Day 11 Post-Op: Reflections on sound and my tips for hospital.
Today is the day that Ophelia (the storm) hits Ireland and the Western parts of the UK. It's meant to get really windy from 3pm but even now, there is a strange, apricot glow to the grey clouds that hang in the sky. Really, any minute now either Dennis Quaid or whatshisname that did Robin Hood and the Body... Ah, Kevin Costner, will appear now to announce the end of the world. Well, there is that colony of penguins that was recently hit by a catastrophic loss of life so I guess in some ways, it is the end of their world.
Yesterday, Peter and me went for a walk as I'm still feeling quite unfit. Managed 40 minutes walking and as we passed the shops I walked through a pile of leaves, deliberately kicking them up. And heard not a crinkle, a whisper or even a rustling. With my right hearing aid, if I don't think too hard, nothing sounds much different. Except, I'm having to rotate my whole body to locate sounds, to fully concentrate on speakers. My left is a black hole of nothingness, not even Mathew McConnaughey is in some little 4d world tapping out messages. There's nothing. So not to hear that familiar whish and shushing sound of the leaves was really disconcerting. Now that I think about it, my left did quite a bit to add fullness to sounds, even if I couldn't understand speech with it.
Take this song for starters, The Lark Ascending, which was part of my wedding music. With two hearing aids, I could hear and 'detect' that the violin was playing a very high pitched tune in the first minute to about a minute and a half. By watching the lead violinist, I could recognise she was playing and could concentrate to pick out most of the higher parts of her playing. It has the most wonderful, rousing fullness which I could enjoy and it's one of my favourite pieces of music. With just my left only, I could hear 'chittering' and I could essentially, 'hear' some of, although not recognise some of the instruments. Today, with my right hearing aid, it sounds flat. I can hear french horns, I can hear the swell of the orchestra in its crescendos but it all sounds flat. The violin is virtually inperceptible to me. It's odd how, although I can hear the music it has none of that power to move me. Same with Birdy's song, Wings, the higher pitched piano notes aren't as shrill and some of the notes blur and smudge. Her voice sounds the same, just thinner. Even if I couldn't have understood this song with just my left, it still added a fullness. At the three minute point, there's a choir in the background, or her own voice, whatever it is sounds much fainter than remembered.
Hoping to get back to work this week, feels like a lifetime has passed.
I didn't put much into the hospital based posts. I should add the following details for reference, they may be useful.
* We booked into the Travelodge which is on Upper Brook Street. It was handy because it was only a 10 minute walk from the room to the ward, deep in the heart of the hospital. As I was worried about being late or getting lost, we explored the hospital and found the department the day before, once we'd settled into the room. Don't expect a nice view. Or a bath. Unless you book a business rate room! (I'd check that one as I'm not 100% sure) Also make sure your partner packs ear plugs if they wake easily, there were a couple of ambulance sirens in the night which woke Peter.
* The hotel is fine, not as good as its competitor but it was a room and what more does one need when it is so close to the hospital? Take a nice shower gel and wash your hair, is my advice! Get it as squeaky clean as possible, and tie up away from the side to be implanted unless you want it matted and tangled beneath a pressure bandage!
* As the appointment was so early in the morning, Peter and me got the train to Manchester the day before as we figured it would cut the stress out. (It did)
*I packed the following things, most of which went unused as I was such an appallingly bad patient at recovering!
1 - Dressing gown - they did provide a robe but a very thin one to match the equally as thin and depressing hospital gown with a gaping gap when the back should have been. I was glad of the protection afforded to me by my thick, full length, fleecy dressing gown!
2 - Slippers - ended up not wearing these. Was provided with hospital socks. I wouldn't bother packing slippers.
3 - Wet wipes - useful for wiping my face down before facing the world with all my puffy faced, pillow lined glory.
4 - Magazines and book - Ah. The intentions! As I didn't recover well immediately, and slept all the way through being prodded until Peter's appearance, nothing was read. Or eaten. Which leads me to...
5 - Water and grapes, sweets. - Would definitely recommend a bottle of water with a sports cap.
6 - Notepad and pen - very useful for post op communications!
7 - If you're working and get a fit-note written by the doctor, make sure you take it away! Or it will get lost 'in the notes' and eventually posted out, like mine did.
Ooh, can't believe I haven't mentioned this till now but I have my switch on! I think I'll do a separate post for that or it'll just get confusing.
Yesterday, Peter and me went for a walk as I'm still feeling quite unfit. Managed 40 minutes walking and as we passed the shops I walked through a pile of leaves, deliberately kicking them up. And heard not a crinkle, a whisper or even a rustling. With my right hearing aid, if I don't think too hard, nothing sounds much different. Except, I'm having to rotate my whole body to locate sounds, to fully concentrate on speakers. My left is a black hole of nothingness, not even Mathew McConnaughey is in some little 4d world tapping out messages. There's nothing. So not to hear that familiar whish and shushing sound of the leaves was really disconcerting. Now that I think about it, my left did quite a bit to add fullness to sounds, even if I couldn't understand speech with it.
Take this song for starters, The Lark Ascending, which was part of my wedding music. With two hearing aids, I could hear and 'detect' that the violin was playing a very high pitched tune in the first minute to about a minute and a half. By watching the lead violinist, I could recognise she was playing and could concentrate to pick out most of the higher parts of her playing. It has the most wonderful, rousing fullness which I could enjoy and it's one of my favourite pieces of music. With just my left only, I could hear 'chittering' and I could essentially, 'hear' some of, although not recognise some of the instruments. Today, with my right hearing aid, it sounds flat. I can hear french horns, I can hear the swell of the orchestra in its crescendos but it all sounds flat. The violin is virtually inperceptible to me. It's odd how, although I can hear the music it has none of that power to move me. Same with Birdy's song, Wings, the higher pitched piano notes aren't as shrill and some of the notes blur and smudge. Her voice sounds the same, just thinner. Even if I couldn't have understood this song with just my left, it still added a fullness. At the three minute point, there's a choir in the background, or her own voice, whatever it is sounds much fainter than remembered.
Hoping to get back to work this week, feels like a lifetime has passed.
I didn't put much into the hospital based posts. I should add the following details for reference, they may be useful.
* We booked into the Travelodge which is on Upper Brook Street. It was handy because it was only a 10 minute walk from the room to the ward, deep in the heart of the hospital. As I was worried about being late or getting lost, we explored the hospital and found the department the day before, once we'd settled into the room. Don't expect a nice view. Or a bath. Unless you book a business rate room! (I'd check that one as I'm not 100% sure) Also make sure your partner packs ear plugs if they wake easily, there were a couple of ambulance sirens in the night which woke Peter.
* The hotel is fine, not as good as its competitor but it was a room and what more does one need when it is so close to the hospital? Take a nice shower gel and wash your hair, is my advice! Get it as squeaky clean as possible, and tie up away from the side to be implanted unless you want it matted and tangled beneath a pressure bandage!
* As the appointment was so early in the morning, Peter and me got the train to Manchester the day before as we figured it would cut the stress out. (It did)
*I packed the following things, most of which went unused as I was such an appallingly bad patient at recovering!
1 - Dressing gown - they did provide a robe but a very thin one to match the equally as thin and depressing hospital gown with a gaping gap when the back should have been. I was glad of the protection afforded to me by my thick, full length, fleecy dressing gown!
2 - Slippers - ended up not wearing these. Was provided with hospital socks. I wouldn't bother packing slippers.
3 - Wet wipes - useful for wiping my face down before facing the world with all my puffy faced, pillow lined glory.
4 - Magazines and book - Ah. The intentions! As I didn't recover well immediately, and slept all the way through being prodded until Peter's appearance, nothing was read. Or eaten. Which leads me to...
5 - Water and grapes, sweets. - Would definitely recommend a bottle of water with a sports cap.
6 - Notepad and pen - very useful for post op communications!
7 - If you're working and get a fit-note written by the doctor, make sure you take it away! Or it will get lost 'in the notes' and eventually posted out, like mine did.
Ooh, can't believe I haven't mentioned this till now but I have my switch on! I think I'll do a separate post for that or it'll just get confusing.
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