Life and little problems

Life and little problems                                                          

The morning began a little later today and continued with an hour and a half of classes on You Tube. During that time we hardly speak, unless the odd glance and smile counts, as we follow the movements of the teacher. It is a peaceful passage of movement and bodily engagement that both of us find beneficial to our wellbeing. A short break comes after the ballet workout, when I go into the kitchen to get us both refreshing cup of tea, French rose with vanilla for Steve and a noir de Ceylon loose leaf for me. Neither of us like standard builders tea with milk and that is more that we have travelled enjoyably well and taken tea in some really nice café’s in our many years together, rather than being snooty posh tea folk just for the sake of it.

Next stop of the day was the turbo room upstairs and not much more than an easy hour spinning our legs to yet another episode of The West Wing on our lockdown re- run of the very long box set we bought years ago. A nice bath followed after the cycling, and then since it was Saturday, a bit of breakfast is the habit. Just a bagel each with cheese, some Port Salut or Wensleydale with cranberry today. The cheese selection was hardly complimented by the accompanying strawberry jam for Steve and Plum jam for me. That’s more down to earth isn’t it; cheese and jam. 

My default radio station has long been Classic FM. Steve is a talk radio man mainly and at the weekend it is Maajid Nawaz, who has his ear. Steve had laid the table by the time I was out of the bath, had cleaned and tidied the bathroom and floated back in. Having taken my seat at the table Steve started chattering to me and I sat and looked at his face and after a while I started smiling at him and he stopped.

“What” he said, “What is it” looking at me as if he didn’t know what it was.

I started to explain something that I know that he knows. “Classic FM is playing on the TV,” I indicated slightly across the room to my right. “Maajid is talking behind me in the hall and who is this singing, not Taylor Swift is it?

“Lady Antebellum”, He interjected still looking curious.

“You have forgotten for the moment that I am a bit deaf haven’t you”, a tick or two passed. “You know that when there is another noise that I can’t hear you talking”? Then I added, “I am the deaf old bat remember”?

I got up and turned the radio on the TV off, and he stopped Maajid mid sentence.

The hearing problem dates back quite a long time to when I bad a bad attack of Labyrinthitis. I woke up in the night and attempted to get up but fell back across the bed with a thump. The more I tried to stand the more I fell about completely devoid of any balance at all. It was a bit scary and I had no idea what was happening.

Cutting that story short; it was a severe attack and I was not able to stand up on my own for some time. Steve moved me to a lazi-boy chair downstairs for that time, since I would fall out of bed. I had to be almost carried to the toilet and the movement made me feel so nauseous. Steve called in my daughter every now and again to help when he had to go out of the house.

It was weeks until it very slowly improved after doctors and hospital visits. During the following weeks and months I could not go into supermarkets without bad spells of dizziness. The most lasting effect is still with me to a degree; when we go to the theatre or cinema and sit in the dark for a couple of hours. I have to put my hand on Steve’s shoulder as we leave. He goes in front of me and I stay behind him until I feel steady again. I have had tinnitus constantly since then.

At the swimming pool I can hardly hear at all because of the background noise and once in the pool with a swim hat on and water in my ears that’s it, it’s just a noise. My friends seem to forget this about me, even though I have told them all from time to time. They will still turn and talk to me at the end of the pool and I just smile at them, point to myself and say “Deaf old bat, remember”.

One to one, I am fine though it is no good what so ever whispering an aside to me; I don’t hear whispers, so feel free to talk about me because I won’t know. Cinema and theatre sound is fine. Restaurants with music playing loudly and I am hopeless. I have a hearing aid but it’s not really much good for me and I can’t get to grips with it. It stays in a drawer mostly. 

While I have been writing this afternoon, Steve has taken Birdy with him out into the garden wearing her harness and lead. She is quite happy having it put on now and actually starts purring because she knows that she will be taken into the garden once it is on. There is no sign of a fight now to place it on her. She can walk in it if she wants to, but mostly just sits or lays down without pulling or struggling yet seeming to be perfectly happy, both being in the garden and having attention. She gets a few treats when she comes in.