A Walk Through 2009: January thru March

I wasn't going to do this, but 2009 was a good year in the frozen white north. Maybe not for most, but this year saw my marriage repaired, and possibly my soul. It's not with light words that my push toward bettering myself knocked the final domino onto my wife who in turn wanted more as well. The recession sucks indeed, but this blogger made a couple decisions for the betterment of self and those lives who I touch each day and sometimes those who I get to see only on a yearly basis. Also, to remember as scrolling thru the posts I had a few font-filled moments that were forgotten and other moments I'll always keep tighter than my daughter's wrap around her favorite rainbow Care Bear.

January:

Started out with a trip to my 2nd favorite place on earth. Ely, MN. No, not the bone breaking cold temps but the pureness of the night’s skies and proximity to degenerate activities. I also won a small live Omaha tournament while visiting Fortune Bay’s Casino, sadly monumental victory over 20 players was not covered by PokerNews, PokerStarsBlog, or Dr. Pauly chatting with the Ice Fishermen at the Kwazy Wabbit about their 5:37am walleye rush before the first thermos of Baileys and Coffee was finished. Maybe next time.


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- Wrote out another list as a milestone birthday approached and the Buzzsaw known as the Arizona Cardinals made their improbable run to being one play from Super Bowl champs (be the Vikes this year please, please, please) and sweated a river card of employment

- Also took the first steps towards a life-changing decision. No, I got the snip sometime ago and still remain blissfully blank in the sperm department, although my wife questions if they snipped out my remaining brain cells sometimes. That first trip to the ear specialist took a lot of introspection and now with retrospect I can’t see why it ever took me so long.

February:

- Received a couple of big somethings in the mail and email from friends that gave me the last push towards auditory freedom. Their generosity blindsided me as I spent a few nights wondering what I did to deserve such friends. I still ponder on this from time to time.

But, the wait kinda sucked.

March:

- More waiting for the hearing aids.

- And bad predictions of wanting horrible quarterbacks for my favorite team (good thing we held out for that other guy).
Then came the first sounds after inserting the puck-shaped batteries into my bionic ears. And more would pour in afterwards

I also penned a short story for Truckin which was very therapeutic to release as the pang of survivor guilt doesn’t ring as much after getting the story out. My many thanks again to those who helped. There's another Truckin story that I'd like to get out soon, and according to the Dr's orders I'll need a good drink and comfty couch with zero distractions except maybe some Steel Panther raging thru my new ears.

April thru June coming up tomorrow.

Hearing Is Believing

Vegas made have its Elvis weddings, Chapel of the Bells, or pick any casino up and down the strip (found at Vegas.com).

But, if you want to feel what your marriage is going to be like in a literal sense, you come to Minnesota and shop at Ikea for that perfect $59.99 end table with the unpronouceable name, hit up one of the many jewelry stores in the Mall of a America, after crossing home plate from the old Met, ride a roller coaster while taking your vows to abstain from sex have many lovingly years in each others arms.

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It has been over a month now with my new bionic ears and the dividends are still paying off daily as they will slowly meld into regular life soon enough. It's a still wonderment that insurance companies turn a deaf ear (DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?!?!) on assisting people who pay premiums at their respective companies for purchasing hearing aids.

A quick Google (when are you going to allow my site back into your queue?) search for hearing aid insurance brings up websites that should how insurance turn their backs on those with hearing losses despite people like myself who's lives are vastly improved by wearing them. It's a state-by-state lotto in which the state's assure hearing aid coverage, but mostly for children. While my wife made be able to argue in front of a nine person actuarial panel my penchant for being a Toys R' Kid, my drivers license still allows me to fly to Vegas and make an ass out of myself while berating the two seat for calling me down with a gutter-ball straight draw on a flush board while I hold top two pair.

Health insurance should be just that. Improvement on health. After getting these wonderful devices I can now understand people at work without having them go into their tape recorders and rewind every message before their triple lattes from the Starbucks kiosk. Rushing downstairs to grab the wife and decipher my daughter's pleas at 5:00am as I wake her up are no longer necessary. Thanks to this, she actually knowledges me on occassion with more hugs and is willing to sit down to talk rather then me resorting to imperfect lip reading.

My son's voice and temperment have lowered since I don't speak as loudly anymore. We get to share more about his media center day and getting thru the rigors of Kindergarten without having to "take-a-break" (that's time-out for you naughty adults who's names were written on the board with little check marks growing up).

I've even seen a softer side of my wife since her pet peeve is having to repeat things (how we ever got thru nearly nine years of marriage before this without her placing a shotgun to my head is beyond me).

Most likely if you're reading this you know me personally or have at least had the pleasure of taking my money at the poker tables, but for those who don't, know that this gift of hearing will be a recurring theme here as what once felt like a lost cause between living, my spouse, and my kids now gets a new chance to meet each other and possibly learn to grow off one and another.

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My slacking baseball fandom line of seeing the Twinkies in action this year is abysmal. If my viewing was a box-score it would look like this:

AB: 4

1B: 1

2B: 0

3B: 0

HR: 0 (HA! Like they hit any home runs)

SB: 0

SAC: 0

BB: 1

IP: 2/3

H: 1

BB: 0

K: 1

Watched the Twins bat last night (two on, no outs for Nicky Punto to send a co-ed softball-ish routine fly ball to center field and kill any rally while down 10-2 to the Blue Jays), then part of an inning where someone threw a knuckleball. First Twin I've seen throw one since Joe Niekro if I'm not mistaken.

A plea to FSN. I rarely look at channels that are non-HD as the TV snobbery is high, please stop being so cheap and broadcast those games on the HD channel so I know when they're on.

HORSE-ing Around

Wisconsin. Live like you mean it!

Shouldn't the state slogan be: Drink like you mean it!

I'm sure StB would agree.

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Bombed the Skillz game horribly. Won a PLO8 SnG to cover all St. Patty's Day amateur night antics. Enjoyed the contortions of Japan's and Korea's picture go into to release a baseball (Darvish will be the next Dice-K, note it early and often).

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Sounds of the week: Was able to hear my daughter's explaination of how her flower bed sheets are far superior to Wyatt's Optimius Prime laden ones. She didn't have to repeat it three times, no frustration out of both us at 5am, end result was a toddler being calm enough to get re-tucked in thirty minutes later and going back to sleep.

More of this please.

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In light of the upcoming trek to Las Vegas, I'm sending a call to any of you who have visited that city. Anyone?

No?

Ok, IF you would go to such a place and couldn't run around collecting stripper dust, hangovers, and gambling markers and wanted to do Vegas-lite do you have any suggestions?

Here's the list the spouse and I thought of barring Rhino or Olympic Gardens having a tucked away short-term day care center (for the single moms on stage!):

Bellagio-conservatory and fountains

Caesars-fountain show

Fremont street experience

M & M World/Game works

Mirage- volcano, secret gardens and dolphin habitat

Flamingo- wildlife habitat

Sirens of TI

MGM lion habitat

Circus Circus- circus acts

See No Evil, Hear Some Evil

Thank you very much for all the comments yesterday. Yes, this has improved my daily life just mere days from getting these hearing aids. But, as Otis pointed out I tend to write to a specific audience sometimes (i.e. those who know the real meaning of being wheelchair drunk) when I should be thinking on a macro level. So, if you haven’t had the pleasure of meeting myself (you’re not missing out on much except probably strained neck if you’re not at least six foot tall) let me expound a little on the before and after of getting these ear amplifiers.

First, let me take you into the world of hearing loss.

/cue dream scene .wav


If you want a self-experiment of how someone with a significant hearing loss (not deafness, as that's a subject I hope to avoid) goes thru a normal day, take your good Bose or other noise canceling headphones and put them on for a good portion of the day or maybe a family dinner plus prepping the dinner. Sound should be muffled but not gone. The only way you know people are speaking to you, or understanding their voice is if they are facing you and you to them.

They embarrassed me in elementary school with a similar experiment with a spelling test given on a tape to my class with someone speaking with their hand over their mouth after 750ml of Mad Dog 20/20. I already hated the extra attention towards my disability yet these feel-good educators felt the need to shine the spotlight on something I learned to just live with. There were unheard taunts on the baseball field, hockey rink, and in the classroom. Maybe better that way versus growing up jaded towards those who didn’t wish to comprehend my lack of fluent conversation wasn’t due to inability to snipe off a joke or voice an opinion on Doc Gooden’s curveball being better then Clemens, but rather to not being able to hear the subject in the first place. This of course brings many cat claws on chalkboard moments when I would try to take three of 15 words in a conversation that I did hear and try to work off its context and end up talking about the Geography test versus coked and roided up pitchers.

And if I may, asking a chick in bed to repeat her passionate pleas four times in bed has the effect of trying to get off while wearing a bakers dozen box of Magnum condoms with a three inch dick after drinking all night. May have to ask the wife for some extensive experimentation on this point, and I’m all for the advancement of science and sex.

Now… with the bionic ears I hear 12 to 15 of those 15 words. Whispering no longer sounds like someone blowing air or Milli Vanilli attempting to wow an audience. Just this morning I listened in as my mom was telling Wyatt about making some of her semi-famous mouth watering oatmeal chocolate chip cookies this afternoon. She was whispering AND had her hand over her mouth, yet I caught it and got a bright smile on my son’s face when I told him to set a few aside for me.

Sure, its not foolproof, I still don’t have perfect hearing, and never will. There will still be times I miss something, but it pulls that sound closer and since this is a poker blog, these aids give me a +EV on whether or not I’ll hear the conversation in its entirety.

Best of the rest… if you have glasses with a strong enough prescription you see things but they’re distorted to the point that a naked Playboy centerfold standing 20 feet away might as well be Mama Cass. Sounds like a door shutting had a dull thud, versus the thud plus the click of the doorknob. A pen hitting the desk had no sharpness to its sound. If you’ve seen or read Stephen King’s: The Langoliers when the passengers are in the grey world where time had already past, and the pop was flat and the food had no taste, that is what sound was to me. There was no extra pop when I kissed my wife, no squeak of a new shoe on tile, no flavor to the speech I heard at the poker table while check-raising the G-Vegas crew this summer. Sure I could hear the southern twang, but the spice within the sound of Wes telling me about the Gamecocks and the history of Columbia or Shep describing these delicious homemade grits I could enjoy should I return to Greenville while at the Waffle House wasn’t there.

Upon my return to G-Vegas or Key West or Chicago or Vegas or home, those trips will have a little extra color to them now that my ears have been opened up to a new life. As stated its only been a few days and there are some adjustments to be made (all office visits are completely free for the life of the aids), and I’ll be keeping these new rose colored glasses for my ears because much like sex, once you’ve had a good time you’re going to want to have it all the time.

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If I may say something, while listening to Mike and Mike this morning on the commute in, the discussion was fighting in hockey. They were lauding over emails from CALIFORNIA with opinions on the subject.

Let’s get this straight. Hockey in California =! Real hockey

Would you ask my Nordic ass about volleyball? Despite playing the sport at a fairly high level for a while, my knowledge of the sport would be small compared to say a middle hitter from San Jose.

Leave hockey discussions to those who know who Don Cherry, Bobby Orr, the original six, and what near frostbite from outdoor practices feels like after trekking to the rink thru the snow with your skates hanging from your stick.

Kids Speak

This weekends was a continuation of the eye-opening or more to the point eye-opening of leaving the doctor’s office Friday afternoon and hearing snow crunching under a foot, or the car signal making an extra noise.

If you consider yourself a parent, uncle, aunt, or been around any child and watch them drink lemon juice for the first time, or crawl up to a light switch and saw the amazement in their eyes of the flickering bulbs. That’s similar to what the last few days have been for myself. The sounds of my kids’ toys go off previously unheard, watching TV without closed captioning (this isn’t perfect as I still can’t catch everything but get the gist of things now), and best thing so far is understanding my kids.

Granted the comprehension stretches only to the broken third-person narrative English my daughter uses and we’re not discussing the ramifications of the 26th bailout of AIG or if Obama will have the United States sliding into Socialism by the next decade. Instead much more important issues like her favorite hat being in the wash or that she’s missing her rainbow Care Bear. Instead of a zombie-ish nod of faux understanding, I can actually reassure her a Coast Guard search is currently underway for her lost stuffed animal and her mom will have the pink hat with little ruffly ball and stitched flower on top will be Tide with Fresh Scent clean upon returning home for pork chops and roasted garlic mashed potatoes this evening.

Personal importance has a scale and my kids come first before overly greedy insurance companies taking risk on bad mortgages then passing the buck like a lazy employee when the gamble didn’t work out.

Speaking of insurance companies, why do you cover eye glasses, leg braces, crutches, but not hearing aids? Is there a reason why the gift of hearing is only allotted to those who can manage to pool enough money to buy these devices? Or pay for the $50,000+ cochlear implants versus a potential solution costing 10% of that amount and has a much lower maintenance fee, not to mention zero potential for deafness? Are your actuaries asleep at the fiscal wheel?

Its sad that I could have opted to have this elaborate surgery and received 100% coverage versus a piece of plastic that would restore most of hearing and paid the whole (less of course my more then generous friends across the internets and at home) way.

While I would have opted for this much earlier if cost wasn’t an issue, the point is a person with a hearing problem shouldn’t have to. My hearing issue isn’t because I sat next to a tower of speakers at an outdoor Metallica concert for the entire three hours rocking to "Trapped Under Ice", I was born this way. Insurance companies pay for the treatment of an obese smoker’s fifth heart surgery because he just couldn’t stay away from shoving 15 White Castle sliders down his gullet while chain smoking Marlboro Reds but won’t chip in for a person to be able to understand his child/grandchild’s plea to be tucked in at night with a repeat of Dora's adventure to the zoo?

Sad priorities.

Lucky for me, there’s people out there that went above and beyond friendship and now my daily life has been improved because of it. If I was the religious type I'd shout out a "bless you", but instead I'll promise a drink, a handshake, and most likely a better conversation the next time I see you.

Peace.

Many Sounds of Win

While the poker eyes this weekend are on Caesar's Palace in Vegas for the National Heads-up Poker Championship put on by NBC...

Spoilers for Semis found here at Poker News Daily (two Team PokerStars Pros in one match, the other will pit a WSOP Main Event champ and Full Tilt pro versus a PLO expert)

I'm still tinkering with the controls as somethings like loud glass tinkling (another new sound) is coming through like deathly sharp shards hitting my head after a few beer pong matches. Ok, that could be the added effect of mixing good beer with Mich Golden Light while destroying the field in my brother's garage Saturday night.

Luckily a simple trip to the office (which is free as all adjustments are for the life of the aids) and they can tweak the volume (the right ear seems a tad "off") and types of sounds that filter thru. Currently, people's voices in an immediate area come thru the aid amplified louder then say silverware hitting a plate at a table 15 feet away.

Very neat.

State law gives me 45 days to fully a decision on whether to keep the aids or pay $250 as a "molding and setting" fee (and if I was 18 or younger those aids would be free in Minnesota thanks to
62Q.675 if your parents have health insurance). Right now the decision might be made by the end of the week in favor for hearing more things like my daughter's foot steps on the floor at Target.

If you're up tonight I'll be covering the Sunday Warm-up at the PokerStarsBlog. Gracias to all friends, family, readers, and people coming here for double penetration midget porn (actually you people frighten me and should go get that issue looked at).

First of Many

First sound.

Crinking paper.

Interesting concept.

I'll have more auditory enlightments after I figure out the controls on these things, but right now I'm going to "test" different environments like places they serve beer to see if I can overhear the townie drone on about how he missed being Osseo High School prom king in 1986 because his unibrow needed to get plucked at The Lookout and now proclaims to know the right time to hit up the #4 pull tab box for profit.

Enjoy your weekend and thank you all for bring the world a little closer to me.

Still Unable To Hold It Longer Then 30 Seconds

Wanted to start off Monday with a post my new Lee Major's-esque hearing but unfortunately I drove through some of the shittiest road conditions this winter to get to the doctor's office on Thursday to get met with:

"Sorry they're not ready yet".

We live of course in 2009 where electronic devices allow us to pass sound waves between two points without resorting to pony express or being able to read morse code. The office neglicted to use such wonderous technology and I was left with a need for pended up relief better left for a man who uses two lavender silk pillows for jacking off while watching Rachael Ray on the Food Network.

So, I wait until this Friday.

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Ok, someone explain how the Vikes do this on Friday and sign Rosenfels (which I'll rant about later, seriously WTF Zigi?).

And now there's blogs and media outlets spewing out these talks about Jay Cutler possibly coming here (please, please, please, please)?!?!

Toilets Do Not Enjoy Happy Meals

Work has tied down for the time being so I'll drop this head shaker (and wonder when the story of brick-wrapped Brett Farve jersey will be used to have a kid fetch an Old Milwaukee from the fridge is coming out :

You stay classy Wisconsin!

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I do have a couple of more huge thank you's going out, including the person who's offer came in several weeks ago and made the purchase of these hearing aids easy enough that I'll still be able to make a few blogger trips this year. That'll be tomorrow when the tidal wave of invoices come to splash ashore just to tickle bare feet versus a potential drowning.

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PSA for current and future parents:

If you hear your almost three year old say the following words/phrases and these actions combined be very afraid:

1) Hear sound of toilet flushing
2) "Oops"
3) "My McDonald's toy fell down"
4) Sound of toilet disagreeing with said obstruction

Sigh.

I Won A Headache and a Monkey

I don't know if you guys want to be outed as helping me on the road to being hooked on hearing phonics but a big thank you these guys making my decision a simple one:

Chilly
BG
PokerPeaker
Pauly

And over the weekend I got a letter from the Palmetto State with the envelope labeled "G-Vegas Collective". Begging for a letter from G-Rob offering to play PLO and PLO8 again, inside the letter said such a table couldn't be spread until Samson gets done with his private lessons from Robert Williamson III and Jeff Hwang.

*cough* Like that's going to help *cough*

Instead two friends sent me a note and money reminding me why our invisible internet friends that we've met over the years despite miles of trees, congested roadways, and regional accents in the way, feel like they're in your kitchen mixing up another martini before shouting "I raise dark!".

While we might not play poker on the internets as much as the glory days of Party Poker, bonus whoring, and these pages being more about poker then whining about my so-called life, the friendships still remain.

Humbled, smiling, and graceful.

Thank you BadBlood and Otis.

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On the note of internet poker there are two things I will not be doing in the near future.

1) Playing eight tables of PLO and PLO8 with half of them 6-max.

2) Playing the $10+$1 $200,000 guarantee at PokerStars

The first one was to chase those juicy 25 billionth hand giveaway for four hours, of which netted me $1.87 (playing with over half of my depleted bankroll on the tables), a handful of Frequent Players Points (to buy another cute monkey from the FPP store), and a headache that required a few double Cap'n Cokes with an Excedrin chaser.

Did not win any bonuses since the randomizer choose all Hold Em' tables while I played. RIGGED!!!

How I ever used to do this on a daily basis for far more hours is beyond me. Forgetting that PL/NLO8 was on one side of the screen and PLO-Hi was on the other is a bad mistake.

The 27,000 player donkfest saw me getting thru 26,000 players (finished in the 900s)...

... only to find out that players 271 - 4,000 got paid the same. Maybe some basic reading skills found on Wyatt's kindergarten "Reading is Fun!" workbooks would tell me that the proper strategy is to push, push, push with hopes for a big stack since finishing mid-late field means shit.

No gold star for me, but that $28K for first is a neat apple to shoot for since it only cost $11 to enter.

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Hearing aids will be ready in two weeks with a program button to include "ignore nagging wife", "decipher drunk", and "read your soul".

I like.

The Wait Is the Hardest Part

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I Want a Quadrophonic Blaupunkt

The one resolution, which was in my mind long before it took the form of a resolution, is the key-note of my life. It is this, always to regard as mere impertinences of fate the handicaps which were placed upon my life almost at the beginning. I resolved that they should not crush or dwarf my soul, but rather be made to blossom, like Aaron's rod, with flowers.

Helen Keller (1880-1968)

A little sappy quote, but one that rings true in my life.

At a lost for words at the moment as offers to help me pay off the hearing aids come in. Including some huge help from a large skinny guy dancing around in a kilt somewhere in the Carolinas who found out that $5,100.00 price quote is a tad high and I should do some shopping before taking the debt plunge.

If you've lived a full life, then there's to be a point which you've looked in the mirror and said "fuck it, I'm done with this, it's not worth trying anymore". Of course you may use softer language or jumble the words up a bit, but the decision to fight versus flight doesn't come easy. I've had more then a few of these forks in the road in my life as everyone does. If one were to map out those life roads for myself, they would be paved with hairpin turns overlooking several thousand feet in the air. Yes, I've come that close to not imposing these words on you fine folks today.

It took me a long time to realize just how lucky I am to have a caring wife, two healthy children, and a sturdy backbone network of family and friends who are willing to help at the sound of a phone call or even a blog post. After finally waking up to take notice of my surroundings, there came a need long overdue.

To better myself.

The first step is getting these hearing aids, or at least trying them out to see if there's a worth to them. By law there's a 30 or 45 day trail period in which the audiologist and myself can check to see if the aid will pump in more luscious metaphorific sayings into my head to put down on this daily journal from watching TV/movies or finally hearing entire conversations. Or if they don't work, I ship back your donations and go back to reading lips with a smile. No harm, no foul, just to use a worn out saying "playing the hand dealt". Just like my looks won't get me on the cover of GQ or Maxim for that matter as I'd have to update my bikini wax for that gig, my hearing will always factor into advancing at the office.

Truthfully, do you want a supervisor or analyist that makes you repeat half your presentation or excuse as to why you couldn't come to work today?

Thus the glory of the internets (and a good friend putting trust into someone who can't keep his damn phone charged to get an important text, sorry about that Otis) gave me a chance to do something with my love for poker, writing about it, and make some decent cash. There's no missed joke or snide remark after the river card gave the surly Swede his two-outer to best the 19 year old balla originally from Cow Town, Wyoming now living in a decked out Key West house with five other online poker savants that 24 table SnGs and cash games and buy six figure cars with their frequent players points. All the hand information and chat is laid out in its pixelized glory on my Toshiba 15" laptop. Without these games on the web, I wouldn't have that little selfish something extra to look forward to. Something outside the 9 to 5, the family, the cube, the commute.

It may seem silly to some that I put such stock into a part-time job like this, and I know there will be a time in the future that the work may no longer be there, but for me doing things like the weekend reporting at PokerStarsBlog, and hauling my sorry ass into the audiologist is helping to break the rust off my life that had collected far too long. Maybe I'll find out that there's some talent deep within the horrible metaphors and punny sentences spewed out here and during the tourney recaps and that might get me on a plane to exotic Mongolia for the possible new Russian Poker Tour stop in 2012.

For now, as Crash Davis once imposed his wisdom on the Porsche driving Nuke LaLoosh "We gotta play it one day at a time." And that's my intent from here on out.

Worth More Then Friendship

Speechless.

The way this little community of poker friends backs each other up time after time approaches using family as an adjective.

To those who contributed towards my hearing aids, I humbly thank you for your support in my quest to gain a life I never thought possible. One without guessing words, meaning, and with clarity. If you would like to help, you know my log in IDs.

In awe.

The actual purchase time has been bumped up because of this, my only hope is that the audiologist was just that and not a salesperson trying to cash in on someone's years pain and embarrassment. I heard sincerity in her voice, but the actions will speak loudly once it is time for the fitting.

Thank you all.

It's About Time

The direction of this post will look like my five year old wrote outline. Or if you read here enough times and as people might say who draft heart to heart poker advice on how to play queens in middle position at the Two Plus Two forums: Standard

The week started with a scampering for unemployment information via Google. The sweating out whether or not I would make the cubicle cut, and ultimately watching good co-workers box up while the rest of us discussed how lucky we got to be logging in the next day. A feeling I’ve never had to worry about work because how seemingly solid the corporation is went away, cutting the stitching to open up to show how foolish I had been to think that. There may be jokes about “cubical hell”, but considering the economy and having two young’uns at home to feed, I’ll put up with the Dilbert-isms for a steady increase to my checking account.

Yesterday, I suffered a sticker shock unseen since me and the future wife were sitting on a twin bed in a townhouse with bridal magazines covering more of the resting place then the second hand comforter did. The dress, the booze, the hall, the church, the booze, and of course the booze needed to accounted for. A softball team and friends were coming, don’t skimp on the drinks, and liquid courage was needed because we had to awkwardly slow dance to Lonestar belting out “Amazed” (yes honey if you’re reading, I do remember some tidbits about that night). The wedding was a success except for her champagne flute breaking, and taking some, but not full advantage of the mirror on the ceiling in the hotel room.

I’ll wait while you grab the eye and ear bleach.

My spouse joined me yesterday to make another major decision to incur a sizable debt for the sake of our union. No, I passed on the penile enlargement as the “Bobby Bracelet” package would have required some surgery for her feminine parts to “gaping mortar round wound” size. Instead we went to the Paparella Ear Head and Neck institute to discuss hearing aids with Dr. Paparella himself. He was cordial in a late-stage Ronny Reagan/Muhammad Ali way there but not all there. He carried a presence as a figure head and back up the talk with a huge amount of doctor-type accolades on his trophy shelf. A smile, some kind words, a joke about having to hear more of what my wife is saying, quickly sticking an otoscope in my ear and determining “hey there might be something wrong here” and in five minutes he was gone. We were then whisked away by the semi-attractive nose pierced assistant that seemed sad she couldn’t go full goth while usually hauling around half-deaf AARP members from room to room.

Sat down in office surrounded by speakers, inner ear charts, and several gadgets last found in Q’s laboratory.

The audiologist then checked with my insurance company after I had stated cost may be a deal breaker.

“No dice”. No coverage. Not even the limp-tastic 5% they offer for Lasik.

Then came the pricing sheets for the hearing aids that would help me. Since I’m considered “active” in a you-can-still-produce-an-erection-at-the-sight-of-a-semi-nude-Scarlett-Johansson-picture way, she said that the models I originally was ready to purchase would do no better then someone cupping their hands like a bullhorn or a SNL skit from the 70s where the guy just speaks a tad louder (anyone find it on YouTube?), and the ones I needed would cost a smidgen more.

When I did some interwebs research on the subject I was expecting $1,500-$2,000 for a pair.

$5,100.

After covering the Sunday Warm-up and Million and at PokerStars for the past half of a year, I would only have to weave through 4,300+ and 8,000+ true rounders and final table for the cash.
Easy, considering all the Sklansky bucks I’ve saved up for the past eighteen month!

Not an easy decision to plunge into debt during a time that stock certificates are becoming the new Mr. Whipple approved Charmin 2-ply 36 packs on sale at Target. But, no one said life, nor marriage was meant for sitting idly on ones’ hands without at least giving it the shot it deserves. I want to hear “Attack of the Show”, most of the time I want to hear my wife and kids, and the decision to take the doctor’s office’s “offer” of a zero-interest credit card with 12 months to pay is not a easy one.

But it is the right choice.

There have been many barriers in my life and poor hearing is one of them that can be knocked down. If money is the only thing standing in my way, then the decision has already been made.

First Step Taken

Edit: Thanks to everyone who commented yesterday, I'm not one to ask for help, but its great to know my friends out there are willing to give it.

The doctor visit.

During my time with the head injury I had several men and women in white coats poke and prod me like the meat contained in BG's wonderful Braised Short Ribs in Porter with Maple Horseradish Glaze, except instead of a stomach that begged for more, I found distrust. Being talked down continuously like a two year old who refuses to put away her princess dresses, countless back turnings and being told "that's not how you feel".


Yeah, those were fun times. If it wasn't for a my personal physician giving me straight talk, I'd splint a broken bone with some Ace bandage and some birch branches straight out of a Boy Scout handbook just to avoid the ER.


After leaving the doctor's office yesterday with a follow-up consult due to the severity of my hearing loss an audiologist was not qualified legally able to suggest the strength/make/model of the hearing aid. I'm fine with that, as she was polite, thorough with the hearing test, and this is the hardest thing to do with a hearing impaired patient... there was no coodling nor getting frustrated while administering the test or results. Well played ma'am.


(side note: a drug salewomen walked in behind me, looking like a pre-coked out and fed Kate Moss, yum)


Anyway. To the doctor part. The audiologist explained there was some gunk in my ear canals that might mess up the results of the test so I was sent to the doctor's office to get it removed.


Not happy with this. My intentions were to a) get a hearing test b) get a quote on a hearing aid c) avoid a doctor's poking and proding at all cost


Fail.


Since I couldn't get to point "b" without enduring the doctor's visit I went through with it. Luckily the doctor didn't act like a total douchebag, he was cordial as I explained it been nearly 15 years since an ear specialist (called an otolayrngologist) has looked in there and since my last surgery. He explained there was still bloody residue from the surgery in there. Enjoying that lunch?? Good, because I was hardly able to eat after seeing the chopped up Earthworm-like stuff he pulled out.




If you've ever had your ears cleaned with a pick-like instrument which comes from the tray above then you may know how painful and how still you must remain unless getting jabbed Freddy Krueger-style down your ear is how you'd like to spend your afternoons.

He cleans, doesn't magically revive my hearing but feels like my ears got sauna bath and loofa treatment as I headed back to the hearing test where it was already explained I'd have to come back to see a doctor and shake my head no at all suggestions of surgery (think very expensive, six months recovery, and having to wear a receiver on my head for the rest of my life for just a small improvement). Yeah, I'll take door number two thank you very much.

As I told the audiologist my goal is to hear words with more clarity. I could care less if I hear my Rice Krispies pop, or some birds chirpping outside. Just being able to respond to people with the funny banter you find here or on the girly chat would put a gold star on the day for me.

Now, to the doctor rant... As I was leaving the restaurant (Chinese buffet, destroyed the cream cheese puffs, peanut butter chicken, and a mongolian plate) about 30 minutes later I felt an itch on my cheek which turned out to be blood dripping down the side of my face. My first thoughts were "oh, probably from the ear pressure nothing to worry about" or "DAMN, W-T-F did they put into the sesame chicken today?!!?!?". After waking up this morning with blood on the pillow it finally stopped without the aid of a panty liner with wings.

I did call in to the doctor's office and was told only to stuff some cotton as it will stop after a few hours (it didn't stop till this morning as I was up almost all night due to this water-swishing feeling in my ear that disrupted my normal dream about a high school friend who recently found me on Facebook and we were going to shoot a round of golf with Judy Garland at DisneyWorld). Writing this down Freud?

When I inquired about what could have caused this as my ear has not bleed since the surgery nearly 15 years ago, I got no answer. *sigh*

Since I'm fairly sure there will be blood scrapping for my next office visit on Wednesday, I would have rather not endured another round with that pick tray shown above as my dreams may go from Wizard of Oz to Hostel for the next week.



Will someone hold my hand and hand me a lemon flavored lollipop and take me to Dairy Queen for a chocolate dipped cone with sprinkles when the big, bad doctor is done? Thanks.

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On a pokery note:

I read this article at Yahoo this morning. It seems our new president may get a glance at the midnight rule enforcing the UIGEA afterall. This is a good test to see if promises of being more stringent towards bad policies/laws that people do not want and didn't ask for will be fulfilled. At least talking about these midnight rules so quickly is a huge step in the right direction.

Again, will action follow-up the talk? That's the barrier that needs to come down before Americans will dive into "change". Look under "technology" here and our little special interest is #3 on the list (as of yesterday)