**Warning: this post contains a lot of cheese.**
My husband was up all night putting this cabinet together for me. I had not even asked him to, but he did it anyway. Because he loves me.
And while the cabinet doesn’t match the hutch next to it, I love it. I love both pieces, because this space is mine, and mine only. This is where I work. Where I write, where I feel like I can function in a way that is not hindered by my disabilities.
I must also mention that my husband sort of hates The Hutch. But knowing how much I love The Hutch, he lets that go. The Hutch stays, and we never speak of it.
So now, at the risk of sounding overly sentimental, these two pieces of furniture represent the sacrifices my dear husband has made for me. Which honestly is still not even accurate, when you take everything into account. We have been married for 16 years, but especially in these past two he has given up so much for me. And if you ask him, he would tell you he would do it again, in a heartbeat. This furniture will always remind me of his love and sacrifice, and with any luck will inspire the same qualities in me.
Mike, I could not live without you, nor would I want to. You are truly my everything. Thank you. I love you more than I can express in words.
Grandpa agreed to come and watch the kids (and the puppy) after church so Mike and I could go on a date. Where do we go for fun? The shooting range! Mike shoots competitively (and does quite well for someone who doesn’t get a lot of time to practice), so when he gives me a fist bump after I’ve shot a few rounds, I feel pretty proud of myself. See for yourself in the picture below, that hole right in the middle, dead center? That was my first shot. I thought at the time I should have stopped right there, but I’m glad I didn’t.
I was shooting my Sig Sauer P238 (with new paisley decorated grips… I really ought to have a picture), my Glock .380, and Mike’s Glock .45. We had a blast, and it is such a great way for both of us to relieve stress. We were wrapping things up when Mike started chatting with an acquaintance from a couple lanes over. I think Mike must have shared how much I was enjoying shooting the .45 (cuz I was, you know?), so the man offered to let me shoot his gun: a Desert Eagle .44 magnum. This gun was a monster. Not too heavy to hold, but it was almost too big for my finger to reach the trigger. I had a hard time managing the recoil, so I was pretty surprised when I saw I hit the bullseye. I told the guy after I shot three rounds – with his super expensive and impressive gun – that I didn’t do so bad for having low vision! Maybe I should have mentioned that first? Oh well, I shot well and he seemed mostly humored that I was having so much fun with it. (He even accepted my friend request on Facebook!)
We didn’t get a picture of the target I shot with the magnum, but the one below is from the rounds I shot with the Sig P238. I think. Maybe it was the Glock. Anyway, not too shabby for someone who only gets to the range a handful of times throughout the year. I can’t drive a car, but I can shoot a gun! 🙂
Well, we still have just a touch under 3 weeks until I can hope to have a normal conversation with my husband. As if communication within a marriage isn’t challenge enough, take away the ability of one spouse to hear the other, and you have a recipe for disaster. That’s the hand we’ve been dealt, and we’ve been making it work for the past 10 months. I won’t say we’ve been raking in the chips, but we’re still in the game, with no plans of folding (I’m not a poker champion, but I played one on tv).
I don’t have a lot of knowledge regarding these cochlear implants (ci’s), but I’m told they are amazing. I have not heard one single negative report. They are truly a miracle. Rush Limbaugh, who experienced the same type of hearing loss I did, and now has two ci’s, makes a very valuable point regarding the ci. He basically puts it into perspective by pointing out that if he had been born even 30 years earlier , and went deaf at the age he did, it would have been the end of his radio hosting career. To think that on the timeline of history of hundreds, or even thousands, of years, that we are here at this point in time. This point in time, where super smart scientists and medical researchers have made this discovery to restore hearing for deaf people. What an amazing thing. I am astounded and beyond excited.
On activation day, I will be joined by my husband, my son and daughter, and my mother-in-law. It will be a long meeting, so Grandma will be helpful in entertaining the kids. That is, unless Natalie wants to learn all about audiology (it’s not surgery, but it’s still pretty interesting). I’m keeping my expectations low, as I’ve been advised, so who knows how the day will go. If it goes anything like my surgery did, it will be just fine. I am really looking forward to hearing everyone’s voices again, but I know they may not sound the same. Heck, they probably won’t even sound natural at first, but that’s ok. This is just the next step on the road back to hearing. We just took a little detour, that’s all.
I have been saved, healed, and delivered; sozo. Praise the Lord!
Yesterday was post-surgery day 6. I did get a bath earlier this week, but haven’t washed my hair since the morning of the surgery. I’m not supposed to get the incision area wet, so it’s quite a challenge, and nearly impossible to do on my own. I had not expected to be able to wash it until next Monday after I see the surgeon for follow-up (note that is one day after my son’s birthday party).
So when my dear husband offered to wash it for me, I jumped at the chance (not literally of course, given my restrictions). So I washed myself up in the bathtub and then Mike came in and very carefully, yet thoroughly, washed my hair. When your spouse is willing to help you bathe yourself, it makes it crystal clear why your marriage has lasted as long as it has.