Squirrel

I wrote some new chapters in "Broken" if you're following.  Just remember to scroll down or you'll get spoilers. 

Ron has a lot of health problems. 

He is totally blind.
He is partly paralyzed on his right side. 
He has arthritis and allergies. 
He's diabetic (and I'm going to hell for giving him a bite of that brownie)
He has neuropathy in his torso, legs, and feet. 
He has very poor endurance for "walking" if you can call it that and requires the wheelchair for any travel over 100 feet. 

The worst, for both of us, is the hearing issue.  The last time he was tested he was about 50% deaf in each ear.  One ear was better for high frequencies, the other better for low.  He often points the "good" ear at me when I talk to him.  He turns the volume up on his cell phone. 

And he can never, ever, hear me if I speak to him from the other room.  I still try though, foolishly hoping one day he'll reply.  He always tells me he can't understand me. 

Today was a good example.  He was in the bathroom with the door open, about 15 feet away from where I do my God Time.  I told Ron "I found something interesting in Galatians."  He kept thinking I was talking about a Lincoln, not a Galatian. 

[Paul had vision troubles, which you can clearly see in Galations if you read it carefully.  In many of his other letters he talks about his poor handwriting, his letters are so large, etc.  He also dictated all his letters.] 

Ron could not hear me, even when I yelled.  He had to get up and walk into the room before he understood.  I felt really bad for him. 

I used to be, well, kind of a bitch about it.  I would get very annoyed every time Ron asked me to repeat myself and make a big production over telling him again. 

Then I read a horribly sad letter in Dear Abby one day.  I don't agree with the politics in the column now, so I don't read it, but this was a letter from an older man with a severe hearing loss.  He said his wife, friends, and children would only tell him something once, and refuse to repeat it because he never heard it the first time.  He said he was incredibly lonely and his only friends were his smaller grandchildren, who happily shouted everything they said and never minded repeating themselves. 

I realized I had not been a loving wife; so I have worked on the issue.  However, it is very frustrating to read something on the internet, want to share it, get up, walk in the other room (I should be thanking God I can do all of that) and tell him, then go back to my computer. 

Ron appreciates it.  In fact, I even call him "squirrel" as an endearment (I very seldom refer to Ron, as Ron, in person.  I use love names.). 

I detest squirrels - remember when they got in my attic last year - chewing on God knows what and freaking me out?  Ron couldn't hear them so I didn't know if I was hallucinating.   I finally got the rake and beat on the side of the house until it came out (praise God I was not bitten).  Then I got the animal guards and put them over my soffit vents so they couldn't get in again. 

Detest them.  "Rats with a furry tail" my aunt says. 

However, one day Ron cupped his hands (this was before the accident and the stroke), over his ears to hear me better, looking just like a squirrel.  I started referring to him as "Squirrel" as an endearment - letting him know "You may be blind and hearing impaired but I still love you". 

So, for us, the only real issue is the superblindman myth.  He can hear a pin drop from a mile away.  Everyone, and I mean everyone, thinks a blind person has super hearing.   Some do.  Some don't.  Just like you don't say "All White people..." you shouldn't say "All Blind people". 

I have to tell them "You need to yell at him."  or "He won't hear you."  They look at me in shock, because anyone could hear them from that distance. 

Anyone but Ron. 

Am I whining?  No.  I feel bad for him.  I am sorry he has so very many physical problems, and I applaud his choice to get sterilized.  His hearing loss is hereditary.  So is the blindness.  I wouldn't put those on our kids. 

Neither would Ron, and that's one reason I love him.