Funny story (to me, anyway): This morning started out just like the previous few; ease out of bed, pack lunches for the kids, wish them well as they leave with Dad to go to zoo camp… Then I watered the flowers, made some coffee, and sat down on the couch to relax and do some reading. Forty-five minutes later I hear a honk, and the dog started barking. Perplexed, I got up to see what was going on. There was a white Spec-Tran van in my driveway. To pick me up. For the hair appointment I made just two days ago.
Oh, I was frantic. They don’t have to honk, and they certainly don’t have to wait for you to get dressed because you completely forgot they were coming. So I opened the front door, waved to let the driver know I was aware and coming, and rushed back to the bedroom to put on a bra (because I was still in my pajamas). The whole time – a matter of seconds that felt like eternity – I was praying the driver would not leave me. I hurried to put Piper in her crate, slipped on some shoes, grabbed my wallet and purse with a last minute check for my keys, and headed out the door. The sense of relief as I rode in that van was extremely gratifying.
Then as we were nearing our destination, the driver asks me if the address is 4020 (they often do this, which frustrates the crap out of me because they have GPS and I’m deaf, and it’s just hard and usually extremely unnecessary) and I say yes, that I believe it was next to a Quality Dairy, but I wasn’t sure because I’ve only been there once before. But then he pulls in to the salon’s parking lot and it’s there, right where it always has been, and the nearest Quality Dairy is at least 3 blocks away. Another memory fail. But here’s my note to Spec-Tran: don’t take navigation advice from the unlicensed deaf/blind girl. Her memory is like a sieve.
Minor mishaps, really. I was there with plenty of time to spare. I got a real haircut, and afterwards was able to chat with the stylist about cochlear implants. She had seen a video on Facebook showing several people, of all ages, reacting as their implants were activated. She was fascinated by the miracle of it, even though she knows she can’t come close to knowing what it’s like. She showed me the video, smiling the whole time, and her eyes just sparkled as she watched; she seemed to really “get it”. So it was just a good moment, to share in the awe of the CI miracle with a hearing stranger. It really is a miracle.
And then I called Spec-Tran (yes! with my cell phone!) to get picked up (we were done much earlier than I expected). When I got home I changed out of my pajamas (lol), let Piper out of her crate, and poured that cup of coffee that had been waiting for me. It’s good to be alive.