Doctor, My Eyes

In Deafness, Hearing Impairment, Health, Jackson Browne, Life, Love, Music, People, True Story on July 5, 2012 at 5:13 pm

I use a pseudonym because I’m a square peg. I don’t fit the mainstream’s, the Bible Belt’s, round hole. I am afraid. Afraid of retribution, crucifixion, being burned at the stake again. But, I have to ‘come out’. I’m exceedingly transparent in real life. And how. That’s part of my problem. ‘Bigmouth strikes again’. Although people often say I’m an eloquent speaker I feel I sometimes lack tact, grace. Wish I were born on Tuesday — ‘Tuesday’s child is full of grace’. I just say what’s on my mind. I’m all-in. Always.

I ❤ BIG, too. REALLY BIG. I ❤❤❤❤❤ everyone I’ve met here at WordPress. I think you’re all SO ‘beauti-beauti-beauti-beautiful’! Oh, so. I do. I can’t keep this from you any longer because sooner or later I will have to go away. I’ll be back but there’s a always the chance I won’t…

I started this blog at the behest of friends. I tell good stories, they say. But, there are some stories I need to tell. Why I’m ‘Dizzy’. This is but one…

I’m sick… Have been for a long time… Achieved impossible remission on more than one occasion.

I’m also post-linguistically deaf. Yeah. Lost it in six days at age 20. Music was my EVERYTHING. I can speak, sing even. ❤❤❤❤❤ to sing! I have a Cochlear implant. I only really ‘get’ music I knew before. I upgraded in January and am catching new grooves all the time. It’s the best I’ve heard since I lost it. It’s super-fantastique! The music drives me to distraction…

I have all these doctors. There are a lot of protocols. They can ONLY work within the confines of the protocols. There’s a lot of running around on my part.

Dr. S is my G.I. There aren’t many. It’s a difficult specialty. No one wants to be a G.I. She has so many patients. That’s why everyone thinks she’s a bitch. That’s why I have to stay an ‘active’ patient, see her all the time because if I don’t and I tank I have to wait 3 months to see her.

Dr. K is my I.D. Head of his department at the University of Metropolis hospital. I had to see him because he can prescribe classes of medications the others can’t. Like Ertapenem. He is the most good, kind, gentle man. One of my kitties is named after him and my Vetrinarian, who is dying of liver cancer. She’s my Vet. My VET, my friend, my Love. Funny and talented. She and her husband are total cards. Just silly. We can’t lose her. We will, but we just can’t… Sigh…

Dr. L is head of surgery at the U of M. He’s very gruff, but, WAY groovy and cool. We like a lot of the same music. He is dedicated — they all are, really. He NEVER sleeps. He’s up at 3 even when he’s on holiday. He’s a ‘God’ as many surgeons tend to be. Sometimes we do informal things outside of protocol. Like, admit me through the back door on a Friday, do surgery at 1 a.m. on Saturday morning, discharge me Sunday. We do this because I can’t be examined without anesthetic. The surgery I’m waiting for is big. I’ll be there for weeks. We can’t go through the back door this time.

I REALLY ❤❤❤❤❤ them, they me.

I’m allergic to the meds that might make me better now. Spent months on I.V. Going to hospital every day for medicine — more than once. If the Ertapenem won’t make me better nothing will. I’ve been on antibiotics for the better part of 4 years. There’s only one I can take now. Got off for a couple months. Back on. The ONLY way I’ll get off is to have this surgery.

My ENT retired. He would see me on a moments notice. The new guy won’t see you for 6 months. His secretary told me I needed a standard hearing test first. What hearing? Told my audiologist. She was none too impressed. None. Lowered the boom.

The meds I had to take made me sick in new and more interesting ways. Bad medicine — taken plenty of that. Suppressed my immune system and affected my implant. The issues with the implant went unaddressed for 8 years. We had to re-implant. That’s why I am in the boat I’m in right now… They found a staph infection a quarter inch from my brain? Had to do reconstructive surgery on my scalp. Eight years! Eight! Pain.

Everyone always says I’m fine, because I look fine, am always smiling and friendly and don’t scream at people when I don’t get what I want. I have to get REALLY awful before I stop smiling at you. I have been really awful, too. Been to the Dark Side. Not a lot of people will cut you slack when you’re there, either. Was hurt and surprised by that. Devastated, actually.

I loved the ENT. My friend dated his daughter. I’m rather angry at him, still. I don’t like being angry. I ❤❤❤❤❤ed him. We did lectures together. But, my life is a nightmare now. If he’d just fixed it when I had first asked I believe none this wouldn’t have happened. He did the best he could. It just wasn’t good enough. It was the first domino in a succession.

Tigger says I’m the most malpracticed person she’s ever met.

The system is broken. Everyone is upset, too. We all are, the doctors, nurses, everyone. ‘They’ are gunning for collapse. ‘They’ want an American model. That model costs WAY more than our’s and only a few are helped. ‘They’ want to become disgustingly, absurdly affluent on the backs of the afflicted, my people.

I’m afraid. Was supposed to have surgery in June. I don’t think I’m going to get in for months or that I’ll have to get really sick again, become an emergency, first. Because all they’re doing right now is emergencies.

Dr. K said in January that the antibiotics would kill me if I didn’t get off. So… I’m wrestling with my mortality every day right now. Every. Single. Day.



I try very hard to distract myself. It’s getting harder and harder. Spinning my wheels. Feel dizzy.

Feel my days might be numbered…

‘I got this feeling that it’s later than it seems… Doctor, my eyes… Just say if it’s too late for me…’

Anyway. That’s the skinny. Yay.

I know this story is all over the place. I’m very nervous telling it. I feel I couldn’t move forward until I came out, came clean. I’m not good at secrets. Felt like I was lying to you.

Thanks for reading, following and liking my blog. Means the world to me. Really. It does.

Much ❤❤❤❤❤ to you.

  1. Greetings from Belgium!

  2. I was thinking “this blog post is all over the place,” when I see the words, right in your blog post. Well, you know your blog post is all over the place. 🙂
    You seem very depressed.
    Why not have at your real name? I did it on my post, and I too, consider myself a square peg never going into a round hole.
    Why not break down some of this post?
    I know how it is to be near death. I won’t discuss that here, but hope you talk more specifically about yourself.

    • Hey, seapunk.

      I guess I am sorta depressed? There are good days and bad. Just like for everyone. ‘Doctor, My Eyes’ was a bad day. Life is fraught with extremes and in betweens. Beauty and pain. Sometimes I think because of where I’m sitting I see things more clearly or at least from a different perspective. 😊

      I, also, sometimes think the world is phony. People don’t, won’t or can’t acknowledge the pain. Won’t claim the’ baggage’. But there is beauty in it, as well. ‘Beauty in the hurricane’s eye’. Like, the street boys in ‘… Bela Lugosi’s Dead’. They were sublimely beautiful. I ❤ed them. We ❤ed each other, shared our pain, our sadness in the face of hate and intolerance in that one moment. It was beautiful.

      I’m hoping there’s a lot of beauty and humour in ‘Dizzy Yet?’, too. Like, the Music, the Art, the ‘Apropos Heart…’ last night, ‘Pearly Dew Drops Drop’, ‘Twinkle, Twinkle…’, ‘Technical Difficulties’… My VERY bad hockey poetry? 😊 lol

      You can’t tell I’m sick from looking at me — sometimes that creates an unusual set of problems in itself. This is the best I’ve been in 4 years. It’s the meds that will kill me. There’s always risks with surgery, too. One of my hospital buddies had a big surgery, went septic and now her brain is fried. Those are my fears, why I’m blogging feverishly. If I can get off the meds and survive surgery I will live according to my docs.

      I’m not afraid to die, it’s how that frightens me. Or living in an altered state. There are things much worse than death. I’ve spent enough time in hospital to know it’s not pretty. It hurts. It’s ugly.

      My, life was all about music before I lost my hearing. Then, it became this weird, surreal musical — rock opera? Even during the 5 years I was profoundly deaf, before I received the implant. Mostly, I just want to play, share some music for you, with you. Tell you some stories and set them to music — a musical blog? (I have a story to tell about when I first started to understand Music again after I received the implant.)

      For awhile during this last 4 year odyssey I couldn’t understand the Music anymore I was so sick. Had lost it a second time. It’s back now and I want to groove, rock, sing and sway until it’s out of my system or can’t anymore. ‘She said, “Kick it Out!”‘. 😉 lol

      I’ll stay ‘Dizzy’ for now… but, I will definitely take using my real name into consideration, seek advise from my ‘editor’ and peeps.

      Thanks for witnessing my one-woman, surreal journey through the Universe, Space and Time. 😊

      And, thanks a bunch for commenting! Hope you have a great day! 💋

  3. I wish I could hold your hand and say something wise that would help you through this. But sadly all I can offer is my well wishing.

    But I will tell you that I am cheering you on so hard right now.

    • Thanks a bunch, Bees! 💐

      It sure is a crazy, surreal odyssey I’m on, but, hey, it’s mine. 😊

      Hope you have an excellent weekend!

  4. I read this right through. And the comments. It doesn’t matter if you use your real name or not, you shared your pain, your experience, and I stumbled upon it here, and am deeply honoured you shared it – thank you – that I know you through your name or pseudonym. Yep, I’m truly dizzy now, now that I understand better what that means

    • Shucks, Lewis, thanks a bunch. I don’t really like this post much, am uncomfortable with it and have ruminated on just trashing it on more than one occasion. But… well… people commented and I thought I’d best let it stand? If only out of respect and affection.

      I’d rather try and transcend or even escape it all. There are more important things. Sometimes they seem trivial but that’s where the importance lies. Sometimes things are heavy and the trivialities and comic relief are what propel us forward, no? Carry us to higher ground.

      I did have the surgery. Don’t feel great but I’m okay. I’m off the bad antibiotics and steroids. Although, it’s proving to be a lifelong endeavour. Everyone you meet is carrying a similar burden — maybe greater — that preoccupies them. That’s why you gotta be friendly, nice, silly, generous with the compliments and try not sweat the small stuff. Because at the end of the day, when all is said and done, no one gets outta here alive and all you get to take with you is the Love. (Maybe you could direct your manager to this post so they might see bureaucracy, micromanagement, splitting hairs and red tape are passé? That other things are more important? Just a thought. 😊 lol *shrug*)

      Thanks for visiting and the very kind words, Lewis. Really. Really. I think you’re a great writer and value your opinions.

      Hope you had an awesome birthday weekend! 💋

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