Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow

Okay... truth? I'm really, really bummed at the thought of permanently losing the ability to hear on one side as a result of the surgery I'm about to undertake. I know it's an obvious downer you'd expect to hear from someone in my shoes, but as opposed to, say, reading this about someone else and acknowledging its shock value, this is actually going to happen to me. And I think it sucks.

I've also been thinking about the repercussions of this sort of loss. Things like, having to suddenly find myself unable to determine the origin of an unseen noise. Or having to render one of two iPod earbuds completely useless. Most distressingly, though, I’m saddened at the fact that I’ll be unable to enjoy music in 100% full-on surround sound stereo, which, as someone who loves their music, is a tragedy in and of itself.

Because of that latter point -- coupled with the fact that I try not to take life too seriously -- I recently gathered some friends to have some much-needed fun in light of everything that’s been going on. I guess you could say I decided to give my right ear a proper going-away party. I called it “Hear Today, Gone Tomorrow.”

One of San Francisco’s most beloved cover bands, Tainted Love, was scheduled to play at a nearby venue, so I picked that as the location for our bon voyage. You can’t, after all, go wrong when 80’s tunes are involved.

Thanks to my infamous support group (not to mention a Bon Jovi hit here and there) the evening turned out to be quite an enjoyable time. I entertained guests at my apartment prior to the show and even became the lucky recipient of some unique hostess gifts, such as this:

“I wasn’t sure if you had a mono record player or not, but… here.”

And this:

Homemade card procured from the pages of the eminent Dr. Seuss

To top the evening off, towards the end of their performance, Tainted Love dedicated Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” to lil’ old me – me! -- while I just so happened to be standing in the front row. The singer held her mic down in front of me for a few bars, and for a magical moment I suddenly felt like Molly Ringwald in an uplifting ending of some feelgood 80’s movie. It was awesome, and it was just what I needed.

In all seriousness, though, I’m definitely upset about having to relinquish half of my hearing as a result of this experience. After having taken this sense for granted my entire life, I’m now more than aware about how much it’s a part of me and how angry I am that it’s unfairly being taken away from me. Sometimes I feel like I’m entering this process only to become a lesser version of myself.

And then, less selfishly, there’s the other hand: I absolutely know it could be worse. I read the news. I know there are millions of other people out there who’re experiencing a million worse things. I don’t have to walk further than a few blocks from my doorstep to encounter our city's homelessness to realize that, all in all... I ain’t got it so bad when I really think about it.

In light of that perspective, I do know that in the grand scheme of things I shouldn’t let this bother me. So I’m going to try my best and not let it.

After all, I have a whole ‘nother ear I can count on.