Lost and FOUND!

Well then, my bedroom has now been just about sanitized. Also too, I've actually organized my excrement. My earrings (damn, I've got too many of those suckers) are all in one place. My piles of books have been neatly stacked, shelved and culled. My meds have been grouped and placed where I can easily find 'em. Yea me!

My dastardly disappearing aid was on the floor by the head of the bed. WHY I hadn't seen it before my mondo clean-a-thon is utterly beyond me. Hells bells, I was on hands and knees with a bright flashlight but, but...NADA!

My digital ear trumpet was tucked away under Sherman Alexie's memoir You Don’t Have to Say You Love Me. Though the book was given to me just after it came out in June of last year, I couldn't crack it open. Not then. Alexie's words speak to me so profoundly – I was afraid his grief, his sorrow would sink me beyond my ability to surface, to float. Even now, I read just a few pages at a time and set it aside...apparently on top of my hearing aid. DOH!!!

I began today rattled beyond belief. I felt like an enormous eejit for losing such an important and expensive thing. I was SO not ready to shell out 2,000 clams. And now I don't have to!

I think I'll head up to my neighborhood dive for a celebritory glass 'o' the grape. Cheers!
~~~
It’s abundantly true – the only way I’ll do a BIG, deep housecleaning (versus tidying) is when I’ve mislaid something important. Today, I’m horrified to say, I’ve lost my hearing aid.

Hearing aid? But, but yur deaf, right?

Yes but I’ve a wee sliver of sound on my right side which, along with that tiny, missing industrial strength amp, means I can hear my own voice. This means that I can modulate my squawking, my tone, my verbosities. Though I can’t completely make out other's voices or words, with the aid in, my ability to read lips increases.

PLUS, the aid gives me a general awareness of sound. I can hear some traffic (loud motorcycles, big trucks and the like), giant waves hitting the beach, shit falling off a shelf, crashing into a zillion little pieces and the odd, angry, barking dog. I can’t necessarily ID what the sound is but I’m aware of the crash, boom, clattering. With it, I’m more in tune/less out of tune with my environment. I navigate better.

You might be wondering, why don’t you get one of those neat-o keen cochlear implants? Yeah, I would if I could but ya need functioning auditory nerves for that and mine are all sliced, diced and dead and shit.

How did I lose my amp? Dunno. Took it out before I stepped into the shower last night and *POOF* Vanish City.

So then, I gotta go excavate. If it turns out the sucker’s gone, baby, gone, I’m gonna zip up to MEEI and beg for an instant appointment. Just FYI, these important little suckers run from $1,500 up to $3,500, depending on the level of advanced tech built in and they're NOT covered by insurance.

I'm imagining the $3,500 models make the coffee, do laundry and drive my damn car too. They better for that price!

I really think I could hunt/search/clean better if I had a cookie. Ya know!?!