Interview with My Dad.

You’ve been waiting for this!! Turn the phone off, put all your calls through to your voicemail, because the time has finally arrived. It’s our one-on-one interview with Korrie (Dad), exclusive to tinnitusmarathon.blogspot.com.

So without further adieu, below is our colour-coded interview, exactly how it all went down:

Michelle: Hi, Dad.
Dad: Hey Michelle.
Michelle: You good? Want a drink or something?
Dad: Nah, I’m good….
Michelle: Right then…Mom! Could you bring Dad a beer?
Dad: No - I’m good! Carol, no beer, thanks!
Mom: [doesn’t budge from her place on the couch, where she is reading her book…]
Michelle: Okay, let’s start then. Ready?
Dad: Let’s roll…
Michelle: Kay…do you remember the first symptoms of Tinnitus that you noticed?
Dad: Late 1992 I had an ear infection which produced "T" for the first time. Sounded like the buzzing of 10,000 Bees in my head! It slowly faded after about 2 months. What a relief! Late in 1995 had another ear infection; bees came back and have never left since!
Michelle: What made you think, or when did you realize something was wrong & this wasn’t going to go away?
Dad: After the second ear infection, there was no fading of "T" at all. Countless nights were spent trying to sleep but all I could do was flop around in bed like a "fish out of water”. My gut feeling told me I was in deep trouble. Going to work was a nightmare; it was probably a human "safety hazard" there. Work was a noisy atmosphere requiring hearing protection. The ear protection trapped "T" even more in my head. Then I’d try to sleep after work and just flop in bed again. No sleep, terrible noise in my head at work......no sleep, terrible noise in my head at work. It was a vicious cycle that just repeated itself over and over. Despair really setting in by now.
Michelle: What were your thoughts then?
Dad: Short answer - thought I was going insane. Maybe I was, at first.
Michelle: Do you remember your first visit to your doctor about it? What suggestions were offered? Was she sympathetic or helpful?
Dad: First visits to Doctor were a complete waste of time. They could "see nothing" in the ear they could fix and so they’d tell you to "learn to live with it." Which is fine, but they offered no suggestions on coping. You are on your own, adding to feelings of deeper despair.
Mom: [looks up from her book, like she’s just thought of something] Hey!! Do you guys want something to drink??
Dad: Yeah, maybe I’ll have a beer?
Mom: [brings beer] Why didn’t you guys SAY something? Michelle, don’t you want something?
Michelle: No thanks - I’m trying to work here. Dad, how did you find out about TRT (Tinnitus Retraining Therapy)? What relief did it offer for you?
Dad: I had joined a "T" support group and learned about it there. Offered no relief whatsoever. Despair continued!
Michelle: Would you talk about the brain surgery you underwent in 1997?
Dad: There is a long medical name for the surgery but basically it was a neurological procedure that found two microscopic blood vessels were impinging on an auditory nerve. Two microscopic Teflon pads were placed between the blood vessels and the nerve. It was supposed to "cushion" the nerve. The surgery was performed in Toronto in '97 and was not successful -"T" was still there. It did however have a very negative result. Speech discrimination in my right ear is almost totally gone. Meaning simply, words I hear with that ear are scrambled. A simple sentence sounds like a foreign language is one way to put it.
I was the second person in Canada, I believe, to have this procedure. It's no longer done. I wonder why?
Michelle: Hey!! Meant to thank you guys for the running skirt!! It’s the cat’s A$$!!
Mom: Mi-chelle!!
Dad: You’re welcome, but why do you have to swear so much?
Michelle: Ummm…Sorry? [Uncomfortable silence, while my father stares me down] Aaaaanyways…Can you tell about some of the things you used to love to do, that you don’t do anymore because of Tinnitus?
Dad: That's an easy one. Always enjoyed cars - fixing them, showing them but most of all "drag racing" them. Did a lot of traveling to shows and races here and in the U.S. Met a lot of nice people along the way. Why do I not do this anymore? "T" impacts concentration and focus. Neither of which I have much of anymore. Tried a couple of times to "rekindle" passion for cars but it's not there anymore. Also, going to "drag races" is out of the question. It can be noisy to say the least. It was always an adrenaline rush to race. I miss it.
Miss my family and friends too! It's so hard trying to carry on conversation when more than one person is in the room talking. So, I avoid going to most gatherings. Sad huh?
Miss being a productive member of society too. Always took pride in my work. Man, the things I miss would be an endless list!
Michelle: You always had the best cars in town. Can you list some of them?
Dad: Sure, here's a few:
'65 Chevelle SS
'65 & '67 Impala SS
'67 Camaro RS/SS convertible (black with black interior and white top. (Super nice car)
'69 GTO.....do you remember "driving" that?
Michelle: Oh, yeah, for sure. I was like, six? Sitting on your lap!
Dad: Also there was the '79 Li'l Red Express Truck… A few others in between but my favorites were the Buicks I had:
'70 GS that was "built" for speed! Was a blast to drive and race.
'70 Skylark (GS clone) that I ''framed off." Was "better than new."
'87 Buick Grand National that was scary fast too. You never lost a race did you??
Michelle: Me? Ha!! Man, no way!!
uhhh.....I mean……I never raced that car! I drove it to school and back home, like I was told!
Dad: Had a few other Buicks but those were my favorites. Which one would I like to have back?
The three Buicks I mentioned. They all defined "Going Fast With Class"
Michelle: I totally agree. The Buicks were my faves too….Could you describe a typical day for you, starting from when you wake up in the morning?
Dad: That's a hard one. Briefly, I get up early; avoid any noisy atmosphere, (meaning I am in my home almost all of the time). This is where I am "in control" of what happens to me. Spend a bit of time on computer but mostly I just wish it was night time again so I could sleep for a bit. That is my only escape, sleep. Long days, short nights, I wonder myself, how do I do it?
Michelle: Me too; I wonder that too. Do you EVER experience relief?
Dad: Answer to that is again, only when I sleep. No relief ever during waking hours. "T" never goes down, will go up at times though. Those days are a killer when that happens.
Michelle: What brings you joy now?
Dad: Knowing my "kid" and "grandkids" are doing well in life. Don't see them as much as I thought I would but that does not stop me from knowing how they are doing and what they are accomplishing. They are my "Joy in Life" and always will be.
Michelle: That’s really nice. I was a pretty good kid eh? Good teenager?
Dad: Yeah you were a pretty darn good kid, except for knocking down snow banks after I finished shoveling the driveway! You reminded me of that just the other day when your kids were playing in my snowbanks and I didn't give them trouble!! I have a lot of good memories of you being a kid. Was a magical time that went by in an instant, seems like.
Good teenager? Must have been, I let you drive my cars! Think you must have thrown some good parties too, just wish we had been home when you did. Bet you do too, huh?
Michelle: I have no idea what you're talking about? Parties?? Seriously, I don't know what you mean. What is your biggest frustration, today?
Dad: Another easy one, trying hard to concentrate on answering these questions. The more I try, the harder it becomes. Frustrating at its "best."
Michelle: What does it sound like?
Dad: Like 10,000 bees buzzing inside my head. It's a real "falsetto" type of buzz too! No "low drone" for those li'l buggers!
Michelle: Okay, last question. Who is your favorite offspring? I’ve always wanted to ask you that?
Dad: What this?? A trick question? Well, let me see…seeing as you’re an ONLY CHILD, I guess the answer to that is a no-brainer.
Michelle: [laughing] I know, I was just kidding. Mom! Did you hear that? Mom? Are you still reading?
Mom: [Silence and stillness. This woman is engrossed in whatever she is reading!]
Michelle: [Makes mental note to check Mom’s pulse when this interview wraps up] Okay then. [Leans into Dad, whispering] Who do you like better between me and Mom?
Dad: [Gets up and walks into another room, shaking his head] Oh, Michelle….this ‘interview’ has ended.



**Okay, I’ll admit that some of these answers may have been edited or enhanced (perhaps even totally fabricated) for ease of reading. Or, for my own amusement. But not the Tinnitus stuff. Those words are all original and untouched.

winter confessional

I've decided to place a post here, in lieu of the Interview with my Dad. We're ironing out some kinks in his contract. He's just reading the small print, I guess.

I have a small confession to make and it has to do with snow.

It's no secret here that I'm not friends with the snow. It makes things cold. It makes things messy. It makes me miserable. We just don't get along.

In November, when we had our first snowfall, I naively shrugged my shoulders and took my runs inside onto the treadmills for a bit. 'It's fine', I thought. 'I'll just scurry along here on this treadmill - like a hamster in a wheel - for a couple of months, and before I know it the snow will melt, and I'll take this activity back outdoors where it belongs!'

Oh, sweet, sweet, stupid girl!

Fast forward about 48 hours to my first long run, which was approximately 6 miles at that time. I prepared myself with some new tunes on my iPod, and sashayed into that gym like I owned the place (I was about to run 6 straight miles, after all).

The first three miles were fabulous. I felt strong, pace was good, music was great. But then my ADD kicked in, and the last three miles of that run was pure H.E.Doublehockeysticks!! I tried every trick in the book to keep my brain occupied - I tried to watch The Surreal Life on the tv in front of me, I checked my form in the mirrors in front of me, I switched up the songs on my iPod, I tried to peek at the girl's stats on the treadmill beside me. When I finished that run, I vowed to myself never to put myself through a treadmill workout any longer than 5 miles ever again.

The following week's long run was taken outdoors, where I was met with unploughed sidwalks, caked in slushy snow. I ran 7 miles in this slop and by the end, I was sure my legs were going to unhinge themselves from my hips and just lay there in the snowbank in front of my house. I was positive that my running career had been cut short, because how can you run when you're only a torso? Only one thing was good about this run - I wasn't bored to tears.

And so I continued, each Sunday since mid-November to plod along outside, regardless of the weather conditions. Amazingly, the reflexive profanity that I had grown accustomed to hearing coming from my mouth was gradually waning.

Just this past Sunday, I ran my furthest distance yet (12.5 miles) during a light snow fall. I can't quite describe the feeling to you, of running down the road, the snowflakes floating down towards you, landing all around you. But it seems like they're not landing on you. They're just there to make everything pretty. And it's so pretty!!

When you look at the road ahead you are surprised to realize that as it moves beneath you it is moving on its own. You don't feel any sense of exertion or stress. Your body has fallen into its own rhythm and you no longer have to concentrate on your pace, form, heartrate, breathing. This now feels like your body's natural movement and everything is taking place on its own, organically.

You meet other runners who wave and give you the 'thumbs up' and you understand immediately what they're saying - 'This is Awesome!'. You wave back in agreement.

Your favorite tunes are providing the soundtrack for this amazing experience, but if you take a second and pop your headphones off, you are immediately captivated by the early morning silence. You can hear the wind in the trees, the water rushing along in the river next to you. You can actually hear the snow hitting the pavement.

And then suddenly, before you realize what has happened your senses are overtaken by the acrid smell of diesel fuel. There is no time to react before you are nearly blown sideways into the ditch by the force of an 18-wheeler rushing past you at a buck-twenty, saturating you with wet, salty, slush spraying from it's tires.

I love winter.