Last Friday Alice finally collected her speech processor which she now has to wear for the next two weeks to get used to it before she is ‘switched on’. Thus far, she has had it on constantly and even comes to tell us when the earpiece pops off. She seems rather proud of it, so let’s hope this is an omen of things to come…

Alice and Her New Speech Processor

On Sunday – Mother’s Day of all days – my dear mum, Alice’s Granny, passed away very suddenly in St. Peter’s Hospital in Chertsey. She had been rushed there for emergency surgery nearly four weeks ago now and having suffered both pneumonitis and a series of persistent lung infections, she finally lost her battle. My poor ma never got to see Alice after her surgery as she went into hospital for her own operation a few days before Alice’s op, but did manage to call to check she was ok before being sedated in ICU. I hope she rests safe in the knowledge that Alice is safe and well.

Life will never be the same without her. We have lost a dear mother and friend and Alice a loving and infuriatingly selfless Granny.

If anything, this has strengthened our resolve to fight for a positive outcome for Alice – to fight by whatever means and do whatever it takes so that one day we will hear her voice, something my dear mum will never enjoy, but wanted more than anything. I hope she is up there somewhere, keeping watch and doing her best to help.

Granny with her beloved Grandchildren, Alice & Joseph

We always knew this was going to be boring.  With the surgery behind us, we are now waiting and waiting and waiting.  Alice gets the implant to play with on Friday, but “switch on” isn’t until the start of April.  The scar is healing to invisible, she’s had the surgical sign off, so we are now in limbo.  It’s hard explaining to everyone that despite the surgery, she is actually more deaf today than she was a couple of weeks ago. 

Still there’s plenty to organise, Christopher Place sessions, CICS meet up at the end of April, school (can you believe she’s down to start in 6 months time) and even more therapy. The fun starts here and we’re already organising toys and games for the miraculous days to come.