Six years ago, I skipped my school play so I could be wheeled into the operating theatre to cut my head open and stick a metal octopus in it. It sounds gorier than it actually is, I promise!
Six years on, and my cochlear processor is none the worse for wear – except for the fact that it’s starting to lag when I start it up. I don’t feel particularly emotional today, because I still don’t hear much out of it compared to my left ear. But I do remember the bewildering cacaphony of noise I heard as I very excitedly (and a little anxiously) switched it on for the very first time, and my delight as my ear started to pick out high and low tones and later, voices. Sometimes the battery goes out and I don’t notice, but when I switch it on, everything always sounds fuller.
Six years. Happy anniversary, and I’m glad you’re here.
Because obviously, it’s that time of year again.
- Shave my head. I’m still deliberating on whether or not I should buzz it short or just shave it all in one go. Should I have a go during Hair for Hope, or just do it alone? Or with friends? Document the process? How do I grow it out? Should I get contacts so my face looks less distracting? SO MANY QUESTIONS!!
- Knit a fish hat. To go with the botak head, of course. I giggle every time I think of it.
- Run a 18.45km race! I completed this year’s resolution of a 10K, so I don’t want to run another 10K next year. I’m still deliberating between 15km, 18.45km, or a half-marathon. My heart says GO BIG OR GO HOME but my rational self says I’m really scared. I haven’t decided the exact distance yet. There are too many possibilities – will I stay in hall next semester? Do an internship or go on exchange? I’ll have to figure out new running routes because I don’t fancy running around in more circles. And do a ton more cross-training. But why do I feel weirdly excited?
I really hope I manage to keep on knitting and sewing next year, too – my impatience at regular shopping will probably take care of that. And next year I’ll join a club or stay in hall, so hopefully that’ll take care of the loneliness.