My dog ate my hearing aide.
what this means for me is that i make a phone call to an office where hopefully they will have the supplies to give me another one. which will cost two thousand dollars. one hearing aide. just one. no insurance for regular people covers it. or, at least not this regular person’s insurance.
what this means for me is that i walk around this empty house, but i feel like i have no legs. its super quiet, of course, but i have a level of -its not quite fear- but awareness that i might not be hearing something that i need to hear- like a tree hitting the house, or a phone ringing. pre-emptive anxiety? awareness of not-safe? quiet is not the same as peaceful. thankfully, kind of, the kids aren’t here, so i can have my extremely controlled panic in private. if they were here, though, i’d have less anxiety as they’d hear the breaking glass of an intruder or a tree hitting the house.
(yes, i’m absurd, but yes, also, those are real thoughts i have)
so. sigh. and fuck.
i was needing to do a big shop at the grocery store but its hard enough hearing with all the masks and stuff. people are frucking nuts right now and i can’t handle it right now. maybe i’ll get a new aide real quick like? i have savings and a credit card so i’m okay. (i say to my sister who is, right now, jumping into action to save me..:)
i’m lucky. i know it.
its so quiet. come hold my hand and distract me.
i’m waiting for a phone call that i may or may not hear.
its super fun.
love love anyways,