A few weeks ago I made an appointment for my ENT for a hearing test.  Going into the test, I knew what the results would be. I was going to need hearing aids. And I was right.  I am getting fitted for hearing aids in a few weeks.

I walked out of the doctor’s office feeling sorry for myself. I felt it was a sign that I was getting old, people would see them etc. In the midst of my misery, I ran into, in the medical office building lobby, a matrimonial attorney with whom I have had several cases. He looked unusually happy for someone who was walking into a medical building.  I asked him how he was, and this was his response:

Rona, I am going to see my cardiologist and I don’t care what he tells me. Eight months ago, we were told that my twenty-seven-year-old son had cancer and his prognosis was grim. After eight months of surgeries and treatments yesterday we were told that he was cancer free. So, it doesn’t matter what my cardiologist tells me, it cannot be worse than the past eight months. My son is healthy, and I am thankful.

I hugged him and congratulated him. As I walked away, I realized that my mood had tremendously lifted, and I was no longer sad. If a twenty-eight-year-old could battle and beat cancer I could deal with hearing aids. His journey definitely put my upcoming journey with hearing aids into perspective.