nervous. Excited. Stressed.
In less than 24 hours, if all goes well, I will hear sounds again in an ear that hasn't heard sounds in thirty-one years. As I've said before, I'm not expecting anything great, but sounds, in this ear that has been dead for years, are monumental...nearly miraculous.
I got my copy of Michael Chorost's Rebuilt in the mail on Saturday. I picked it up and have gotten through the first several chapters. He uses language that I don't use, and that is one of the only things that keeps me from recommending it without reservation. However, on almost every page, especially in the first few chapters, I see myself. He used one illustration that I have to share with you. On page 48, he talks about scheduling events for the days after his activation, and he says: "Entering those events feels strange, like knowing I'm going to show up female instead of male, or Catholic instead of Jewish."
The surgery wasn't scary. It was just surgery. It didn't, on its own, have the power to change my life. I didn't enter into it with any fear or trepidation. I walked into the hospital joyfully and confidently. However, this....is big. I think the reason it's so scary is that it is so unknown. If I could remember hearing in this ear, ever before, I don't think it would be such a big deal. If I had experienced any of this before, it wouldn't be so nerve-wracking. However, I am stepping out now into uncharted waters, and I'm petrified.
I have the strength of several wonderful implant users and parents of users that I've met over the past six months behind me. I have the support of family and friends. I have church family all over the United States praying for me. And I have God, the giver of every good and perfect gift, with me, and this gives me strength and courage.
Keep me in your prayers in the morning, folks. I'm off to birth an ear. My life will never be quite the same again...it will always, from this point on, be measured by "before" and "after" this day.