WISHING YOU A MERRY CHRISTMAS

Regardless of religious practices, it's the time of year when festive lights, music and a general feeling of joy fills the air. Only a "bah humbug grouch" doesn't enjoy singing and listening to carols.  Sonoma has had beautiful sunny, clear and crisp days for weeks, a true Christmas gift for all.

My Tree

 Grapes are all picked and in the process of becoming wine.  Even a "grouch" enjoys a nice glass of Pinot.

 Olive gathering.  Because of the rains and late cold weather of 2011, our olive crop is small, but folks are out harvesting, preparing for the Blessing of the Olives in early January. 

This Persimmon tree looks a bit like my Christmas tree.

We will attend a live nativity and Family Christmas Eve service and then will share a dinner of fresh Dungeness crab. Instead of a regular Christmas celebration we opted for a "re-gift" exchange and a Talent Show.  The idea is for each family member to share some kind of talent with the others.  Since we only have one family member who has a legitimate star-quality talent (Elizabeth sings and plays the guitar), the show should be interesting and, I'm sure, will be much fun.  It's top secret, but I know one 73 year old plans to dance the Charleston, something she's always wanted to do but has never done before.  I will read one chapter from my El Chico novel that I vow to publish in 2013.  If the show turns up a candidate for The X-Factor or American Idol I'll let you know!

TRIP TO OAK HILL FARM

Link to Oak Hill Farm Site

A day trip to Sonoma's Oak Hill Farm was a refreshing experience.  Anne Teller the owner of this beautiful place conducted the tour for a group of thirty locals as a benefit for the town's Overlook Trail.   I visit the Red Barn often to purchase fresh-picked vegetables and flowers but this was my first glimpse of how the produce and flowers are grown....all organic...nothing is brought onto the property to add to the production of the multitude of plants.  See the link to their sight for details about this farm, an example of how one small farm effected the organic, sustainable food movement.

California Condor Enjoying the Breeze

Another joy when living in the Sonoma Valley of the Moon area is observing the many creatures that share life among the grapevines with mere humans like me. I watched the huge bird as he balanced on top of a light pole assuming he was preparing for flight. But for a full five minutes, the enormous creature savored the quiet breeze filtering through its outspread feathery extensions. No flapping, just leaning into the wind. Then, the Vulture allowed his wings to fall into a thermal and soared over the trees and into the valley to look for a snack. What a magnificent sight!

This says it best........The Vulture's flight is easy, graceful, and majestic. A writer who watched one of these gigantic birds thus pictures it: "High in air an aeronaut had launched itself — the California Condor. Not a wing or feather moved, but resting on the wind, like a kite, the great bird, almost if not quite the equal of its Andean cousin, soared in great circles, ever lifted by the wind, and rising higher and higher into the empyrean. Not a motion of the wing could be seen with careful scrutiny through the glass, but every time the bird turned and faced the wind it seemed to bound upward as though lifted by some super human power, then bearing away before it, gathering the force or momentum which shot its air-laden frame higher and higher until it almost disappeared from sight — a living balloon."

                   THE CALIFORNIA VULTURE

Among the crags, in caverns deep,

•   The Vulture rears his brood;

Far reaching is his vision's sweep

•   O'er valley, plain, and wood;

And wheresoe'er the quarry lies,

•   It cannot 'scape his peering eyes.

The traveler, from the plain below,

•   Sees first a speck upon the sky

Then, poised on sweeping wings of woe,

•   A Vulture, Bat-like, passes by.

— C. C. M.

                   

"STORIES FOR EMMA" In Print at Last!

As soon as Emma, my granddaughter, was able to listen, I told her stories about her mom, aunt, grandparents and other family members. Once she could talk, she asked to have them repeated time and time again. The tales my mother told to our family were treasures, but were never written. Realizing the importance of family legends lost,  I began putting words on paper.  This small book is a collection of some of Emma's favorites. The project is ongoing. I am thrilled to have this small book (including some photos) in print. While it's not going to win a Nobel Prize, it will be appreciated by my family and maybe by others who remember the mid 1900's. Perhaps the stories will prompt memories of your family in past times.

 "STORIES FOR EMMA" information and order book here

DOWN, DOWN, DOWN AND UP, UP AND AWAY The last report about my Acoustic Neuroma experience...at least for awhile.... February 23 to April 5, 2011

All day I had a headache so I took a pain pill and rested.  By late afternoon I was bored silly and felt well enough to do something productive.  I put my cell phone in my pocket and ventured downstairs, being careful, to the kitchen.  Surely I was capable of making vegetable stir-fry for dinner.

I lined the veggies, wok, knives and such on the kitchen counter and began washing and chopping.  Like a bolt of lightning the earthquake struck, only it wasn’t an earthquake, just seemed like one.  The room spun around like the Titanic getting ready to go under.  I grabbed the counter.

My next conscious moment, I found myself sprawled on the terrazzo floor.  Someone had hit me over the head with a lead skillet. I tried to move but lost consciousness again, I think, re-hitting my head.  When I regained awareness I knew I was in trouble and had to get help but couldn’t remember how to do that.  “Oh, yes, my cell phone”.  Time after time I tried to move to get up and find it but I was so dizzy it was impossible.  I crawled around hoping to pull up on something and saw my phone across the room on the floor.  After scooting around, I had it in my hand.  “What do you do with a cell phone?”  I couldn’t remember how to use it.  “You must remember how to call for help,” I told myself.  My thoughts became more lucid.  I didn’t think I could get to a door to let 911 responders in so I called Mark, “Get home now.  I’m hurt.”  Then I hung up.  The next thing I knew Mark was rushing me to the local hospital.

That night the emergency room doctors in Sonoma, communicating with UCSF doctors, took care of me, made the pain go away and gave me a series of tests to determine just how much damage the fall caused.  There was a concussion, but not hemorrhaging or permanent injury. 

Over the next few days I continued to have tests and meet with doctors who determined the incident was caused by a low electrolyte and blood sugar issue, maybe.  My family was concerned and angry that I “over-did.”  The twenty-four hour sitters were back. I lived on pain meds and with ice packs around my bruised pumpkin-sized head.  My black eyes were impressive.  There was nothing to do but begin the healing process again and be grateful that the injuries were not life threatening, just painful and scary.

Knowing what I now know, I believe the incident would not have happened had I begun Physical Therapy as soon as I returned home from the surgery.  

 The rest of February and March were blurs. My only outings were to doctors and Physical Therapy.  Merek, my PT who works with brain trauma cases, has taught me methods of using my body and brain that have changed my life. The headaches are much better, my balance good and I am getting better each week.

I am learning to be patient, a real challenge.  The process of healing will take a year or more but 2 months out from surgery I am functioning well enough to walk two miles and can participate in most daily activities.  I am not driving yet so still depend on friends to cart me around.  I limit activities that over-stimulate the brain, like television watching, computer use, reading at length or being in crowds. I have problems with loud ear-ringing and a roaring sound coming from the right ear, really the brain since the right ear nerves are gone. The awful sounds sometimes drown hearing in my functioning left ear.  I have to concentrate on my balance and posture to avoid dizziness and headaches.

I admit this has been a hellacious last month, but it is past. I have made great progress with my health and get rave-reviews from all my doctors.

Now, I plan to stop all the “medical reports” and get back to writing my usual blog comments, working on my novel and marketing my family story book, “Stories for Emma.” 

A VERY GOOD WEEK, February 15 to 22, 2011

February 15 to 22, 2011,  A VERY GOOD WEEK

Oak Tree view from my deck - Home Sweet Home.....

Mark had been going back and forth from Sonoma to San Francisco, acted as night watchman sleeping in a chair, worked all day and somehow prepared the house for my return.  I had slept very little in the hospital and welcomed the familiar feel of my own bed and home. Mark was so exhausted I was afraid he was ill.                

I was not to be alone so friends took turns watching me during the day while working family members stopped-in to check on me.  Cards, notes, calls and food boosted my spirits and amazed me.  I heard from people I had not talked with for years and from others I knew only slightly.  I had never experienced such kindness.

I was scheduled to begin Physical Therapy in two weeks.  Meanwhile, I took walks to build my stamina and did simple exercises to regain balance.  Getting accustomed to hearing with only one ear wasn’t as difficult as I expected.  The main problem was adjusting to the direction of sounds thinking the noise was coming from the left when it was bouncing off surfaces originating on the right.  The headaches were less intense each day and I was doing without pain medication much of the time.

The incision was still covered with bandages.  The area was swollen and sore but the pain not unbearable.  The ear ringing was distracting and the “puffy-head” feeling reminded me I was not back to normal. I had no facial seizures; just a few twitches now and then.  WOW!  This was so awesome.

Nothing Smelled or Tasted Good....

I had no appetite.  Smells were overwhelming and not pleasant.  I could spell a minute amount of cleansing product, perfume or food three rooms away. Everything tasted peculiar, not at all like I remembered.  I still craved a taco and when a friend brought me a Taco Bell bag filled with my favorite fast food I was thrilled, then disappointed.  The only familiar thing about these tacos was the crunch.  Oh well!  I still could afford to loose a few pounds.  

By the weekend, I felt so good I told the “sitters” I no longer needed to be watched over.  I would be careful. I would not go anywhere in the house without my cell phone. I knew falling would not be a good thing!

Garden at De Young Art Museum near UCSF Medical Center

My first check-up with Dr. Parsa and his team was that next Tuesday, February 22, two weeks after the surgery.  Mark drove me into San Francisco, my first day dressed like a regular person.  It was marvelous to see the world and be a part of it once again. I was feeling well, walking straight, sitting tall with only slight headaches.       

The team was thrilled with my progress pronouncing me “the poster child.”  I was told I could do anything I felt like doing, but to take it easy.  When I left UCSF my doctors and assistants were waving and cheering me onward.  I was exhausted, but exhilarated. I would see them in six months.

VALENTINES DAY and life........ February 14, 2011

After the usual sponge bath, it felt great to unsnap and untie the lovely "flour sack print" cotton gown supplied by the hospital, the only type of garment I’d had on for a week.  My mother stared back at me from the bathroom mirror only she was 105 years old; amazing since she died at age 90.  I looked like Yoda as a rock star. My dirty-spiky white hair was going in every direction but camouflaged the bandages located behind my ear from temple to neck.  The doctors take special care these days to leave as much hair as possible to hide incisions.  I noticed even the patients with huge incisions,  brads and staples going every-which-way, had hair. 

I inserted my body into sweats, pulled a floppy hat over my tresses and I was ready to go home, to my bed.  

I opted to walk, no wheel chair, so Mark held on and away we went, down the long hall where I had practiced with the physical therapist earlier.  “Wide wheel base; focus on a stable point; keep posture straight; right foot, left foot.”  We turned right, another long hall. 

“Fast, fast, fast.  Slow, slow, slow.”  “Now put your feet parallel and stand,” the PT had said. I tilted.  “It’s okay, just practice this maneuver.”  “Now, walk steady and count backwards by seven,” he said.  “What?”  “Start with 97.”  “Hummmmm, 97.”  I stopped.  “What comes next?”  After a few attempts with sevens, he settled on 3’s explaining, “This is to show you can’t walk and think at the same time right now.  Your only job when you walk is to focus on walking, nothing else, or you will fall.”

Each step into the real world brought back fleeting memories of the experience.  The gurney rides, the pain, the voices and lights, tubes everywhere, injections into the IV’s, ice packs for my head, pillows fit here and there for comfort, bed up and down, head always elevated, more pain, more meds, a midnight MRI, nurses, housekeepers, getting up, getting down, the screaming lady down the hall, Andrew the amazing Aussie night nurse, doctors, doctors and doctors.

Mark and I continued.  I was “me” leaving  the hospital.  My body shivered and tears filled my eyes.  I began crying, sobbing, as we got on the elevator.  “What’s the matter?  Are you okay?,”  Mark panicked.  I was fine, great, but everything had changed. I came into the hospital on one side of life only to be rebirthed into a new world.  I survived.  It is done.

The ride back to Sonoma was beautiful but I viewed it from “underwater”, head stuffed and floating.  For my homecoming, Mark filled my room with all shapes and sizes of Valentine’s balloons, vases filled with flowers, stuffed animals and a stack of greeting cards.  No floral shop could have looked more “Valentine’s Day.” More tears!  I cried off and on for the next day.  I am grateful, blessed, wondering how to use this gift of new life.

THE BLUR, February 9 to 14, 2011

While medical science, our hospital systems and the entire profession is mostly hidden from our pleasant everyday lives, let’s recognize and salute the constant hum of activity, brain power, energy-output and pure love for humankind radiating from cutting edge research projects through to the mopping of crap off of linoleum floors.  I say, Hurrah! for each and every person working in this field, many on-call 24/7.

I remember little of the first days after surgery by design.  I could hear, quite distinctly, better than before the surgery in spite of the missing right ear, but time meant nothing.  There were flashing lights and searing pain but efficient people questioned, poked here and there and took it all away.  Pain management has evolved and pinpoints each nuisance.  After it’s over the medications keep us from remembering.  Can’t beat that!

I knew enough from my daughter's and Mark’s voices that all went okay.  My greatest challenge was the knifepoint being thrust through the center of my right eye and I was seeing multiple images.  The meds came, I slept.  By day three my vision was pretty good.  Seems the scar tissue from the Gamma Knife Radiation had worked its way around my optical nerves.  I had no apparent facial spasms or paralysis .  This is the first time in two years not to have at least a dozen a day.

My family was always with me to be sure nothing went wrong.  With so many pressures on hospital staffs it is critical you and your loved ones keep someone with your interests at heart nearby at all times.  I pity the people in this world who do not have a super support system.

My transition to life with no right inner ear happened sometime over the next four days with help from the RN specialists. They sat me up.  Many patients fall right over, unable to balance.  I did great.  I did the same once I was able to stand and then walk.  Wobbly, yes, but balanced!  I was a STAR!  Thank you yoga.  I hadn’t realized just how pervasive my “spinning” and “dizzy” issues had been but now realize I had compensated for years. 

I worked with Physical Therapists, dieticians and pharmacists.  The teams of doctors were in and out mornings and evenings along with the professionals assigned to the neurosurgery hospital wing.  I did exactly as I was told.  The aids, housekeepers, food servers, each and everyone were courteous and caring. 

By day six, Monday, I was pretty lucid in spite of my pain cocktails and ready to get some sleep.  Hospitals are not places to sleep or rest.;  too much noise and too much activity.  I passed all the tests required to leave…like pee and poop (big items in the process).  I had eaten very little, (anyone who knows me knows I am a champion eater) not that the hospital food was bad, but something happened to my taste buds.  Nothing tastes good.  I consider that a bonus.  I could afford to loose a bit of weight!  I would have preferred a spa trip, but this is what was given to me so I’ll take it.

GET THE SHOW ON THE ROAD......Monday, Feb 7, 2011

       

My sweetheart, Mark, took control Monday, loaded things into his pride-and-joy Jag and we headed into San Francisco, jazz classics streaming through the evening air, ready for Tuesday’s early pre-op visits and Wednesday’s even-earlier surgery. 

Mark is the only man I’ve ever had a relationship with that I can describe as a mature, whole man (I’ll admit here I’ve had more-than-my-share of relationships) .   First and foremost, Mark is a golfer, professional golfer, spent his entire life playing and working in the sport..  He approached this “keep-Meta-occupied” project like he does an important and precarious seven foot putt, calmly, studying pulling the putter out of the bag, stroking it, breathing deeply seeming totally in control to the outside world, (who knows what is going on inside?). He decides the line, does his little pre-putt-dance and, swings.  In the hole, or close.

Now, Mark does have his “golf moments” like the time a drunk-foursome behind us didn’t think we were moving fast enough so hit into me, ball bouncing a few feet away from my head.  He picked up the ball and threw it over a stand of trees into the adjacent fairway, turned around and continued play.  So, don’t mess with the man.  There are rules and they are to be followed.

I still feel like I’m entering a movie set when approaching the Golden Gate Bridge. Monday evening the skyline and bridge sparkled with crystal lights, no fog, and no clouds, unbelievable.  Mark drove me around his hometown and treated me to a huge Italian dinner. It was easy to sleep full of carbs and a little Cabernet.

We were up early,  doing the series of UCSF meetings and required tests.  I had lists of questions and took copious notes, then spent the rest of the sunny, beautiful day sightseeing.  The DE Young Art Museum was in between exhibits. We almost had the place to ourselves. We watched the crew moving several tons of ancient Mexican Mayan artifacts indoors. (hard to imagine this kind of stuff is hauled all over the world just so we peasants can see it.)  Then we visited an excellent exhibit at the Legion of Honor, “Pulp Fashion.”  An enormous, eye-boggling display of historic costumes by Finish paper artist  Isabelle de Borchgrave.  I could have stayed for hours but it was more a “girl thing” and Mark had even more plans.  The tulips were beginning to bloom at the Golden Gate Park Windmills (see photo).  I stuck to soups and salads not wanting to “gum up the works” any more than necessary.  After a Thai food dinner I did get some sleep and then we were off for the BIG DAY.

Just putting each foot in front of the other took all the courage I had. I was okay with the idea of dying, I wouldn't know, would just go to sleep and not wake up here.  But, the thoughts of severe pain, not hearing, not walking, being paralyzed, and other handicap visions loomed behind each deep breath I forced into my lungs.  I tried to appear in control but inside I was a wimp, a real coward.  Like John Wayne said, "Courage is saddlein' up even when you are afraid."  Thousands of people go through this medical drill and much worse each day, but when it’s you,  I guarantee it is not easy. 

I did as I was told like a trusting child. Lining up for surgery in the waiting room was a bit like a cattle call but it was organized and the admissions folks did all they could do to put the crowd at ease ….. (Moooooooo).

Once in my cubicle, I snapped on the cotton printed gown and got stuck here and there with tubes.  The medical staff at UCSF was excellent and kept patients comfortable in spite of all the strange comings and goings.  My teams of surgeons visited, again reassuring and calmly excited.

The last things I remember were lying on the gurney wheeling down the hall just like in my dream, but with no Richard Gere – darn!  Where is the man when you need him?  However, the anesthesiologist, Chris, was played by natural beauty Lindsey Lohan back-before-her-downfall .

COUNTDOWN TO SURGERY

 Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five……..

I’ve had my days of anxiety and fear but thank God for God.  I don’t talk much about my faith because I don’t make a good preacher but I couldn’t make it through a day of normal living, much less through a major life event,  without prayer and reading  the Bible.  It still amazes me how that book really does have all the answers.

I had wanted to get everything in order before being out of commission for a couple of weeks, or longer, hating to leave messes and incomplete projects scattered all over the place, but, alas, it is what it is and I’m sure my family and friends will do just fine as they kindly take care of me during the healing process. 

THANKS ! THANKS! THANKS!  to each of you for your prayers, many kind messages and requests to help in any way needed.  It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about all the love and well wishes…..like giant hugs only better!

To bring you up to date of the medical side of things….. The hospital and doctor’s assistants have called to double check insurance info and, I guess, to be sure I’ll show up Tuesday for the pre-op tests and interviews and then Wednesday at 6:30 AM for the operation.  The facial seizures, ear ringing, spinning episodes and hearing have become worse reminding me that “yes” it is time to get the show on the road.  I’ve had headaches and some sharp pain on the right side of my head and face; my right eye hurts.  These symptoms make it easier to have the surgery, like God tapping me on the shoulder, encouraging me onward. 

I had some great days while visiting Nebraska and meeting my newest grandson born December 14th.  I think he and I came to an agreement about crying and spitting-up and bonded while dancing and sharing family stories.  My other grandson and I celebrated  birthdays (his second and my sixty-ninth yikes – still can’t believe that number – thought I was still in my forties).   He taught me a lot about tractors, his main interest.  He is an expert already (It is amazing, really.)  (I mean, do you know what an Allis Chalmers front-loader is?)

My book's first proof has been approved.  I am thrilled about this although I had hoped to have it complete for Valentine's Day.  "Stories for Emma" will be available on Amazon by late March.     

I had a dream about being on a gurney, hospital gown in place, rolling “bump, bump, bump” down a bright hallway, turning, throwing me into the metal safety bars, people in teal jump suits running all over, smells of antiseptic in my nostrils, large double doors opening into a space-ship, more bright lights and instruments hanging from the ceiling, surgeon leaning over me saying, “Mrs. Strauss, Meta, can you hear me?”  Then he removed his mask and he was Richard Gere!  Now, that’s positive.  

LINK TO UCSF AND MY MEDICAL TEAM

My Friend Sharon

     Sharon would be the first to say each day is to be treasured and lived as fully as possible.  She told me this just last week as she prepared to have a heart ablation procedure.  Sharon reminded me to do everything I wanted to do, " like a bucket list," she said.  "We are a couple of old broads now and it's getting damned hard to deal with all these physical problems."  She was referring more to my upcoming surgery than her procedure which was supposed to be a fairly easy outpatient situation designed to get rid of disturbing rapid heartbeats she had been fighting for several months.  She had been in and out of doctor's offices, tried all the medications suggested but was exhausted from lack of sleep and side effects from the medicines.  She was confident about the outcome of her surgery, but worried about mine.

     Sharon never recovered consciousness once the ablation procedure began.  She had cardiac arrest, massive brain damage and died four days later. I am deeply shocked, saddened and already miss her terribly. I expect her to call me on the phone any minute to discuss our next shopping and lunch-out excursion, another idea for a trip, a movie she enjoyed, a politician she couldn't stand or one of her many social activities.

     Sharon and I moved to Sonoma six years ago and met through our local "Newcomers Club."   We became instant friends, discovering we were born one week apart.  Our lives had been very different until we arrived in Sonoma. She was a San Francisco liberal, animal lover, world traveler, single-all-her-life, career woman and I was a Texas conservative, married-all-my-life, career woman with children, and grandchildren. She needed a "roomy" (the name she called me for the next five years) so I joined her and three of her life-long friends on a four-week European cruise holiday.  Like everything that Sharon did, it was first-class, perfect.  We had such a great time that for the next two years, we followed up with week long spa trips to central California.  

     Sharon was always generous with her time and energy serving on numerous civic boards.  She was brilliant, opinionated, great fun and an excellent cook and hostess.  Her home and garden were "magazine" beautiful, and she shared everything she had liberally with her many friends.  

     Sharon Durbin, you will be missed!

Onward

What a journey life is!  Today I feel so much better about what's going on with the doctors and the decision about the type of surgery.  I heard from Dr. Parsa's office and the two doctors DO agree about the method of surgery!  I really needed to know for sure.  Now I can enjoy the next few weeks.  

Still Undecided..but committed

Drawings of Surgery for Acoustic Neuroma   LINK

                     Just before Christmas I met with the second member of the neurosurgery team, Dr. Steven Cheung at UCSF (otolaryngology- special expertise with acoustic neuromas).  I had seen Dr. Cheung several times before deciding on the Gamma Knife Surgery (radiation), but not since.

            I was nervous,  anxious to hear his opinion about my tumor expecting some simple explanations. But, not so!  His consultation was educational and challenging because he insisted I (me, not them) had to decide what to do after evaluating the various options.

            I could choose not to operate now at all, to wait longer and see if the tumor grows, how much, at at what rate.  However, it has been steadily growing for the past six years in spite of the Gamma Knife Radiation which should have stopped the growth.  Fact: The larger the tumor and the older I get, the more risk the tumor is to my health and the more difficult the surgery.

            After concluding the surgery is the only option I see as viable (and Dr. Parsa had already advised it and sooner rather than later), Dr. Cheung gave me two types of surgery to consider. (This was new information and the reason Dr. Parsa wanted me to meet with Dr. Cheung.)

            The first is retrosigmoid, an advanced technique with the goal of preserving some of my hearing hoping for limited damage to the facial nerves and balance system.  This is the method Dr. Parsa seemed to advise and it sounded good until I met with Dr. Cheung.  He explained this is the more dangerous surgery with the downside  involving the cerebellum, so it is riskier with a myriad of possible side effects. If I was young and had more hearing left in my ear than I do, this would be the route to choose.

            The second is the older method which seemed to be the best for me, translabyrinthine. The huge downside to this technique is that the entire middle ear would be removed leaving me with NO hearing EVER in the effected ear.  

           Entering the site this way gives the best line of sight to the facial nerve allowing a higher chance of  less damage to that nerve. (75% chance I won’t have any additional facial nerve damage).  The facial seizures making me look like Popeye are a nuisance but not the main problem.

           I was told the balance problems I’ve had would go away (80% chance).  The damaged right middle ear would be absent causing the left middle ear to take over.  After some retraining, the brain is supposed to adjust and use only the left middle ear as its balance center.

            The balance and dizzy/spinning episodes are driving me crazy so it would be fabulous to get rid of them.  HOWEVER, after reading reports on the Internet, MANY people continue to have serious balance issues, regardless.  I consider the balance problems to be as horrible, maybe more so, than the hearing loss.

            Dr. Cheung gave many pros and cons of both surgical options not wanting to make the decision for me.  As the meeting concluded  I felt clear that for a person with a tumor the size of mine and for a person of my age, the translabyrinthine method was wiser.

            Here it is January 9, 2011 and I have told the doctors I’ll choose the surgery that will do away with my right-ear hearing which I hate to do. (my family says "You can't hear out of it anyway; even with your hearing aid."  But, I say, "I treasure what hearing I do have, especially when listening to music.")