Tuesday, June 5, 2007

Now THIS is Worthy of True Panic

The definition of panic is when Saturday evening rolls around and you look at your 7-year-old son and realize that his left hearing aid (the one for his "good" ear) is no longer in his left ear, and you have no clue how or when it came out of that ear, and you know he has covered considerable territory during the day (picture one of the little maps drawn in Family Circus when one of the kids is to "go straight home"). All available flashlights are rounded up and used to comb the yard, the vehicles and the road ... to no avail. You skip church the next morning so you can spend the day taking said 7-year-old's bed apart as well as the rest of his room. Every toy box is emptied of its contents, the laundry gets fondled unmercifully, and you even look in the cat box. All shoes are shaken out and parts of the couch that have not seen day light in years are exposed. At one point you entertain the notion that the hearing aid may now be floating in your septic tank. THIS IS PANIC! In the mean time your overworked, much loved audiologist comes up with a loaner aid (Thank you, Jesus!!), which requires digging out every ear mold that has ever been made for your child in the past 6 years and finding one that will fit until said audiologist can make a new one. She discusses funding options for the purchase of a new $$$ aid with you and smiles sympathetically. Monday evening at around 8:15 you're in your ASL II class 1 1/2 hours from home with a deaf teacher who has just signed to the class, "No phone calls or talking until the break!!" Your phone vibrates in your purse pocket! You grimace. Then it proceeds to vibrate 10 more times in the span of about 10 minutes. You're freaking out and having visions of one of your children dismembered and bleeding. You finally work up the courage to sign to the teacher that your husband has called 10 times in the past 10 minutes and that you're really worried and need to go and find out what's wrong. There's a voice mail on your phone, and you listen while your 14-year-old says in a sing-songy voice, "I found the hearing aid, I found the hearing aid." Laugh or cry, which? You start shaking with relief, call home and discover that the hearing aid was found out by the new swing set hubby had just erected a few days ago. It rained all day Sunday ... hmmm. You call the sympathetic audiologist who whoops with joy with you and says, "Well, it may require a repair, but you will probably not need to replace the whole thing." Life is good.

2 comments:

Nan said...

Phew...a happy ending. I was starting to get a bit worried there.

dcpeg said...

You and me, both!