WHAT KIND OF DEAL IS THIS?

As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered. You have heard of Job’s perseverance and have seen what the Lord finally brought about. The Lord is full of compassion and mercy. – James 5:11 (NIV)

In the words of my late step dad (who had diabetes), "What kind of deal is this?" He'd say that about his feet. Because of neuropathy he couldn't feel them enough to be sure where he was placing them when he walked, so he had to watch them in tricky places, but every step hurt anyway!

The hand I was dealt? The rheumatologist who diagnosed me at 38 estimated from my medical history that I've suffered since my single digits from Fibromyalgia (now in the neuroimmunological class). It hurt my extremities when cold from as young as I can remember. It began destroying my eyes slowly at 8; by the time I was 10 I could see a foot without my lenses; by 14, 6 inches; a few years ago I needed bifocals; each year since we increase the prescription. I can only digest bland foods. If I breathe certain particles (like perfumes) harmless to others, I have asthma attacks and may develop pulmonary infections. I have to be careful what touches my skin or I may not just have a local reaction, but absorb certain things into my blood stream that cause asthma attacks. Now at times for no apparent reason my flesh will experience pain that feels like second degree burns or the stabbing of an ice pick. Four of my five senses were destroyed or under attack by this disease. But I thought, "Fine, I still have my perfect appreciation of my hearing, ma joie de la musique de la vive, to comfort me."

The past few years, I noticed difficulty hearing one person talk to me in background noise, but doctors assured me it was just my ADHD influencing my concentration; then my ability to hear voices over electronic devices rapidly decreased and my mid-range tones (which I rely on as an alto and tenor singer) were disappearing over the last year or two. I was in complete denial because I was terrified to acknowledge it.

I screwed up my nerve though and had Beltone do their extensive free hearing test two days ago. We discovered I've lost half the hearing in one ear, and in the ear that used to be my stronger one I've lost almost all sound. The hearing aids they let me try were like heaven to my ears if you will pardon the cliché. I don’t remember hearing that well as a child.

The fall from grace? The insurance that covers military retirees will pay nothing for hearing aids. Beltone tries to be helpful by offering veteran's families a 25% discount, but that still brings the pair I need for my advanced case of unusual hearing loss to $5000.

My husband could not figure out the crushed look on my face as I walked in the door of our home which is in need of some major improvements. It is where we live with our two daughters who accrue for us almost as many doctors’ bills as me. The oldest is struggling to make ends meet on a car payment and college tuition. The youngest will be going to college in a year and a half to major in music theatre and is taking private voice and piano lessons and still needs dance lessons to get her up to speed, plus a reliable used vehicle. Both my husband’s and my cars need repairs before the dog days of Georgia summer arrive. In other words, our budget is stretched exceedingly tight and thin at the moment.

I told my husband, who has been frustrated to distraction this past year by my inability to hear the dog barking outside, the kids calling across the house (which I think is just rude anyway) or understand the mumbling young actors on TV, why I looked so dejected. He tried to cheer me up with cuddling and jokes which usually works pretty well, but this was a heart-rending situation for me. He figured that out quickly enough and promised that he will be working on the taxes this week with the program he picked up last weekend and get us the best breaks possible from Uncle Sam to help me get those hearing aids. The problem is after the couple of years we’ve had with Uncle Sam, I don’t trust him not to steal the shirts off our entire family’s backs, including our retired mothers.

Yesterday I was still feeling depressed, so he said he told me not to worry because if Uncle Sam doesn’t give us an Income Tax Return, we can always just use some of our nest egg instead. This was the most generous thing he could do because that account is supposed to be untouchable until he retires from civilian work. It will then pay off the mortgage so we can stay in this house, or sell it and move to one of the same price in another part of the country, and live debt free in our old age. Pulling out any funds now could risk that dream. It makes me love him more that he would offer it, but it also makes me feel a little guilty that he feels he has to.

I am trying to remember to look to the positive in life, to keep striving for everything that can be achieved. After all, if we give up, we fall into complete chaos, despair and ruin. I tell myself that there are plenty of people out there suffering far worse than I am; I even know a few personally and am praying the Lord helps them out of their predicaments or gives them the courage to face what He is walking them through. I know I must pull myself together if I will be any use to the world as He wants. But some days I just want a tiny break, to feel a little comfort and like something will go right for once to show for all my hard work. Do you know what I mean?

The Lord is always there listening when I go on this way. He knows I am weak, that no matter how optimistic part of me is, there is another part that has been damaged by the curse of this world. He lets me crumple and cry a while, but reminds me He is there to pick me up and dry my eyes and show me something better. Moreover, He promises there will be no more crying, pain, infirmity, dimness of sight, or dullness of either taste or scent in His kingdom, only the joy of life’s music.