The big news of my yesterday was this: I was fitted for a hearing aid. (I know, does that not sound like I'm seventy-four years old?)
Let me give you a little history. About five (six?) years ago I began having trouble hearing in my right ear. Loooonnnngggg story short, they discovered that I had a benign tumor behind that ear. I have had four surgeries (all to remove the tumor that kept growing back) over the past several years. And when all is said and done, I can't hear at ALL, really, from that side (unless you're standing one inch away from me and shouting at the top of your lungs.) Okay, so, maybe I am seventy-four.
So. I drove to the hearing clinic. Mark was at home watching the kids. As I drove, I thought, "Shoot. I forgot my book!" But then I remember that it's a doctor's office and they have magazines. Always a perk.
I check in with the receptionist at the little window when I get there. She is seventy-four.
And then, I head to the waiting area to... wait. And I notice the overhead music (Bette Midler) is awfully loud. I think, "Well, duh. People that come here can't hear." And then I reach over to the stack of magazines. The magazine on top is Retirement Weekly. (No, not Entertainment Weekly, RETIREMENT Weekly. RW. You know.) Not super interested in that periodical, I have to say. So I thumb through the stack of magazines (I confess, I was digging for a People or an US Weekly) and they are ALL Retirement Weekly's. All 11 of them. Okay. Well. That was a let down.
So I look around a bit more (another table? a little rack on the wall?)
But no, nothing. I had no idea how long I'd be waiting and I sort of READ when I'm in waiting rooms. I glance back at the RW Table and then I see it. The only other reading material in the whole building was the Gideon-left KJV of the Holy Bible. So I promptly picked it up and read my chapter in Proverbs.
Oh yeah, and then I got fitted for that hearing aid. It will be ready in two weeks. And then everyone in my LIFE will be so grateful that they don't have to stand on my left side to speak to me.
I'm feeling really elderly just writing about this. That and the fact that I could maybe get a part-time job pulling the grey hairs out of my head. I've always liked being a brunette but I'm beginning to think those blondes have something going for them. Grey doesn't show up as easily if you have blonde hair. I'm jealous. And I'm ONLY thirty-one, by the way.
~Stacy | 