Books are an escape but every once in a while I will read a sentence that brings me back to reality in a split-second.
Jodi Picoult’s new book (Kindle version), Lone Wolf, came out yesterday. Of course I snapped it up.
Edward Warren, 23, has been living in Thailand for five years, a prodigal son who left his family after an irreparable fight with his father, Luke. But he gets a frantic phone call: His dad lies comatose in a NH hospital, gravely injured in the same accident that has also injured his younger sister Cara.
Cara, 17, still holds a grudge against her brother, since his departure led to her parents’ divorce. In the aftermath, she’s lived with her father – an animal conservationist who became famous after living with a wild wolf pack in the Canadian wild. It is impossible for her to reconcile the still, broken man in the hospital bed with her vibrant, dynamic father.
With Luke’s chances for recovery dwindling, Cara wants to wait for a miracle. But Edward wants to terminate life support and donate his father’s organs. Is he motivated by altruism, or revenge? And to what lengths will his sister go to stop him from making an irrevocable decision?
LONE WOLF looks at the intersection between medical science and moral choices. If we can keep people who have no hope for recovery alive artificially, should they also be allowed to die artificially? Does the potential to save someone else’s life with a donated organ balance the act of hastening another’s death? And finally, when a father’s life hangs in the balance, which sibling should get to decide his fate?
There is no mention of anything deaf related or cochlear implant related in this book until page 317. Out of 367 pages in the book, only a page mentions cochlear implants/deafness.
I was completely lost in reading this book when this page caught me completely off guard and bought me back to reality.
‘There was a teenager sitting on the curb weeping………”too much,” he said, over and over, as he shook his head…….
“Is he alright?” I asked.
“HIs cochlear implants were activated today,” she said proudly. “He’s just getting used to them.”…………
“Too much,” the teenager howled.
To this day he is the only person in this world who I think understands what it felt like for me to return.’
I don’t know why it caught me so off guard. Maybe it’s because I know exactly how that felt. I was that teenager minus the weeping part and the fact that I was in my 20s. I guess after almost 3 years since my first CI I have started to forget how that felt and it kind of bought back those memories. “Forget” is not the correct term. I won’t ever forget that feeling but with time it has gotten buried somewhere with those good CI-moments on top of it.
I do have to admit that on the other hand it was VERY refreshing to know that I’m not the only one who has felt this way with my CIs. I have read too many “feel good stories about CIs” that ignores those first few rough days/weeks/months (everyone is different in terms of how long it takes for them to adjust to their CIs). It’s something that no one seems to want to talk about.