A Phone Call From Audiology

Two days ago, we got a phone call from our audiologist at Stanford. She hadn't talked to us in a while and wanted to know how things were going with Queen Teen. I gave her the run-down: Queen Teen refused to wear her hearing aids; when she did wear them the inside of her ears turned pink and she complained they bothered her; on those rare occasions she did manage to wear them, they didn't seem to help her hear any better.

"Do you think her hearing has changed?" Dr. Audiologist asked.

"It's worse. She can't hear conversations at all, and even with her movie turned up full power, I don't think she's hearing it very well."

"I'd really like to see her. She should come back for a hearing test again, and I'd like to look at her hearing aids. They probably aren't the right kind for her and I'd like to try a different type. Plus, we should get her ear molds made with a different type of material."

"I thought we were done because she wouldn't wear the aids."

"No, not at all! We can't give up on her hearing. There might still be something that can help her."

I wanted to crawl through the phone and hug her. Just to hear those wonderful words: there might be something that can help her. Lately, we've been hearing a lot of talk that sounds an awful lot like giving up. There are no more tests to run. No more treatments to try. No leg braces or therapies that will help her hypotonia. The doctors look at her and seem to say, sorry, there's nothing we can do. Go home and wait and see. Maybe in the future.


But here was a doctor who called because she wanted to see how Queen Teen was doing and when I told her that Queen Teen's hearing was worse she expressed that she wanted to keep on trying. We can't give up.

The doctor asked if we had considered cochlear implants and I said I wasn't opposed to it but would need more info to decide if it was something that could really benefit Queen Teen. She agreed and told me the process of evaluation Queen Teen would need to undergo before any of us could make that decision. But it was an option. She told me there was a newer type of hearing aid that was more powerful and that worked better with FM systems than the model we have now. And she said there are actually other types of materials to make ear molds. The receptionist at the clinic would call me the next day to make an appointment.

Which she did. I know Queen Teen won't be thrilled about going to the audiologist in April, but I am. And I know there's no guarantee even our wonderful Dr. Audiologist will be able to help Queen Teen hear, but I know this woman won't quit until she's exhausted every single option. That gives me hope, something we've been lacking around here lately.

Thank you for calling, Dr. Audiologist.

Queen Teen's Knight of the Bus

Queen Teen has a new champion, a young man who rides the bus with her every morning and afternoon. I'll call him J. On one particular morning, this young man came to her rescue and has continued to be her protector every single morning as they ride the bus to school.

The school bus is crowded now. Thanks to budget cuts and increased student enrollment, the "little buses" are packed two per seat. These buses were built in the early 1980's when kids were decidedly... smaller. Nowadays, only one kid per seat can sit comfortably, two per seat has one kid scrunched against the window and the other hanging off the edge. Of course, none of the kids want to give up the coveted, smashed against the glass, window seat, and by the time Queen Teen gets on the bus there are only aisle seats left. Like the trooper she is, she sat on the edge of the chair two mornings in a row, clinging to the seat back in front of her for dear life, terrified for the 15 minutes she sits on that bus.

Enter her Knight in Shining Armor.

On this morning, Queen Teen climbed onto the bus and stared at the aisle seat, then announced, "I don't like sitting there. I'm scared." There was a pause as the bus driver and I looked at each other, then the bus driver said, "J. Would you mind letting Queen Teen sit next to you by the window?"

J's smile was as big as if we'd told him he gets to drive the bus. He jumped up from his seat and waved at Queen Teen. She walked to him and then squeezed past him onto the seat. I buckled her in and J sat beside her, still grinning.

"Thank you, J," I said.

He kept grinning.

"He likes her," one of the girls on the bus said, and then giggled.

"Yes, I know. They're friends," I said.

"No, he liiiiiikes,  likes her." She giggled again and another girl joined her.

I looked at J. He kept on grinning at me. "That's nice," I said.

And now, every morning, as soon as Queen Teen enters the bus, J jumps up from his seat and gives her the window side. He rides the rest of the route with half of his butt hanging off the seat and his feet planted firmly to keep from falling off, a smile on his face the whole time. Queen Teen is as oblivious as any Royal Princess should be. Of course he offered her his seat, she's a princess!

Now that the girls on the bus have pointed it out, it's pretty obvious that J likes Queen Teen. I wonder how long it will take for Queen Teen to notice, too. I guess as far as potential romances go, this is a sweet beginning.

(but he'd better keep his hands to himself or else!)

Study, Study, Cough, Cough, Study, Study, Cough, Cough

Right now I am preparing for the biggest exam of my life: the Orientation and Mobility Certification Test. I've been studying "Big Red" (Foundations of O and M, the bible of my field) since September, but now the actual test date is fast approaching: February 22nd, 12:15 PM. And in usual Terena style, I am freaking out. Every time I go through the study guide I realize just how much I don't know. How is that even possible? I've been studying this crap for 2 and a half years, you'd think I'd know it in intimate detail.

Who developed the first Orientation and Mobility program in the US and when? Where was the first dog guide school located? What are "rods?" Where is the macula? What types of anxiety are most keenly felt by a person who is newly blind? Define "neuropathy." What is the hz threshold of normal hearing? What are the three most common eye disorders in the US in adults? What are some of the eye conditions that can cause nystagmus. Why did you drop the book on the floor and why is your head now banging against the desk?

To make things more interesting, I am still sick. I ended up with a sinus infection needing antibiotics and have been coughing so much the inside of my chest feels like I've been kicked repeatedly by a donkey. I'm pretty sure I have bronchitis, so I guess I should go back to the doctor. Queen Teen is bright and healthy and back to her grinning, ornery self. Rick was only sick for about four days and I think he took maybe one nap during the two hours he had a fever. Me? I'm going on week three of feeling like crap.

I actually scheduled time to get sick in April, after both of my exams and our trip to Disneyland, but before I graduate in May. My body refused to follow the timeline, however.

Last thursday was my last day interning with Laura Fogg, and it feels weird not working with her. I missed going to Fort Bragg with her this monday, and I miss my students, especially the Fort Bragg kids and the preschooler who was just starting to cruise around and explore his class. Luckily I live with one of my students; Queen Teen provides plenty of opportunity to practice teaching. It was incredibly stressful trying to juggle the needs of my family with someone else's schedule, but I already miss hearing Laura's light "beep-beep" of her car horn letting me know she's there. I miss her smile and her greeting, "Good morning." My last week was so anticlimactic because I was sick and only worked a couple of hours each day. I went to a meeting on Thursday and then went home to bed. All done. Laura and I plan to celebrate properly after my test.

My test... guess I'd better get back to studying. Not much longer now. After March 18th, when I take my master's exam I will be  ALL DONE.

Come on body, don't fail me know.

Happy 44th

February 4th was my 44th birthday. It wasn't exactly my ideal birthday; I've been sick for over a week now and on my birthday all I wanted to do was sleep (seems to me that if you're sick on your birthday you should get a fabulous do-over). But my hubby did his best to make my birthday special. The sitter stayed over night with Queen Teen while Rick and I stayed at the house of out of town friends. We ate take out Thai food and watched the Home and Garden channel on TV, something special for us because we don't have TV. I went to bed early and slept in until after 9 AM, then read my book in the sunshine until it was time to go home. I know it sounds mighty boring, but after the hectic year I've had and a virus that turned into a sinus infection, it was divine. But wait, there was more. For my gift, my hubby had my Honda Odyssey cleaned, polished and detailed, inside and out, from the tires to the interior roof. Plus, he installed a new car stereo to replace the one that kept eating CD's. The car bath was exactly what I wanted. Now my old mini-van smells brand new and gleams in the sun, despite her chipped paint.

The dog is never riding in my car ever again.

I think I can actually say I've learned something when I was 43. On the day after my birthday I was supposed to race down to Fremont to a workshop on teaching Orientation and Mobility to toddlers, a good three hours from my home. And I was ready to do it, despite feeling like hell and sounding like a ten pack a day smoker. Last year, I would've gone, because people were counting on me to go, including a parent who couldn't go herself and was expecting me to bring back notes. I actually felt guilty for a couple of days before my birthday because I wasn't sure I'd be able to go. Then, on my actual birthday, as I was thinking about packing for the trip while blowing my nose for the hundredth time that morning, a voice inside my head said, "What the hell are you doing?" That's when I packed my overnight bag just for the evening I would spend with my hubby and not for the day after in Fremont. Sorry people, but there's no way I can safely drive three hours on my own, exhausted and slightly dizzy from a head full of snot.

Yep, I think I learned something while I was 43, and the lesson stuck. Maybe I'm over trying to be Wonder Woman.

Revenge of the teenage girl: how to embarrass your mother without even trying

Queen Teen and I took a walk to our favorite cafe (well, the only one open on a Sunday in Ukiah), something we do every Sunday when the weather is fine. She ordered a Vanilla Steamer and I a decaf-Cappuccino, which is our usual order. Settling in at one of our favorite tables, we sipped our drinks and played the "Eye-See" game.

Queen Teen: "I see a tree outside."

Me: "I see a big black truck."

Queen Teen: "I see a red hat."

Me: "I see a napkin on the floor."

The cafe was quiet with only a few customers: a man reading the newspaper at the table near ours and a couple talking intently while staring at a laptop screen. Even the barristas were quiet, one lazily wiping the counter while the other stared off into space. Queen Teen and I stopped playing our game and slipped into the same peaceful Sunday mood.

And then Queen Teen said, so loudly her voice echoed against the metal tables, "Mom, why are you playing with yourself?"

Every person in that room stopped what they were doing and stared at me. The room became absolutely quiet. I swear, even the announcer on the radio had paused for breath.

"I have a hangnail," I said too loudly, showing Queen Teen my torn cuticle "It's bugging me."

"You shouldn't play with yourself like that."

The man cleared his throat to keep from laughing, I think, and the barristas started whispering with big grins on their faces. The radio began playing another song as the couple with the laptop murmured about their work again, but the young man stared at me a bit longer.

I told Queen Teen to finish her drink.

Last Week of my Internship!!!!!!

Only 11 more hours of interning to fulfill the requirements for my certification and credential in Orientation and Mobility. 11 more hours...

... and I have the flu.

Yep, I'm in the home stretch and I have a fever, sore throat and runny nose. I ache and sneeze and wish I could sleep for the next 48 hours (at a minimum. more would probably be good).

Queen Teen came down with it last Sunday and missed an entire week of school. And of course it was the same week Rick started a big project for one of his computer clients which didn't go as smoothly as it should have. That meant I missed two days last week, but I was grateful for the time he squeezed in to stay home so I could get a few hours of work in. He was planning to go to MacWorld with me, but instead I went alone while he stayed home with our sick girl. By Saturday, Queen Teen was pretty much back to her smiling, cheerful, energetic self. By Saturday, I had a fever.

It always happens like this. She gets sick, I take care of her, then just as she starts to get better I catch it. Not as bad as she, but still sick. It would be a lot more convenient if we had it together, but I suppose catching it in stages means I don't have to get up to wipe her snotty nose when I feel like ass.

So tomorrow, which should be my last Fort Bragg trip with Laura where I teach my final cane lesson to my high school student, I'll stay home and watch movies until Queen Teen comes home from school. Then I'll PRAY that I'm well enough to go back to work on Tuesday. 11 more hours. That's all I need. Two more days and then I'm done!!!!!!

Everyone, send me strong healing energy. I must get healthy fast!!!!

I'm turning into a computer geek

I blame it on my iPhone, the coolest most useful gadget I've ever known. And now that Queen Teen has an iPad I get to play with, I'm even more hooked.

For example, I downloaded this BlogPress ap today and can easily update my blog anywhere using my phone. Still not in love with typing on this little screen though, so now I'm considering buying a small bluetooth keyboard.

Further proof of my increasing geekiness, I went to MacWorld yesterday. Unfortunately, it was kind of a waste of time. I went looking for more info on the iPad and accessibility, but the class I attended was more about managing music and cool aps than real life usability. I spent several hours hunting the expo for ideas for people with disabilities and only found a few. Plus, now that Apple doesn't come to MacWorld anymore, the event is focused on aps and accessories for the iPad. They should just call it iPad world.

I'll write about some of what I found at MacWorld in my next post, and since I use my phone so much for business for my press, I plan to review the aps I use and discover on my press blog, Medusa's Muse.

Now, time to see if this blogging ap really works.


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Classic Movie Review: The Women

I finally broke down and Netflixed Meg Ryan's "The Women." I was hesitant because the 1939 original is one of my favorite movies of all time. Unfortunately, the remake is awful. It tries hard, even using elements and characters from the original, but in modernizing the plot they lost the focus of the story. The modern version is a rambling, woman-finding-herself-with-the-support-of-her-best-friends, chick-flick, complete with a fashion show and a birth at the end. The original is more sinister, and funnier. Women can be vicious and cruel, even with their best friends, and gossip is the weapon of choice. Mary Hanes must navigate not only the expectations of being a woman in the 30's, but the dangerous waters of her so called friends.

And yet, those friends are funny, intelligent, quick-witted and fascinating. They both love and hate each other, but would probably kill for each other without a second thought.

Mary Hanes, played by Norma Shearer, is the perfect wife in her perfect marriage, but she doesn't know her husband is cheating on her with the beautiful Crystal Allen, played by Joan Crawford. Unfortunately, her friends know, and they set her up to find out second hand from the too-talkative manicurist who informed them. Once Mary finds out, she must decide whether or not to fight for her man. But she might not have a chance against the stunning Joan Crawford.

The entire cast is all women, and each character, from Mary to her supportive mother to the catty Sylvia and sweet natured Peggy, is fully developed and unique. Norma Shearer is mesmerizing, especially in her silence. When she's on the phone talking to her husband after she's learned of his affair, you can see how hard she wants to tell him she knows, but she tearfully tells him it's okay for him to "work late," knowing full well he's with Crystal.

Joan Crawford wants her man, and she'll do just about anything to get him, even lie about her birthday to keep him from going home to his wife. Crystal is actually genuine. She knows what she wants and goes after it, manipulates her man to keep him hooked, but doesn't stab women in the back. If she attacks, you know it's coming.

Sylvia, played by Rosalind Russel, is the worst of Mary's friends. She loves creating havoc wherever she goes. But she eventually gets her comeuppance when her own husband cheats on her. Eventually Mary finds real friends, including the fabulous Countess De Lave, who's favorite thing to say after 5 marriages is "La Amour, La Amour," with a wave of her hands.

The original has a fashion show too, just like the 2007 version. Fashion shows in films were vogue in the late 30's and early 40's, especially since it provided the opportunity to show off the new color technology just being developed then.

The Women was originally a play written by the brilliant Claire Boothe Luce which ran successfully on Broadway for 666 performances (so the movie states during the opening credits, and she wrote the script as well. The new version of the movie takes scenes straight out of the original, like when Crystal and Mary finally meet at a dress shop and when the maid and cook discuss how Mary and Steven were fighting when Mary confronted him. But the ending of the original is completely different from the new version.

Ultimately, this is a comedy about the complexities of women's relationships. Frenamies is nothing new, it's been around since at least 1939.

Sylvia - "Why do we all like Mary so much?"

Nancy - "Because she's not afraid of being what she is, a woman."

Sylvia - "And what are we?"

Nancy - "Female."

You can't be shy with people who can't see you

You probably don't know this, but I'm shy. I know it might be surprising, especially since I keep a blog and reveal far more details about myself than most people find comfortable. But in person, one-to-one, I'm as timid as the proverbial door mouse, tongue tied and terrified of saying something stupid. The idea of having to engage a person in conversation makes me nauseous. At parties I tend to hang in the background and wait for people to approach me, or I tag along with a few people I might already know. I can chat and fake it, pretend to be clever, or at least not stupid. And sometimes I have no idea how to end a conversation, so I probably hang around too long, like one of those annoying people at parties you can't shake.

I've been told I'm aloof and sometimes intimidating. The reality is I'm so shy I don't know how to say hello.

This became a problem when I started working with visually impaired people.

How does a person who can't see you know that you're there? How do they find out who you are, your name, and if you're still in the room or if you left?

You talk to them, of course.

Simple, right? At work, when you enter a room and there is a visually impaired person present you say hello and even if they already know your name, you tell them who you are ("Hi. It's Terena."). In fact, wouldn't it be great if everyone did that, instead of having to fumble for names? Or if you pass on the street an acquaintance who is visually impaired, say hello. It's rude to just walk on by as if they don't know you.

What did I do the first few weeks of my internship? I walked into a room and tried to be quiet so I wouldn't "bother anyone." When my instructor was talking to one of her students and she forgot to introduce me, did I say hello? Nope. I pretended I wasn't there. I kept waiting for the other person to acknowledge me first, just as I do every day, rather than take the first step. This tactic doesn't work when people can't see you. As I've forced myself to stop being rude (which is exactly what I was doing by not letting a blind person know I was there), I've also had to deal with my shyness. I'm now wondering, If I can be more outgoing with my students, can I also be more outgoing with people in general?

I've decided to give it a try. I can at least pretend to be outgoing, and then maybe eventually it will stick.

Grandpa Bear came to visit

and Queen Teen was very happy.