blind insight

The couple that, um, bleeds together....?

Friday's CAT scan was a piece of cake. I was in and out in 15 minutes, with no need for that nasty contrast goop or even a hospital gown. My doctor will receive the results tomorrow, and then will (hopefully) give me the green light for surgery on the 16th.

On unrelated fronts, Steve and I had an awesome day of climbing in Eldo yesterday. We haven't had an entire weekend day to hang out justthetwoofus since FEBRUARY, if you can believe that. We were slated to attend a wedding in Albuquerque this weekend, but Steve had a major deadline that precluded us from driving, and the airfares turned out to be astronomical. $300+ to fly to ALBUQUERQUE? It's barely an hour in the air from here! So we incurred bad wedding karma that will someday come back to haunt us, and stayed home.

Here's a lovely photo from the end of our day on the rocks. Isn't it romantic?

May 16th.

That’s when I’ll be having the cochlear implant surgery, barring any wacky results from the CT scan I’m having on Friday, or any unexpected insurance glitches.

When Steve and I met with the audiologist and surgeon yesterday, we really weren’t sure what to expect, or even what we wanted to happen. The appointment had been rescheduled so many times, the insurance stuff had been SUCH a hassle, and we were less than optimistic that the surgery could happen without interfering with a great many existing schedule constraints.

But the appointment itself went beautifully. The audiologist was as wonderful as we remembered, and patiently answered all of our questions. We finished the required testing, confirmed my candidacy for the operation (and that digital hearing aids simply do NOT work for me), then turned to the thorny issue of scheduling. Amazingly enough, the surgeon had an opening on May 16, during the only week before late 2006 that Steve and I had agreed would work comfortably for our schedules. I took a deep breath, and let them pencil me in on the calendar.

After we picked a date for me to go under the knife, the audiologist talked us through the pros and cons of the different CI devices.  This was fun - there are only three options, and I was only considering two of those, but we got to look at and handle all the different devices and their many components and accessories. Steve and I make a great team for this aspect of the process, as I know what I want from a hearing/functionality standpoint, and he understands all the technical jargon. Ultimately, I opted to go with Cochlear’s Nucleus Freedom system, mostly because it uses high-powered hearing-aid-style batteries and thus has more flexible portability, whereas the Advanced Bionics system uses rechargeable batteries that require access to an electricity source - problematic for any kind of backpacking or backcountry ski trip of more than two days. I have tentatively ordered one external processor in dark brown and another in a flesh color almost identical to my hearing aid, mostly so that I can tell the primary and back-up devices apart.

While we waited to meet with the surgeon, Dr. Cass, my anxiety returned. I asked Steve why he thought I should have the surgery, given that I do quite well with my current hearing-aid system. He reassured me that the decision was all mine, and that he thinks I am just fine as I am. But he reminded me of how much potential benefit I stand to gain - the doctor and audiologist believe my right ear will eventually surpass my left as my "good ear," which would be a dramatic improvement - and how important better hearing will be as my eyesight continues to dwindle. And, he added, from a gear-geek perspective, the technology is incredibly cool, and it opens up all kinds of new doors for me to better enjoy music, movies, and other media in addition to functioning better in quotidian sound environments.

Dr. Cass put us both immediately at ease with his patient and low-key manner. He didn’t seem to be hard-selling me on the surgery, and he talked us through the risks in plain English and appropriate detail (and he assured us that he has NEVER had an occurrence of the scariest one, partial facial paralysis). Meeting with him, more than anything else in the process, made me feel comfortable about going forward with the surgery.

Of course, I woke up this morning once again wracked with anxiety about the decision, wondering why I am setting myself up for a long process of re-learning how to hear (and all the accompanying audiology visits, out in the BFE of the Fitzsimmons campus) when I’m getting by pretty well with the status quo. But after having a long and positive talk with my boss, exchanging a few confirmatory e-mails with the clinic, and scheduling the CT scan for Friday morning, I’m feeling excited, confident, and emotionally ready to proceed.

Extreme Flex-Time.

We are nearing what looks like the tail end of a transit strike here. As a non-driver, I depend heavily on the bus system for my transportation needs, and its absence has left me much less independently mobile than I like. On the plus side, however, I have been able to work from home three of five days this week.

Working from home is fabulous - I end up being far more productive than I am in the office, and although I seem to work more hours (because I don’t have to spend so much time on commuting, making myself presentable, or even showering), those hours take a lot less out of me than a typical work day does. There is also something lovely about working hard on a complicated habeas brief while having sweet Shasta Cat stretched out under my computer monitor.

I love the interaction and idea-sharing part of being a lawyer, so I would not want to work in home-bound isolation all the time. But two or three days a week of telecommuting would, I think, be ideal. I am pretty sure I would produce more work, but I would be less stressed and generally happier. Particularly when I have a brief to focus on writing or an enormous record to read through, I could really use the uninterrupted time and the ability to work long hours without having to waste two of them on the commute. Alas, telecommuting is typically not an option in my office.

I almost always work more than 40 hours in a week, because the work must get done. But hours I spend at my desk after 5:00 p.m. don’t "count" for anything, while hours I must be away from my desk before 5:00 p.m. (for doctor’s appointments or personal obligations) come out of my own pocket (or leave balance). I find such an arrangement sometimes stifling and resentment-producing, rather than motivating and satisfying, but it is the nature of government work and is generally outweighed by the upsides of my job.

Still, I read somewhere recently that a few companies have adopted "Extreme Flex-Time" policies, under which employees work whenever and wherever they want, as long as they produce the expected result. These companies are finding that their workers put in longer hours than they did under traditional arrangements, but they also report significant improvement in morale, stress reduction, and overall job satisfaction.

This type of set-up would be ideal for me, with adjustments for filing deadlines and court appearances, of course. I expect a high level of quality from my own work product and I enjoy my work immensely, so the hours spent working are not themselves onerous. But I don't love the time I must devote to commuting, and I dislike the impact of both my commute and my fixed-hours workday on my ability to do the other things that I love.

What would your ideal work situation look like?