I Hear That...

There are things that you do that you just don't have to think about: breathe, look with your eyes, move your hands across a keyboard or number pad, listen with your ears, taste something good with your mouth.  Ordinarily, you just don't really think purposefully about doing these things - they come naturally, right?  So what happens when one of these things doesn't work properly?  What then?

I'm asking that question now because I have experienced some hearing loss.  I had an appointment with a specialist in Sioux Falls yesterday.  Before seeing him, I had a series of listening tests that I need to go through.  "Push the button when you hear a tone" the hearing specialist told me.  I could hear some tones and I would push the button.  Other times I sat there in that soundproof room, wondering why she wasn't sending any tones so I could push the button.  

What a dope I am, sometimes...

The hearing specialist told me that I am generally okay on the lower tones, but it really begins to be severe on the upper tones.  The doctor specialist told me the same thing.  Evidently, my problem is located in the cochlea - that portion of the inner ear that looks like a snail shell (cochlea is Greek for snail - who knew?).  The cochlea receives sound in the form of vibrations, which cause the stereocilia to move.  The stereocilia then convert these vibrations into nerve impulses which are taken up to the brain to be interpreted.  From what I could understand, this portion of the inner ear can begin to fail.  No corrective surgery will help - but hearing aids will.  

I wasn't ready to hear that.

I mean, c'mon!  I've just been through the wringer with three major surgeries in five months (which by the way, anyone of these could have been a catalyst in accelerating the hearing loss - isn't that fabulous!)  How many things can one person expect to have to deal with in one year?  

I look at that sentence and I realize how foolish I am if I really believe it.  Because I have been blessed - immeasurably blessed by God over the years.  I've walked with persons whose courage and faith makes mine seem so small.  I don't have a leg to stand on (well, that's actually not true, I have two bionic legs to stand on).  I mean that I have no business getting upset over things like this.  It's just a part of aging.  It's natural.  I'm not exempt from any of these things.  And I believe that God will always speak loudly enough for me to hear.  So, what's my problem?  Really nothing in the vast picture of life.  I'm good.  

I hear that...