now will define the habits I create for my future. I know this is deep. So crazy deep for what I had originally envisioned as a lighthearted and not-so-deep blog. But if there’s one thing I haven’t been shy about yet, it’s the fine details of living through a deaf life and on through the recovery of a cochlear implant recipient.

Here’s the thing. I totally didn’t see all the psychological effects that this thing would have on me. Somewhere near the six month post activation date, I felt like I was hit by a freight train called Reality. Yeah, I was hit. Reality told me that the chain of habit that held me back, more than anything else, is…

Fear.

One four letter word. Awful, isn’t it?

What I fear most is being unable to hear someone. It’s fear that when someone calls me, I won’t be able to understand them. It’s fear that I won’t hear a passing car when I’m walking with my kids. It’s fear that I won’t understand someone in public and I’ll be humiliated by saying something completely off-topic. It’s Fear. Fear. Fear.

But I have a choice. The truth is that the fear is a product of living hard of hearing and deaf for a great many years. It’s evidence that something traumatic happened to me. The great big thing is that, just as Mr. Maxwell so eloquently spoke, the bigger percentage is in how I react to what happened.

A few months ago my son needed a doctor’s appointment to finish up his required shots for entering kindergarten. I called the office without much thought, and I was smacked in the face with what I felt was failure. For the life of me, I could not understand the office’s receptionist and had to have my husband call them back to schedule the appointment. Over the course of the next few weeks, I’d have my husband and my mom make phone calls for me, and I hardly answered my phone at all in those weeks. I didn’t think I could do it.

It’s so easy to fall back into patterns that are so known to us, and I wonder how often we even realize it. For weeks, I just sat back and accepted that one failure instead of jumping up to fight it. It was one failure. One.

This month I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had a choice but to answer my phone. I’ve talked to my husband, my mom, three sister-in-laws, and probably several others too. Each phone conversation has been a little step for me, and I’m so crazy glad that I was pretty much forced to receive or make those calls.

The big thing about those calls is that they were to family members. Every one of those family members knows about my CI journey, so it’s easy if I can’t quite catch what they’re saying. They understand.

I made progress. I returned a call to someone that I have never spoken to on the phone. This is seriously the first phone call I’ve made to someone I don’t know since that doctor’s appointment. Unfortunately I got a voicemail. Or would that be fortunate? I was cringing when I made the call, quite literally petrified to even make the call, but the good news is that I did.

I’m telling myself right now that I will call the lady again. Or I will answer the phone if she calls back. It’s terrifying. It is. And I allow myself to think that it’s ok. It’s ok that I’m scared, since most all of us have a little hesitation at the unknown, but it’s really important that regardless of what I feel, I must choose to go forward. It’s a hard road to look past insecurities and take a leap to break those chains of habit, but if I don’t, I will miss out on even greater things with this implant. My cochlear implant can only do as much as I let it.

So for all you recipients out there who I know read this, let this be a lesson for all of us. Don’t let that measly 10% of what happened to us affect the 90% of what we can choose to be.

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The Big Decision Part 3

(Read Part 1 or Part 2)

There are several reasons I initially didn’t want to consider a cochlear implant (CI). I will admit that most of my issues with CI were based on facts from a decade before. But beyond that, the first and foremost reason that I didn’t want a CI was that everything that I had read told me that any hearing I had left in my ear would be destroyed upon having surgery for a CI.

When CI was recommended that day by my ENT, my thoughts were I’m only 27. To me, that’s pretty young. What if five years from now, doctors can do some sort of surgery or procedure that doesn’t kill any hearing I have left? I mean, if they destroy my hearing with a CI and it doesn’t work or I don’t like it, there’s absolutely no going back. Do I want that?

And I didn’t want that. Who would?

The other reason I didn’t want CI stemmed from the fact that I knew someone who had a CI. And from what I could tell, that person communicated about as well as I could if I had just got some hearing aids at that time. Granted, the person I knew who had a CI had the surgery done a decade before I sat in my ENT’s office that day.

Raise you’re hand if you know that technology advances nearly as fast as we breathe?!

Raise your hand if you realize that a CI is a piece of technology?!

Let’s just say both of my hands were in my lap the day I was first recommended to get CI, because I was completely oblivious to all that. And honestly? I’m very glad I chose that day to adamantly tell them no. I’d never worn any type of hearing aid in my 27 years, and I see now that it was a big step for me. The type of hearing aid I would have to wear was over the ear and a hey-look-at-me-and-my-huge-hearing-aid-so-obviously-I-can’t-hear-very-well type of thing. To someone who has worn hearing aids for years, it’s no big deal. It’s like wearing your glasses to the store on a day you don’t feel like sticking in contacts. But for me it was like wearing glasses for the very first time in public. It was a big deal.

The ENT and Audiologist I saw that day (who are not the same ones I now see for my CI) clearly thought I was a little mental in wanting only hearing aids, but I was ok with that.

I was eventually sent by DARS to an Audiologist on my side of town to be fitted for hearing aids the following summer, in 2008.

I distinctly remember walking out of the Audiologist office the day I got my first set of hearing aids. The freeway ran right in front of the office, and it was amazing to me to be able to hear cars driving by. I would later drive to a local store and jump back about three feet when I was assaulted with the noise of the doors sliding open. It was overwhelming to me.

Hearing aids helped me much more than I had expected. They really did. Looking back, I realize how much my life would have changed for the better if I’d got them after that first hearing test as an adult. Sure, they didn’t bring back every bit of hearing, but the fact that they helped at all meant that my life was better because of it. You can bet that I had a very big moment when I realized I should have said years prior to that, Who cares if anybody knows I can’t hear? I don’t! I need help, and these hearing aids will help! But me, being me, cared too much what people thought.

Let that be a lesson for you. Sometimes when we care too much about what other people think, we miss out on a better life than we could have if we just didn’t let it bother us. Something I still need to hear. Even today.

Post-op update. In preparation of activation.

My post-op report is definitely long overdue.

It’s been nearly two weeks since my post-op visit to my ENT, and since then I have spent six days with my daughter running a 104 degree temperature, due to the flu, and nearly another solid week entertaining my children during all the icy weather in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. For any parent who has spent two straight weeks with children cooped up inside, I’m sure you understand the great undertaking of keeping young kiddos occupied.

But lets get straight to the topic at hand. It involves barnyard animals and a strange lump on my neck. You knew that, right?

For the first week post-op, I did absolutely nothing. My clean house certainly didn’t stay clean, but after going through childbirth twice, I know how important it is for my recovery to be inactive for a week. By day 8 post-op, I was about ready to go stir crazy.

My husband and I decided on Day 8 to take the kiddos to a Stock Show that was going on that week. You may think that I was overdoing, as some people have already thought, but it was a very laid back ordeal. We got to the place early, so that we could park close, and walked across the street to all the different barns where the animals were. We had a stroller for our youngest, and we walked pretty slow up and down the rows of cattle, sheep, chickens, birds, and about any other barn critter you can think of. The kids loved it.

The thing about young children is that their attention span is incredibly short-lived. We were there an hour and mine had seen all the animals that they wanted to see. By the time we walked out of that building, back through the throngs of people now there, and to the car, we had been there for a solid 90 minutes total.

On the way to the Stock Show, I had fairly annoying headaches, prompting me to take a tylenol, but by the time I sat down and was riding home, my headache was pretty severe. I had only taken my prescription painkillers for two or three days following surgery before feeling well enough to switch to tylenol, but the headache I was experiencing Saturday sent me straight back to the prescription painkillers.

And by mid-afternoon, after arriving home, I found a lump on my neck.

The lump I found on my neck was about two inches below my surgical ear, was the size of a marble, and was hard. Like a lump. My husband kept feeling of it, and we both freaked out a little bit. My husband wondered if part of my implant had slipped down, since we couldn’t tell where my implant was on my head, so we were pretty quick to take action. The hospital where I had my surgery done is quite a distance from our house, so my husband called the hospital to decide if we needed to drive out there. The doctor on call told us that it was probably fluid retention, but to call my ENT first thing Monday morning.

Sunday the lump got bigger. After finding it on Saturday, I literally laid around the house and didn’t move much. So I was surprised on Sunday to find that it was quite a bit larger than the marble size of the day before. I felt a lot of pressure in my surgical area and neck, prompting more headaches, so I just kept resting and taking pain meds throughout all of Sunday and Monday morning as we attempted to contact my ENT.

Monday mid-morning my mom finally got in touch with my ENT. He had been in surgery all morning, but returned the call when he came out. He also said that it was probably fluid retention, but asked a series of questions (do I have fever?- how bad is the pain? etc). If I had been in an enormity of pain, he said to come out to the hospital and he would see me immediately, but I wasn’t really in so much pain that I felt it warranted a trip to the ER.

When I think about how much the lump freaked me out, I realize how much it’s from listening to doctors go on about lumps. I’m always told at the OBGYN to check for lumps, the importance of going into the office any time I feel a lump, and that jazz, that I just figured this whole lump thing was a big deal. But apparently it’s not really necessary for someone to get really worked up about. It’s just important to get it checked out.

So I did. I held off going in to the ER that Monday in favor of the already-scheduled appointment I had on Wednesday of that week. At some point between Monday and Wednesday, the lump went down significantly. No more larger-than-marble or even marble-size. It was less, although still there. And when my ENT felt it, he did confirm that it was just extra fluid. No major procedures needed, it just would eventually fade out. And it has.

In addition to all that, my first post-op visit was successful. Although I was not activated that day, my doctor did have the magnet checked on my implant. Success! The magnet on the processor connected without difficulty.

The swelling had also gone down enough on my head that my activation date was moved from February 17th to February 9th. Activation is now just two days away, 26 days post-op, at I’m pretty excited. It’s been a heck of a hearing loss journey, and it’s one that I’m so grateful is finally ending.

Beginning will be my hearing journey, one I will be much happier in telling.

Surgery Revision has arrived

So today, at around 2pm, I had my surgery revision for my cochlear implant. As I sit here, I’m simply astounded by the fact that I am actually sitting here, in not-so-much pain, writing about it all.

If you haven’t read about my last surgery, you might not know how difficult the initial surgery is for a cochlear implant recipient. When I think about whether or not I will eventually chose to have a second implant (after I have the life-altering experience from hearing from this first one), I really can’t say whether or not I’d want to go through that all over again. Talk about being incapacitated for a solid week. It was serious stuff.

But I’m so happy to say that this revision surgery was completely different. Today, my doctor was able to make about a 2″ incision and just move the implant a little higher up my scalp. Because the surgery was so minimally invasive, I have full neck mobility and zero problems with my balance/equilibrium. My neck is sore, and I certainly feel pain from the incision, but it’s nothing like the first surgery, when I was unable to look left or right without moving my entire body, or was in tears the first time I had to bend over to brush my teeth. I’m one happy camper as far as recovery goes.

But. There’s some not-so-great news too. I’ve chosen to focus on the positive, because it really is good, but I also feel the need to be transparent here.

When my husband and I got to the hospital, signed all the necessary paperwork, and I changed and was set up in a pre-op bed, both doctors came and talked to me for a few minutes to let me know what was gonna go down in the OR. (I’ve obviously watched too much Grey’s Anatomy if I’m saying OR instead of Operating Room). After talking/meeting with the Anesthesiologist for a few minutes, my ENT came to discuss his end of the deal. He told us that he was going to attempt to make as small an incision as possible and just move the implant up a bit. My husband asked if the implant would be tested after that, and that’s where things get a little sketchy.

After my first surgery in September, and my implant activation failed, my doctor had told us that a representative from Cochlear would be present during my surgery to test the implant. But (cue dirge-like music) my implant was not tested during surgery. When we had the chance to talk to my doc before surgery, my husband asked if the implant would be tested, and my doc said it would not. According to the doc, he has never had an implant not work properly. Granted, it would be a serious lawsuit for Cochlear if a patient received a non-working implant, but wouldn’t you want to check during surgery, just in case?

I certainly could have chosen to forgo the surgery without the Cochlear rep, but I figured the odds are greater that the implant was just placed wrong than the implant failing to work right. I mean, it’s like I’ve said before, a magnet can’t malfunction and I highly doubt that Cochlear forgot to put the magnet in the implant. So we’re out on a limb here, believing that the implant will truly work like it’s created to do. And it better!

There’s one last little tidbit of bad news. Ok, maybe “bad news” is stretching it a bit. Or maybe I’m just a little materialistic. Or maybe not.

Just before wheeling me in to surgery, the operating nurse (sorry I haven’t been paying enough attention to Grey’s Anatomy for the proper name here) came to introduce herself and take me to the OR. One look at her and I remembered her. Hair net, mouth-cover-up-thing and all, I completely recognized her as the OR nurse from the last time. Don’t get me wrong, she’s nice and all. Until she wields her razor!

I’m pretty sure my husband recognized her too, because when she asked if we had questions before she carted me off, my husband asked, nicely of course, if she could do her best to not shave more of my hair than necessary. Because really, let’s get real here, it’s not necessary to shave the portion of my hair in front of my ear. There’s not a way to tell yet how much was shaved yet, however, since my head is all wrapped up. And I do suppose that even if I was shaved bald (which I wasn’t), I’ll be happy to hear my daughter for the first time, regardless. But here’s to hoping that I have enough hair left for a ponytail!

All in all, I’m happy with the outcome today. I’m fortunate that surgery went so well, was actually less than an hour surgery-wise, and I know my future will be better because of it. I’m very optimistic that even without the Cochlear rep, this surgery will fix the problem that I had with activation. I’m already anticipating being able to hear so many sounds!
I’m not sure when my activation date is, but I certainly plan on writing about all my escapades as a hearing individual. I’m off to go recuperate (as in take some more pain meds and stick on a feel-good movie), but I will check back in with my activation date soon. And you can bet that I’ll be writing about all those new sounds I hear when that comes around!

Much ado about nothing. Or that’s what I thought yesterday.

It’s funny.

It’s pretty stinkin’ hilarious.

It’s just craaaaazy to think that I still don’t have a second surgery date yet. Isn’t it?

Ok fine, that’s a joke in itself, but never fear because the end is near.

The last few weeks have just flown for me. I realize I’ve been incredibly absent here, but frankly, I just didn’t have the heart to write. I’ve been placing all of my energy in not thinking about the fact that I can’t hear during this otherwise lovely season. Christmas. My favorite time of year. I know so many people who pride themselves in shopping exclusively online for Christmas, but I used to just love walking into the grocery or department store and listening to the familiar sounds of the newest version of an age-old Christmas carol. It always just put a skip in my step and happy little smirk on my face that I just didn’t get any other time of the year. It’s just always been such a happy season for me.

Granted, I’ve not heard Christmas carols for some time now, but this year it’s so much more work to not miss hearing them. I don’t ask myself why, because I know why. The hearing world was just dangling within reach a few short months ago, only to be yanked away rather too quickly.

It reminds me of dieting. I love sugar. Dessert. All things sweet. So you can imagine that I very rarely keep sugar in my house that tempts me. If I don’t keep it here at the house, then I don’t have to worry about satisfying those cravings too often. Makes sense, right? But this thing with my implant not working is so hard to deal with. I’m walking around with a sixty thousand dollar implant in my head that’s supposed to fix my hearing, a big fat piece of chocolate cake sitting in front of me, but I have no fork! Frustrating for sure. I can’t figure how the analogy of digging into the cake with my hands would relate, so we just won’t go there. Besides, I don’t like getting my hands dirty anyway.

So many many moons ago, I found that my case never went to Austin. I also now realize that the fill-in caseworker (Caseworker Jane) never actually stated that my case went to Austin. I’ve spent the past few days digging through all my emails, printing everything printable, and it looks as though Caseworker Jane only sent my case to a local medical examiner. However, my actual caseworker, Caseworker Jezabel (who is back in the office), has an assistant. Ms. Assistant lady did assure my mom that the file had gone to Austin. So somewhere someone is lyin’ or just uninformed. Or confused. I know I am.

Up until yesterday, I still had no idea if the case was, in fact, ever in Austin. The day Caseworker Jezabel returned, she told my mom that it was weird that Caseworker Jane even requested the CT scan, or even sent my file to a medical examiner, because it should have just gone straight to Austin for approval. Caseworker Jezabel also informed my mom that she sent off the paperwork to Austin on November 17th. Fourteen days ago as of yesterday. And all I wanted to know was that Austin has it this time around. Was that too much to ask? I really don’t think so.

So here’s why I’ve been AWOL. My city has a Center for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing. They do lots of stuff like support groups, seminars, technology info, and just all sorts of information for anything related to being Deaf of Hard of Hearing. When I first pursued an interest in the Cochlear Implant, I met with the woman, Karen, who is over the Center. Super nice lady. Mature, probably in her sixties, and a very no-nonsense type person, but has a very big heart for people looking into CI, simply because she’s also had the surgery and has been very happy with it. My mom and I made another appointment to talk with her again a week ago, and she was very helpful. She showed a genuine interest in the difficulties that we’ve had. She went so far as to tell me that on Friday a lady from Austin, who deals with the approval that I need, would be at the Center for a training seminar. Karen told me to print off any and all emails, correspondence, and typed up phone conversations and to make a report with all of this information. Handed to her, Karen would personally give the report to the woman coming from Austin. Sounds fab, right?

I spent a great many hours over the past week getting all this information together and lo and behold… I found out on Wednesday that the lady from Austin was no longer coming to town. No, I will not have a major meltdown. Won’t happen!

It was certainly not Karen’s fault. She was being so gracious to offer, and she did still say that if I give her the information, she’d gladly send it to Austin personally. But my mom and I decided to go a different direction. Granted, I did still take the full finalized report to Karen today, but my mom and I decided that we just didn’t want to wait another day, another week, or another month for the paperwork to change hands to the right person. I’m so grateful for people as kind as Karen, but I just couldn’t be patient any longer.

So yesterday my mom and I found a DARS information line. My mom called it and was referred to a lady in management at Caseworker Jezabel’s office. We’ll call this lady Ms. Boss. I’d never seen nor heard of Ms. Boss. We’re not sure what her position is in the office, but we did know that she was somewhere in the hierarchy above both Caseworker Jezabel and Jane, which was deserving enough for us to call. When my mom explained to Ms. Boss what was going on with my case, how we didn’t know where it was, what the status was, and that couldn’t get anyone to return our calls or emails, Ms. Boss told my mom that she would have to review the file and assured my mom that she would have someone from the office call on the following day to update us. Huh.

My mom is a miracle worker. I’ve said that once, right? Well my mom didn’t really feel like beating around the bush with Ms. Boss lady, so she got right to the point and asked Ms. Boss who would be returning the call. Ms. Boss said that either the assistant to my caseworker or Caseworker Jane would be returning the call.

Gee-golly I think we’ve come full circle now, haven’t we?

And my mom knew it and didn’t skip a beat. She told Ms. Boss that she had already spoken with Caseworker Jane’s and the assistant caseworker’s voicemails, and that either of them returning the call just wasn’t going to work for us. My mom informed Ms. Boss of the extensive report that I have created and told her that we are working on sending it to our local congressman, our local new stations, and local newspapers if we didn’t hear something about my case very soon. Fact is, we’re not going to twiddle our thumbs around here anymore.

I don’t know what Ms. Boss said, but within a few hours, Caseworker Jane called my mom and said that she had taken the case back from Caseworker Jezabel and that she would get something done. She wasn’t fibbing this time around, because at 7:30am this morning, Caseworker Jane called my mom to let her know that she had the approval from Austin on the way and that she would personally go out to the Arlington offices, which schedule the surgeries, and she would get everything taken care of today.

Who knew a few threats tossed around could do so much? I can’t say that those threats were empty, because really they weren’t. And aren’t. I really don’t want to see my face on the news, and who knows how long it would take a congressman to get to my pile of mail, but I did make ten copies of my report today, and I plan on mailing every one of those to people who should be informed with what is going down in that office.

And let me say this. I don’t do revenge. It’s not about that at all. I’ve been known to hold a grudge, but my purpose has never been, and never will be to judge someone myself. I’m frustrated with what’s gone on at DARS and every single caseworker, assistant caseworker, or management we’ve spoken to, with the exclusive exception of Karen at the Center, but what remains is that I have no idea what has happened behind the scenes. What if Caseworker Jane thought I was wacky for contacting her about my case status when Caseworker Jezabel is the one supposedly handling it? What if Ms. Boss lady had no idea that any of this had been happening from day one?

I can’t blame any one individual, because I simply don’t know who is the cause. But I do know that something is very wrong with the communication within that office and I want someone to know it. I feel I have a moral obligation, not to myself, but to the hundred other people who may be trying to get the same assistance I am and are just as frustrated as I have been. And what if people have just given up and not stood their ground like we did? How many have slipped through the cracks of the system?

Those are the reasons I sent my report out, advertise to as many as I can, to please, please help the people that walk through the doors of that office. It’s not their fault. They deserve so much more.

You have GOT to be kidding!

It’s almost laughable that so much confusion has been going on with my case at DARS. Almost laughable.

Yesterday my old caseworker, now dubbed Caseworker Jezabel, came back from her stint in where ever land. I had sent her an email yesterday to update her on my case, but today my mom decided to call her and be sure that she was clear on everything. Caseworker Jezabel wasn’t in the office yet, but her assistant was. The assistant informed my mom that because my file had been sent to Austin(TX) to approve my second surgery, there was no reason for Caseworker Jezabel to even be contacting me. The assistant went on to say that Caseworker Jezabel didn’t even have a reason that she should be contacting me, since the case was no longer her issue, but Austin’s.

Are you ready for the kicker?

Caseworker Jezabel had spent some of her morning looking at my file and email (*gasp*) and was able to update herself on my case. This morning while I was with my mom, Caseworker Jezabel called to let us know that my file had not been sent to Austin for approval. My mom told her that both the assistant and Caseworker Jane (the fill-in caseworker) had confirmed that the file had, in fact, been sent off for approval. Caseworker Jezabel said that she was looking through their computer system and she could not find anywhere that showed that the paperwork had actually been sent. On top of that, she also said that even if the paperwork had been sent, it shouldn’t take this long for the approval or denial.

So where are we now?

Who knows?! My mom politely asked Caseworker Jezabel to contact the Austin offices and confirm that the paperwork is there. However she also told her that if she didn’t hear back from Caseworker Jezabel by the end of the day, she would be calling Austin herself in the morning to find out. Go Mom!

So did we hear from Caseworker Jezabel? What do you think? No. As in, no, we did not hear from her. And I really don’t care at this point. I found the Austin office number online a little while ago and my mom will call them in the morning and figure out if they got the paperwork. We will prevail!!

I miss my husband. I miss him terribly. The worst part about all this is that I don’t have anyone’s shoulder to cry on while all this is going on. Granted, I’m so crazy busy with watching the kids that I don’t really have time to cry, but I’d still rather being going through this with him and not without. I guess since he’s in Africa passing out relief aid to poor and hungry people, it’s best that I stop whining about it and be thankful that he’s able to do what he is doing.

So tonight we wait. Wait. Wait. Tomorrow we will take another chip at that rock wall that seems to be standing in the way of things. This time we’re bringing sledgehammers.

Are you kidding me?

If there was ever a time that I just wanted to scream, now would be the time.

Hang on a minute…..

It doesn’t really help.

Today marks the eighth business day that the medical examiner in Austin has had my file and has yet to approve or deny my second surgery (if you’re just now tuning in to my blog, you may have to flip back through the archive to get the skinny on things).

I emailed my semi-new caseworker today to see if she could call the medical examiner, or even pass along his information so that I can have my mom call him. I’ve been busy with the kids today and didn’t get a chance to check my email until just a few moments ago.

I don’t really feel like being witty, so I’ll skip the sarcastic remarks today and get down to business. I got an email from my caseworker. No, not my semi-new caseworker (let’s call her Caseworker Jane) who has been handling my case for a little over a month now. No. I got an email from my former caseworker (let’s call her Caseworker Jezabel), who very often forgets that I’m alive. And that I’m living. And that I’m her case. And that she’s supposed to actually return the emails and phone calls I send her direction.

Caseworker Jezabel sent me an email today letting me know that she had returned from where ever she had gone. She was hoping for an update on how my surgery went, how I was adjusting with my implant, and if I had been to the speech therapist. Confused yet?

I don’t know how DARS handles things. I just assumed that if Caseworker Jezabel ever came back to DARS, that she would check in with Caseworker Jane about all the happenings that went on while being out of the office for so long. You know, just in case something went wrong during a surgery and so that someone didn’t get an email that became a slightly depressing reminder that her implant wasn’t working. That type of thing.

Honestly I might be being harsh with Caseworker Jezabel. I really have no idea why she was out of the office for so long. Maybe someone in her family was sick, maybe she had a dog die, I really don’t know. I do know that it took a solid year to get my first surgery approved with her at her station, but it is definitely possible that she’s had some sort of tragic thing happen recently to be away from work for so long.

I replied with a very nice email to her, giving her an update on everything that occurred, and asked her to please please check in with the medical examiner and see where things are. I had already emailed Caseworker Jane about it, but I figure if they both call the medical examiner, it might turn out to be a good thing. I’m just sorry that I wasted the really hearfelt tear-jerker email on Caseworker Jane, since it’s more likely that Caseworker Jezabel is the one it should have now been sent to. It’s kinda like I played the right card at the wrong time. Although if it’s at the wrong time, would that make it a wrong card? Who knows?!

I just pray that Caseworker Jezabel turns out to be a Caseworker Mary or something.