July 18, 2012

Going Through The Door …

leesburg door

Have you ever faced a door you know you have to go through, but don’t want to because once you go through it, there’s no coming back out the same?  Sometimes it’s a good thing – a change that needs to happen.  Other times, it is a change you don’t wish for – a change you didn’t plan for.

That’s how I felt yesterday when I walked out the door to leave after my doctor’s appointment.

My ear doctor is a very kind and compassionate older man. I have never met a doctor with a sweeter disposition and bedside manner.  But his gentle demeanor could not soften the blow I felt when he told me that I do not in fact have Otosclerosis, but more likely a neural hearing loss {inner ear/nerve instead of middle ear/bone}.

After talking recently with two people who have Otosclerosis and had overwhelming success with surgery restoring a great majority of their hearing, I had a great sense of peace and hope about my current situation getting better. Learning this would not be the case for me really knocked the wind out of my sails.

Now I am set to get an MRI to make sure I don’t have an abnormality (read: tumor) on my auditory nerve. And then we go from there.

So that’s it.  Permanent hearing loss is my door.  And I’ve crossed over its threshold, never to return to where I was before.

Accepting what’s behind the door is tough, especially when it’s not what you’d anticipated.  I find myself grumpy with my children who still yell at me from the farthest reaches of the house because I can’t hear them.  I find myself a little glum each night when I lay down to sleep and can’t find the quiet I am longing for.  And I find myself throwing an inner pity party quite often, which I believe is to be expected, but still makes me mad at myself.

Now I’ve written down my thoughts.  And they are out of my head. Which is good.  Please don’t feel sorry for me.  I just needed to give you a peek through a crack in the door.

12 comments:

Aiketa said...

Even thought you wrote your thoughts in a really beautiful way (as usual, of course!), I don't like this blog post a bit...

Stay strong Samantha! I'm sending all my positive energy to my dear dear Dragonfly in VA.

Apis Melliflora said...

I have great faith in you.

In your own time, you will prep and paint that door and make the very best of it.

Your door analogy reminds me of your post a while back about building something beautiful.

I think it's perfectly healthy to mourn the loss of the previous diagnosis.

Anonymous said...

Sending you hugs and love! It is ok to mourn, be grumpy and scared. Just know you have a ton of support! Love Elizabeth

MelancholySmile said...

I'm so sorry. I can identify with the feeling of not having signed up for a particular challenge in life. It's difficult and heartbreaking and humbling. There are still many trials that I can not (yet) say that I'm grateful for, yet I know I DID ask to have this life forge me into a certain kind of person. All of these things make us turn to the lord and become people we wouldn't otherwise become. Hugs and well wishes on your current transformation in the refiners fire.

tktakesphotos said...

Life can be so ridiculously unfair. I'll be praying for you Sam. I'm thinking good thoughts for you.

Anonymous said...

Sam, please get another opinion. You are your best advocate. Learn and conquer!

The Dragonfly said...

This is actually the second opinion and second round of hearing tests I've had. I feel very confident in both the doctor I am seeing and the audiologist who did the testing.

The Queen Vee said...

I feel confident you will be able to handle whatever lies ahead. You will receive all blessings you've been promised. I'm sad you are having to go through this challenge but I know you have the ability to face it.

Meaja said...

There are some things in life that are hard and this is one of them but I believe in you. I know you can do this and do it well. The art of listening is seeing and feeling the words.

The Queen Vee said...

Meaja knows what she is talking about! Thanks Meaja for giving my girl such good advice.

Anonymous said...

Dearest Sam:

I cannot imagine your disappointment. You certainly were upended by having to adjust to a very different outlook for your hearing. Still, I cannot help but to think that though the diagnosis likely is correct, over time the solutions will evolve and improve. Plus, you are armed with one of the mightiest attributes to meet this challenge - you are a Communicator - a magnificent one, to boot. I don't believe things happen for a reason. I think they simply do. But, I do believe that it is the stuff we are made of, our faith, intelligence, courage, ability to sort things out, seek advice, check in with God, with our friends and loved ones and doctors, that resolves disappointments and challenges that we and our families and friends face each and every day. I know you can handle this. Just remember that you do not have to do it all alone. Look, you already are off to a grand beginning by blogging about it. Hurrah. Love you, Sam. Hugs. Linda

JulieB said...

Thanks for opening up about your challenges! I love how "real" you are about life. Keep us updated.