It was a good day. A little sick. A little crazy. A little tiring. But good. We left the house at 7am and headed into Seattle for an early morning CT scan. I had so built Laylee up about how cool it was to go into a giant tunnel that was like a big camera that she practically jumped up on the table and grinned at the tech as she strapped her head down. When it was all done, she thanked the woman and gushed about how awesome it was and how jealous Magoo would be.
The pictures show everything to have developed normally. Everything’s where it should be and it’s all the right size and apparently the right colors, gray, white or black in the pictures. The good thing is that although her hearing loss is permanent, it doesn’t appear to be degenerative.
Then we met with an audiologist again for another rousing game of put-the-block-in-the-bucket-when-you-hear-a-beep. Super fun! Laylee loves that game even more now that we’ve read the book Oliver Gets Hearing Aids a couple hundred times. Her results were the same. It’s frustrating to sit in the booth and hear the beeps and see her staring straight ahead concentrating, straining to hear but not getting it until the volume has been turned up several times. I just want to wave or give her a sign, text message her, anything to help her win this particular game.
The truth is that it could be a lot worse. She is fully functional with a little trouble hearing some sounds and some volumes. She would get along fine without any help but will do even better with some understanding and in a few weeks some hearing aids. We took the molds today for a pink sparkly pair which should be ready in a few weeks. Very fashion fabulous.
In the 5 hours we were there, we also met with a geneticist, a therapist who hooked us up with a state specialist to help with school stuff, a couple of other doctors, and a cafeteria lady who sold us some un-naturally brightly-colored ice cream. The consensus is that Laylee’s a precious peach who probably inherited her hearing loss from Dan, also precious but somewhat of a culprit in this instance, and that it’s bound to remain stable if we don’t drop her on her head or start taking her to Rage Against the Machine concerts fortnightly.
It’s good. We’re blessed. Our insurance is with one of the few companies that will cover the entire expense of the hearing aids and tests, so far amounting to several thousand dollars. She’s happy, we’re calmer and everything’s gonna be alright.