Company Holiday Party - Bah Humbug!

Warning: Disgusting display of narcissistic whining and self-pity ahead. Not recommended for the overly cheerful.

I fully expect a visitation from Marley's ghost (not Bob, the reggae artist - the Dickens character), and probably all three of his sidekicks, TGOCPst, TGOCPrs, and TGOCFut tonight, or some night between now and the Winter Solstice. They will no doubt have much to teach me about humility in the face of enforced social isolation. I hope they have strong, distinct voices, speak slowly, face me when speaking, and don't cover their ghostly lips.

Today we had the scaled-down version (from recent years) of our annual "holiday party" at my workplace. Scaled down for two reasons: WE (employees) are scaled down (our numbers have dwindled remarkably in the past year); and the giant multinational that owns us had decreed that all holiday parties henceforth shall not be held in any fun place, like a nice restaurant, a hotel bar, or a touristy apple farm in the foothills (all places our parties have been conducted in the past). In other words, no fun allowed.

This one was held where all our in-house gigs are held - a double-size (split partition) conference room, of the nice, modern, well-equipped, socially sterile variety. Credit to our local admin staff - they did have it catered, and the food was delightful. I'm sure I would have had a great time, had I been fully present, but of course, I wasn't, and didn't, though I tried very hard to keep reminding myself that I enjoy the company of my co-workers (perfectly true), despite not being able to understand a word they say.

Adult-onset Deafness is a silent killer - of spirits. I wanted so bad to relax and enjoy the camaraderie and laughter (all in plentiful supply). All I could do today was sit and smile. I felt cheated - not by my friends, but by this awful prison sentence of silence. Even though I can hear that people are talking, my discernment, at the moment is very near zero for normal speech. Sure, I can goad the people nearest me to help me out, and often will, but it’s still not at all like a normal, spontaneous group conversation. That's what I miss most - the freedom to catch someone's off the cuff remark, or follow a long-winded gag. Those freedoms have vanished for me. And yes, I'll be in the HA (hearing aid) crowd soon, but first I need to collect enough funds (state funding? - *please don't ask* - "You have a job, and we only help..."), and also let my doctors prove (CT scan coming) that I'm not in worse trouble than we think, and/or am curable.

It's in times like this that I know I need to count my blessings, so the first thing I'm thankful for is that I actually am able to consider it. I know some of us aren't. Part of my counting actually can start in that selfsame workplace - I do have many wonderful colleagues who go to great lengths to work with my hearing issues, and have plenty of compassion and understanding. I also have a bevy of the most awesome online friends (SWCers, that's you!) who totally understand what I'm feeling (and worse) from their own experiences. One of my major sanity anchors, right there. My family, who I've recently re-connected with after a long hiatus (future post, probably) is also very understanding and patient, and I know not everyone in my position gets that either. So, we see, I'm not really as socially isolated as I think, and the only thing that can make me lonely is the same thing it ever was (hearing or not) - I have to be willing to stretch myself socially (I'm an introvert by nature). In other words, welcome, Paul, to your own, personal - yet shared - version of humanity. We all get our turn, one way or another. I'm glad I have so many friends who'll listen when I take mine.

A happy and healthy holiday season to all!!!

[Note to Marley: Forget the chains - their message will fall on deaf ears ;)]