I wasn't your diligent, studious, high achieving deaf kid. As soon as I could talk, even at deaf school, I was mouthy. I once threatened to give a teacher a black eye, so as the legend goes. I'm sure some stories have gotten embellished with time. I always had to have one last word with my parents, and my mother often washed my mouth out with soap. Then it was, "Just wait until your father comes home."...! I didn't even make the Honor Roll until my senior year of high school. I didn't "blossom academically" until college.
I definitely was a late bloomer. I was never one of those kids who had a definite picture of who she wanted to be "when I grow up." I STILL don't know what I want to do when "I grow up"! I am still evolving as a person. One of the best life lessons I ever learned was taking what was then called Distributive Education in High School. My parents honestly didn't know if I would end up learning a trade or go to college. My parents at the time thought working in a gift shop wrapping gifts in a local mall was too dangerous a job for a high school student, so I wound up working in a cafeteria - behind the scenes. That really was hard physical labor, and I hadn't thought about college. My parents weren't sure that I HAD the grades to get in, and like many deaf kids, I wasn't the best test taker when it came to standardized tests. Well, I had the cafeteria job from high school until the spring semester of graduate school, so I had the chance to observe the lives of my fellow blue-collar workers. Many of them took me under their wing and gave me some practical advice about life- advice I still follow to this day.
I'd rather be tired from physical labor, because you can go to bed with sore aching muscles and sleep it off. Mental fatigue, I think, is worse. There have been many times I have suddenly jolted awake at 2:30 AM remembering some deadline that had to be met in the office the next day, only to struggle to go back into deep sleep. Just when I have fallen asleep, it is time to start another day. I used to complain to my father that I couldn't clear the clutter from my brain enough to stop thinking and go to sleep!
What a challenge to raise a deaf kid. Not only do you have to break the barrier of silence and establish communication through language, but then there are the challenges of explaining the concepts behind life's lessons. I can remember coming home one day and being frustrated when a friend of mine (unfairly, I thought) got put on restriction for something I felt didn't deserve such a punishment. I protested to my parents that my friend's parents were too strict. I couldn't understand why my parents would not intervene. I didn't understand the concept behind respecting a person as a parent.
Then there is civility. A hearing child is taught manners, how to respect someone in authority (starting with obeying a teacher's instructions to open your textbook), to obeying your supervisor's instructions on doing a task (even if you think he or she is wrong). Try doing THAT with a deaf child. My mother had the unique advantage of being a teacher of the deaf AND the mother of a deaf daughter. She walked the walk and talked the talk. I can remember her staying up late, past 11 at night, talking on the phone to a frustrated parent, or a frustrated teacher, on more than one occasion.
One of the documents I came across, while gathering documentation in the evaluation process for cochlear implant candidacy, was an assessment done by an audiologist.
This audiologist first diagnosed me as being deaf: Some of his remarks: "...presses ear to the television to hear."...imitates dog barking when she hears a dog bark. Responds to loud clapping. I was two and a half years old. How in the hell did I have the intelligence, let alone the presence of mind, to do something like "press my ear to the television to hear..."!
That leads me to think that I definitely WASN'T born deaf. My mother often talked about how confused she and my father were as parents, because I was babbling like all babies do at that age, so how could I be deaf?
Then there was my mother's reaction. When the audiologist told my mother that I was deaf, she asked the audiologist, "Is that all? Is she retarded, too"? This was before the term "mentally challenged." The audiologist said to my mother, there is nothing wrong with your daughter's mind, she just can't hear. My mother later explained she'd already been told all sorts of horror stories about what was wrong with me, including being told that I should be institutionalized.
Now babies and kids today who are diagnosed as deaf, have a lot more technology at their disposal. I have always been a curious person, and never rejected technological advances. The computer, along with the internet opened up a whole new world for deaf people. Who invented the cochlear implant? I'm glad the cochlear implant was invented, and I took forward to experiencing "sound flavorings anew" again. They say the brain never forgets to "hear." What sounds will my brain recall during the first week post-implant?
Monday, September 20, 2010
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Do Deaf people get lonely?
My older sister and I were just catching up in an e-mail on the daily happenings in our lives. My older sister is a single mom. I am single, never married, and don't have any children. We have had family relatives on both sides of the family tree that never married. I may be one of them, then again, one never knows.
She asked me if I got lonely. I said truthfully, oh, sure. I have been lonely, but being deaf and growing up in a hearing family, people were not always friendly toward me because I was different. That's true of anyone with a disability, deaf or not. Deafness can be isolating. I am not a loner, but there are days when I prefer solitude because I've had a hectic, crazy week. I'm really good at entertaining myself.
I have the soul of a couch potato and would like nothing better to sit and read a good book all day. That isn't realistic, because I have to work for a living. It is also deadly for you to sit still.
People sometimes have unrealistic expectations of what "happiness" is. For me, I had to LEARN to be alone and not fear it. There are people out there that are truly afraid to be alone, and are always searching for someone or something to fill the void. They are the ones who are the workaholics, the ones with multiple marriages, the Type A personalities who are constantly filling their calendar with extracurricular activities, whether it is travel, a cooking club, going to a gym to exercise, going to football, baseball, hockey games, volunteer work, anything to avoid being ALONE.
You have to like yourself, feel comfortable in your own skin, be happy with yourself, before you can truly expect to make someone else happy. I truly believe that. Several people have told me, both hearing and deaf, that the worst loneliness they ever experienced was being trapped in an unhappy marriage. That revelation has always stuck with me. Marriage doesn't always make one happy. I have friends and relatives who have been happily married for years. I am fortunate to have friendships that have stood the test of time. These are the friends that truly stick by you through thick and thin.
I feel sorry for those people who are addicted to things like plastic surgery, luxury homes, luxury cars, money, love, and material possessions. When my sisters and I buried our mother nearly five years ago, I remember being thunderstruck by the thought, as we stood by the open grave of our parents, how you come into this world with nothing, and you leave this world with nothing.
Material things are nice. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy nice things as much as the next person. I'll admit to being addicted to Starbucks coffee. It is so bad, the barista has my Venti Skim Latte ready for me as soon as I approach the cash register with the exact change!! Those dear folks know me by my drink!
The state of being lonely doesn't have to be permanent. For me, it isn't. Holidays can be awkward because I don't have a husband or children. The truth is, family is what you make it.
It can be spending the holidays with extended family, friends and neighbors. There are a lot of single people out there, and not necessarily by choice. Some have been divorced, some are widowed. Some are single and have never been married. I can remember one Thanksgiving, my older sister and I volunteered to serve Thanksgiving at a church in the city to folks who didn't have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with. The Priest at that Catholic church, much to my amusement, kept pointing out single, eligible guys to my older sister and me.
Post cochlear implant, post Activation Day, I definitely have plans. I wouldn't mind doing volunteer work of some sort again. You meet such interesting people. My mother, when she became widowed, her life didn't stop. It changed, and our mother adjusted. She made sure that college students who didn't have family in the area, spent holidays with us. They were always grateful, and we got to befriend a person for a day.
I want to go to the zoo. I want to hear the animals post-implant. I'd like to find a bird sanctuary or an aviary somewhere if they exist nearby, so I can hear what bird calls are like. It might be too cold to go to a beach. Maybe. We even spent Christmas week one year on the beach. It was a mild winter, and while you had to wear a winter jacket while strolling on the beach, up at our rental house, you could sit out on the deck in your pj's or nightgown, with your cup of coffee, it was that warm. I have always loved the ocean. I was first introduced to the ocean when I was eight, and I was surprised that the ocean tasted salty!
I think part of the reason I am such a regular at Starbucks, is because of the people who bring their dogs with them. There are all kinds of different breeds, and the dogs all seem to know that I love animals. I don't own a cat because while they are low maintenance animals, I don't like cleaning out litter boxes. A dog is out of the question at the moment because my work is so hectic and it can get insanely busy. I have friends who graciously share their dogs and cats with me, or rather, the animals decide to share their owners with me!
If you are true to yourself, are honest about who and what makes you the unique person you are, you can be a happy person. If you were an unhappy person before becoming deaf, a cochlear implant isn't going to solve your unhappiness. Change what you don't like about yourself, and THEN get a cochlear implant, if that's what is best for you.
I cannot believe it is mid-September already!
She asked me if I got lonely. I said truthfully, oh, sure. I have been lonely, but being deaf and growing up in a hearing family, people were not always friendly toward me because I was different. That's true of anyone with a disability, deaf or not. Deafness can be isolating. I am not a loner, but there are days when I prefer solitude because I've had a hectic, crazy week. I'm really good at entertaining myself.
I have the soul of a couch potato and would like nothing better to sit and read a good book all day. That isn't realistic, because I have to work for a living. It is also deadly for you to sit still.
People sometimes have unrealistic expectations of what "happiness" is. For me, I had to LEARN to be alone and not fear it. There are people out there that are truly afraid to be alone, and are always searching for someone or something to fill the void. They are the ones who are the workaholics, the ones with multiple marriages, the Type A personalities who are constantly filling their calendar with extracurricular activities, whether it is travel, a cooking club, going to a gym to exercise, going to football, baseball, hockey games, volunteer work, anything to avoid being ALONE.
You have to like yourself, feel comfortable in your own skin, be happy with yourself, before you can truly expect to make someone else happy. I truly believe that. Several people have told me, both hearing and deaf, that the worst loneliness they ever experienced was being trapped in an unhappy marriage. That revelation has always stuck with me. Marriage doesn't always make one happy. I have friends and relatives who have been happily married for years. I am fortunate to have friendships that have stood the test of time. These are the friends that truly stick by you through thick and thin.
I feel sorry for those people who are addicted to things like plastic surgery, luxury homes, luxury cars, money, love, and material possessions. When my sisters and I buried our mother nearly five years ago, I remember being thunderstruck by the thought, as we stood by the open grave of our parents, how you come into this world with nothing, and you leave this world with nothing.
Material things are nice. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy nice things as much as the next person. I'll admit to being addicted to Starbucks coffee. It is so bad, the barista has my Venti Skim Latte ready for me as soon as I approach the cash register with the exact change!! Those dear folks know me by my drink!
The state of being lonely doesn't have to be permanent. For me, it isn't. Holidays can be awkward because I don't have a husband or children. The truth is, family is what you make it.
It can be spending the holidays with extended family, friends and neighbors. There are a lot of single people out there, and not necessarily by choice. Some have been divorced, some are widowed. Some are single and have never been married. I can remember one Thanksgiving, my older sister and I volunteered to serve Thanksgiving at a church in the city to folks who didn't have anyone to spend Thanksgiving with. The Priest at that Catholic church, much to my amusement, kept pointing out single, eligible guys to my older sister and me.
Post cochlear implant, post Activation Day, I definitely have plans. I wouldn't mind doing volunteer work of some sort again. You meet such interesting people. My mother, when she became widowed, her life didn't stop. It changed, and our mother adjusted. She made sure that college students who didn't have family in the area, spent holidays with us. They were always grateful, and we got to befriend a person for a day.
I want to go to the zoo. I want to hear the animals post-implant. I'd like to find a bird sanctuary or an aviary somewhere if they exist nearby, so I can hear what bird calls are like. It might be too cold to go to a beach. Maybe. We even spent Christmas week one year on the beach. It was a mild winter, and while you had to wear a winter jacket while strolling on the beach, up at our rental house, you could sit out on the deck in your pj's or nightgown, with your cup of coffee, it was that warm. I have always loved the ocean. I was first introduced to the ocean when I was eight, and I was surprised that the ocean tasted salty!
I think part of the reason I am such a regular at Starbucks, is because of the people who bring their dogs with them. There are all kinds of different breeds, and the dogs all seem to know that I love animals. I don't own a cat because while they are low maintenance animals, I don't like cleaning out litter boxes. A dog is out of the question at the moment because my work is so hectic and it can get insanely busy. I have friends who graciously share their dogs and cats with me, or rather, the animals decide to share their owners with me!
If you are true to yourself, are honest about who and what makes you the unique person you are, you can be a happy person. If you were an unhappy person before becoming deaf, a cochlear implant isn't going to solve your unhappiness. Change what you don't like about yourself, and THEN get a cochlear implant, if that's what is best for you.
I cannot believe it is mid-September already!
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Bittersweet Memories
I was thinking about my first visit to the cochlear implant audiologist. She showed me several implant sound processor models. I was looking at the headpiece part of the processor. I was thinking that the diameter of the headpiece looked about the size of a nickel. My father, years ago, when I was about maybe eight, told me that someday hearing aids would be the size of a dime. He wasn't that far off the mark - as far as components of a cochlear implant sound processor are concerned.
I thought of lazy summer evenings when my father and I would sit out on the deck of my parents' house in the country - listening to the frogs croaking. I still couldn't hear birds. My father would try to replicate the sounds of the birds so I could "hear" the bird calls.
The decision to undergo a cochlear implant as an adult has been a deeply personal one. My father has been with the angels a long time now, and my mother joined my father nearly five years ago. My mother knew I had to be the one to decide or reject having a cochlear implant done, and wisely knew I would be living with the consequences of that decision. Thankfully, cochlear implants and surgery have come a long way since the FDA first approved cochlear implants in the United States in 1985.
It has been a real emotional roller coaster, going through this process. I am all too aware that my parents are not here to witness this important event in my life. My two sisters will be with me on Activation Day. That will probably be sometime in November. My older sister remembers my deaf school days. My younger sister wasn't even born yet.
I would hope that no family member of a deaf adult (let's say 24 and older) would use emotional blackmail to persuade that person to undergo a cochlear implant (such as, your mother and I may not live long, so please get this done before we die, speech). Don't do it. I know you are tempted, but don't do it. The same goes for hearing spouses of deaf adults. You could break up your marriage that way. It isn't worth it.
I know every hearing person on this planet who is reading this blog thinks he or she is "doing the right thing" by wanting that deaf adult family member to get a cochlear implant and to "finally hear." It STILL TOTALLY has to be the deaf person's decision.
There is scientific evidence showing that the area of the brain dealing with decision making, is not fully mature until about age 24. I know there are exceptions. We all know someone who was born going on 40 and is mature way beyond his or her tender years.
I am a person who has worn hearing aids since age 2 1/2, and my hearing aids are the first thing I put on after taking a shower. I can't function very well in the Hearing World WITHOUT my hearing aids.
There are some deaf adults who, somewhere along the line, make a deliberate decision not to wear hearing aids anymore. I am not one of those people. I do have deaf friends who choose not to wear hearing aids, and who prefer to use ASL as their language instead of spoken English, even if they were initially taught to speak and lipread. That person may have been teased as a young child about how their voice sounded, what hearing people call "deaf speech." I respect my deaf friends who have chosen to do that. That is their choice, and I am not about to get into an argument whether that choice to be deaf in every way is the right "choice." There are some deaf friends of mine who are oral deaf adults like myself who speak and lipread, but have decided that a cochlear implant "is not for them," or, "they are not interested." I respect that, too. You don't know what life experiences that deaf adult may have had which influenced the decisions they made regarding deafness.
It took awhile before deciding I was psychologically ready to undergo a cochlear implant. This was not a decision that was made within 24 hours. I did research. I put money away in savings, I saved up leave. I kept researching health insurance plans, asking if they covered cochlear implant surgery, cochlear implants, and how much did that insurance plan cover? I prayed a lot. As a Christian, I am just humbled by how God is making this possible, and the timing of it all. I am totally at peace with my decision to undergo a cochlear implant. I am ready, in every sense of the word.
I don't "fault" my parents for making the decision to send me to a private school for the deaf where I could learn to utilize hearing aids, learn lipreading, and speaking. My family is entirely hearing. My parents honestly did what they truly thought was the best decision for me. I'm grateful they did.
There are those who think hearing aids are the cheaper option. It is not. My mother always called me her "million dollar baby," and my parents paid for the equivalent of two college educations. Going to a private school for the deaf was not cheap. It still isn't. Hearing aids are expensive, along with earmolds, tubing, batteries and repairs. You still pay close to a million dollars by the time the deaf person leaves this earth. Hearing aids were not covered by my parents' insurance plans when I was growing up. My parents, and later, me, had to come up with the money to pay for the hearing aids.
The beauty of a cochlear implant and a sound processor is that you only need ONE. As I have worn two hearing aids for the longest time, I wanted both ears implanted all at once. That didn't go over well with the cochlear implant audiologist, who said insurance would not cover two implants at the same time. If parents with a deaf baby are considering going with a cochlear implant, I'd fight tooth and nail for binaural implants. Your child will be better off for it.
I would like to be implanted in my right ear eventually, but if you implant a deaf baby or child, that surgically implanted processor is a lifetime investment. Sure, you can upgrade the sound processors as technology improves on the product. Some people choose to do that. I also know that I am not going to be able to "hear" with a cell phone using a cochlear implant overnight. It took me six months to get totally comfortable with wearing digital behind the ear hearing aids. I still wasn't 100% sure I liked them, even after six months. It took a while. I know I will have to be patient, and I know I will go through some "growing pains" in using a cochlear implant.
I thought of lazy summer evenings when my father and I would sit out on the deck of my parents' house in the country - listening to the frogs croaking. I still couldn't hear birds. My father would try to replicate the sounds of the birds so I could "hear" the bird calls.
The decision to undergo a cochlear implant as an adult has been a deeply personal one. My father has been with the angels a long time now, and my mother joined my father nearly five years ago. My mother knew I had to be the one to decide or reject having a cochlear implant done, and wisely knew I would be living with the consequences of that decision. Thankfully, cochlear implants and surgery have come a long way since the FDA first approved cochlear implants in the United States in 1985.
It has been a real emotional roller coaster, going through this process. I am all too aware that my parents are not here to witness this important event in my life. My two sisters will be with me on Activation Day. That will probably be sometime in November. My older sister remembers my deaf school days. My younger sister wasn't even born yet.
I would hope that no family member of a deaf adult (let's say 24 and older) would use emotional blackmail to persuade that person to undergo a cochlear implant (such as, your mother and I may not live long, so please get this done before we die, speech). Don't do it. I know you are tempted, but don't do it. The same goes for hearing spouses of deaf adults. You could break up your marriage that way. It isn't worth it.
I know every hearing person on this planet who is reading this blog thinks he or she is "doing the right thing" by wanting that deaf adult family member to get a cochlear implant and to "finally hear." It STILL TOTALLY has to be the deaf person's decision.
There is scientific evidence showing that the area of the brain dealing with decision making, is not fully mature until about age 24. I know there are exceptions. We all know someone who was born going on 40 and is mature way beyond his or her tender years.
I am a person who has worn hearing aids since age 2 1/2, and my hearing aids are the first thing I put on after taking a shower. I can't function very well in the Hearing World WITHOUT my hearing aids.
There are some deaf adults who, somewhere along the line, make a deliberate decision not to wear hearing aids anymore. I am not one of those people. I do have deaf friends who choose not to wear hearing aids, and who prefer to use ASL as their language instead of spoken English, even if they were initially taught to speak and lipread. That person may have been teased as a young child about how their voice sounded, what hearing people call "deaf speech." I respect my deaf friends who have chosen to do that. That is their choice, and I am not about to get into an argument whether that choice to be deaf in every way is the right "choice." There are some deaf friends of mine who are oral deaf adults like myself who speak and lipread, but have decided that a cochlear implant "is not for them," or, "they are not interested." I respect that, too. You don't know what life experiences that deaf adult may have had which influenced the decisions they made regarding deafness.
It took awhile before deciding I was psychologically ready to undergo a cochlear implant. This was not a decision that was made within 24 hours. I did research. I put money away in savings, I saved up leave. I kept researching health insurance plans, asking if they covered cochlear implant surgery, cochlear implants, and how much did that insurance plan cover? I prayed a lot. As a Christian, I am just humbled by how God is making this possible, and the timing of it all. I am totally at peace with my decision to undergo a cochlear implant. I am ready, in every sense of the word.
I don't "fault" my parents for making the decision to send me to a private school for the deaf where I could learn to utilize hearing aids, learn lipreading, and speaking. My family is entirely hearing. My parents honestly did what they truly thought was the best decision for me. I'm grateful they did.
There are those who think hearing aids are the cheaper option. It is not. My mother always called me her "million dollar baby," and my parents paid for the equivalent of two college educations. Going to a private school for the deaf was not cheap. It still isn't. Hearing aids are expensive, along with earmolds, tubing, batteries and repairs. You still pay close to a million dollars by the time the deaf person leaves this earth. Hearing aids were not covered by my parents' insurance plans when I was growing up. My parents, and later, me, had to come up with the money to pay for the hearing aids.
The beauty of a cochlear implant and a sound processor is that you only need ONE. As I have worn two hearing aids for the longest time, I wanted both ears implanted all at once. That didn't go over well with the cochlear implant audiologist, who said insurance would not cover two implants at the same time. If parents with a deaf baby are considering going with a cochlear implant, I'd fight tooth and nail for binaural implants. Your child will be better off for it.
I would like to be implanted in my right ear eventually, but if you implant a deaf baby or child, that surgically implanted processor is a lifetime investment. Sure, you can upgrade the sound processors as technology improves on the product. Some people choose to do that. I also know that I am not going to be able to "hear" with a cell phone using a cochlear implant overnight. It took me six months to get totally comfortable with wearing digital behind the ear hearing aids. I still wasn't 100% sure I liked them, even after six months. It took a while. I know I will have to be patient, and I know I will go through some "growing pains" in using a cochlear implant.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Telemarketers and Solicitations from a Deaf Perspective
I don't know of one soul, hearing or deaf, who enjoys telemarketing calls. I can always tell when it is a telemarketing call. My CapTel landline phone window lights up, and it is inevitably an 800 number, or a 888 number or a call that is "Out of Area," or my personal favorite, "Unavailable." When the answering machine answers the CapTel phone, the caller always hangs up. Sometimes the telemarketing call wakes me up, especially on weekends if I have slept past 9 AM. My signaling system lights up.
Telemarketers have even targeted my Blackberry Pager, which is specifically configured for Deaf users. Any computer or person who calls my Blackberry Pager automatically gets the TDD relay service, and the caller hangs up. I think it is a serious waste of time for the TDD relay operator to even TAKE the call. Can you imagine the TDD relay operator taking millions of these telemarketing calls a day? It must be so frustrating, let alone BORING. Nobody has that Blackberry number, except businesses like my doctor's office.
The next thing I did, was to make sure that all my phone numbers, including the Blackberry, were listed with the Do Not Call Registry.
I have even had to call businesses which I do business with. I tell them that I am a customer with a hearing disability and to please stop calling my landline phone to offer me promotions, because it is a wasted call. My personal favorite are the calls from cellular or wireless companies, wanting to sell me "bundles" of wireless calling plans. I am too deaf to use a cell phone at this point in my life. The companies have honored my request. Thank goodness.
I wonder if the cochlear implant will make that possible for me - to use a cell phone for the first time in my life. I have been told that there is no "guarantee." Okay. I will still like to TRY. I think I will try out a friend's cell phone post-implant and see where that gets me before I even purchase a real, wireless cell phone.
Now I have another annoyance. Somehow retailers have discovered my Blackberry Text Pager and I get LOTS of junk e-mail. It is impossible to "block" all of them, because eventually even your "spam" folder gets full and you cannot "block" any more addresses.
Is there a "Do Not Send E-Mail" Registry? I even get junk e-mails at work, and I do not use my work e-mail address for personal business if I can possibly avoid it. I even get junk e-mails for Viagra, Cialis, and penis enlargment. I wonder if the guys get junk e-mails for breast implants...!?
What about those friendly letters and/or calls which invite you to call a "wellness hotline" for whatever health plan you have? They invite you to "discuss" any health concerns you may have, whether it is weight control, proper usage of prescriptions, etc. They never provide alternatives like an e-mail address!!
I recently contacted a web site to put a stop to the junk mail. I get so much of it, I recycle all the catalogs, letters, newspapers, which I take to a recycling site. One sack weighed 50 pounds, and that was just for this past WEEK. I finally said ENOUGH. I realize the U.S. Postal Service is hanging by a thread and continuing to mail LOTS of junk mail. However, I just don't feel like subsidizing the U.S. Postal Service! What a waste of paper!
Telemarketers have even targeted my Blackberry Pager, which is specifically configured for Deaf users. Any computer or person who calls my Blackberry Pager automatically gets the TDD relay service, and the caller hangs up. I think it is a serious waste of time for the TDD relay operator to even TAKE the call. Can you imagine the TDD relay operator taking millions of these telemarketing calls a day? It must be so frustrating, let alone BORING. Nobody has that Blackberry number, except businesses like my doctor's office.
The next thing I did, was to make sure that all my phone numbers, including the Blackberry, were listed with the Do Not Call Registry.
I have even had to call businesses which I do business with. I tell them that I am a customer with a hearing disability and to please stop calling my landline phone to offer me promotions, because it is a wasted call. My personal favorite are the calls from cellular or wireless companies, wanting to sell me "bundles" of wireless calling plans. I am too deaf to use a cell phone at this point in my life. The companies have honored my request. Thank goodness.
I wonder if the cochlear implant will make that possible for me - to use a cell phone for the first time in my life. I have been told that there is no "guarantee." Okay. I will still like to TRY. I think I will try out a friend's cell phone post-implant and see where that gets me before I even purchase a real, wireless cell phone.
Now I have another annoyance. Somehow retailers have discovered my Blackberry Text Pager and I get LOTS of junk e-mail. It is impossible to "block" all of them, because eventually even your "spam" folder gets full and you cannot "block" any more addresses.
Is there a "Do Not Send E-Mail" Registry? I even get junk e-mails at work, and I do not use my work e-mail address for personal business if I can possibly avoid it. I even get junk e-mails for Viagra, Cialis, and penis enlargment. I wonder if the guys get junk e-mails for breast implants...!?
What about those friendly letters and/or calls which invite you to call a "wellness hotline" for whatever health plan you have? They invite you to "discuss" any health concerns you may have, whether it is weight control, proper usage of prescriptions, etc. They never provide alternatives like an e-mail address!!
I recently contacted a web site to put a stop to the junk mail. I get so much of it, I recycle all the catalogs, letters, newspapers, which I take to a recycling site. One sack weighed 50 pounds, and that was just for this past WEEK. I finally said ENOUGH. I realize the U.S. Postal Service is hanging by a thread and continuing to mail LOTS of junk mail. However, I just don't feel like subsidizing the U.S. Postal Service! What a waste of paper!
Monday, September 13, 2010
September 13, 2010 - Terminology - Deaf vs. Hearing-Impaired
A deaf friend from my deaf school days e-mailed me today. He pointed out, correctly, that the term "hearing-impaired" is today, viewed as offensive. "Hearing-impaired" was a politically correct term when referring to hard of hearing and deaf individuals. Today, the word "Deaf" is perfectly acceptable. I wasn't offended. I completely understood where my friend was coming from.
However, I am the only deaf person in my family. My nieces and nephews are hearing. When one of my nephews was five, his mother, my older sister, came to visit, bringing her five year old son with her. My sister asked me if I would baby sit while she had dinner with friends one night. I said sure. My nephew and I were sitting at the kitchen table in my home, when he said, " Aunt Mindy, what can WE do to fix your ears"? I was stunned into silence, absolutely FLOORED that my nephew understood Aunt Mindy was somehow different. He was perfectly serious. I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts, wondering how do I explain DEAF to a hearing five year old. You don't.
I told my then five year old nephew, that Aunt Mindy's ears were broken, just like his mother's tummy was broken. My nephew has known all his life that he is adopted, and that his mother could not have a baby in her tummy like his birth mother had him in her tummy. A five year old would understand the concept of broken ears because at that age, he or she understands a broken toy. The broken toy doesn't work. I then explained to my nephew that Aunt Mindy wore hearing aids to help her hear, like his mother wore glasses and contact lenses to see. I took off one of my behind the ear hearing aids and showed him what the hearing aid did. My nephew seemed satisfied.
Later, when my sister came home and her son had long been tucked into bed by his Aunt Mindy, I told my sister what her son had said at the kitchen table. It threw her for a loop. She was as surprised as I had been.
My usage of the term "hearing-impaired" while using my CapTel phone to talk to Triple A about my battery situation the other day was quite deliberate. Hearing Society, when someone identifies themselves as Deaf, 95% of the time will automatically assume the Deaf person signs. I also have discovered that if I identify myself as Deaf while using the CapTel phone to clue me into what is being said, that person will raise his or her voice, making the speech discrimination for me worse. Yelling is useless. I don't sign because my family is hearing and they don't sign either.
Quite often, when my mother and I would go out together, and use a public bathroom, she would still be talking to me behind a closed bathroom stall. I of course, heard her talking but assumed she was talking to someone else in the bathroom.. She would come out, chuckle, and say, "Mindy, I forget you are deaf." My co-workers do the same thing to me and then apologize. I tell them my own mother would forget I was deaf.
I am equally comfortable among other deaf people even though I don't sign. We still communicate. We text each other. Write each other notes. Sign hello, nod, etc. I still live and work in a hearing world. I would hope that most hearing people are comfortable around me, but I am beyond the age where I need acceptance. I've been on this earth a good while, so I am not going to be emotionally shattered if a hearing person rejects me for whatever reason. I am very comfortable with who I am and yes, I "found myself" a long time ago. Been there. Done that.
That wasn't always the case. As a deaf teenager and frequently the only deaf person in my mainstreamed classroom, I hated being different than my hearing peers. No self respecting teenager wants to be different than his or her peers, deaf or not. I have never had an issue with being deaf, as I have been deaf most of my life. What I have had issues with, is how society deals with it. I consider myself deaf. I make sure my doctors and specialists know I am deaf.
If a hearing person identifies me as "hearing impaired" in the course of a conversation, I usually let it go. Most of Hearing Society identifies Deaf people as using sign language, which is totally inaccurate. Not all Deaf people sign. I am convinced, though, that the day will come when cochlear implants are as commonplace as open heart surgery, and affordable. I think it is going to take a couple of generations of cochlear-implanted babies, who grow into adulthood, to be 100% accepted as part of society.
To Hearing Society, I am what deaf culture would refer to as a "high functioning deafie." That's the truth. To a hearing person, they very often know there is something different about me but can't quite figure it out. I actually once stood in an elevator at my office building, and said, "Good Morning," to someone who asked me to hold the elevator door open for him. Looking at me, the gentleman said, "I can't quite place your accent, are you from Texas"? I said no, I'm actually from somewhere else and identified where I was from. Later, when I got home that night, I e-mailed some friends in Texas and told them about the morning episode in the elevator. They really got a kick out of that, as there is absolutely nothing resembling Texas about me!
However, I am the only deaf person in my family. My nieces and nephews are hearing. When one of my nephews was five, his mother, my older sister, came to visit, bringing her five year old son with her. My sister asked me if I would baby sit while she had dinner with friends one night. I said sure. My nephew and I were sitting at the kitchen table in my home, when he said, " Aunt Mindy, what can WE do to fix your ears"? I was stunned into silence, absolutely FLOORED that my nephew understood Aunt Mindy was somehow different. He was perfectly serious. I took a deep breath and collected my thoughts, wondering how do I explain DEAF to a hearing five year old. You don't.
I told my then five year old nephew, that Aunt Mindy's ears were broken, just like his mother's tummy was broken. My nephew has known all his life that he is adopted, and that his mother could not have a baby in her tummy like his birth mother had him in her tummy. A five year old would understand the concept of broken ears because at that age, he or she understands a broken toy. The broken toy doesn't work. I then explained to my nephew that Aunt Mindy wore hearing aids to help her hear, like his mother wore glasses and contact lenses to see. I took off one of my behind the ear hearing aids and showed him what the hearing aid did. My nephew seemed satisfied.
Later, when my sister came home and her son had long been tucked into bed by his Aunt Mindy, I told my sister what her son had said at the kitchen table. It threw her for a loop. She was as surprised as I had been.
My usage of the term "hearing-impaired" while using my CapTel phone to talk to Triple A about my battery situation the other day was quite deliberate. Hearing Society, when someone identifies themselves as Deaf, 95% of the time will automatically assume the Deaf person signs. I also have discovered that if I identify myself as Deaf while using the CapTel phone to clue me into what is being said, that person will raise his or her voice, making the speech discrimination for me worse. Yelling is useless. I don't sign because my family is hearing and they don't sign either.
Quite often, when my mother and I would go out together, and use a public bathroom, she would still be talking to me behind a closed bathroom stall. I of course, heard her talking but assumed she was talking to someone else in the bathroom.. She would come out, chuckle, and say, "Mindy, I forget you are deaf." My co-workers do the same thing to me and then apologize. I tell them my own mother would forget I was deaf.
I am equally comfortable among other deaf people even though I don't sign. We still communicate. We text each other. Write each other notes. Sign hello, nod, etc. I still live and work in a hearing world. I would hope that most hearing people are comfortable around me, but I am beyond the age where I need acceptance. I've been on this earth a good while, so I am not going to be emotionally shattered if a hearing person rejects me for whatever reason. I am very comfortable with who I am and yes, I "found myself" a long time ago. Been there. Done that.
That wasn't always the case. As a deaf teenager and frequently the only deaf person in my mainstreamed classroom, I hated being different than my hearing peers. No self respecting teenager wants to be different than his or her peers, deaf or not. I have never had an issue with being deaf, as I have been deaf most of my life. What I have had issues with, is how society deals with it. I consider myself deaf. I make sure my doctors and specialists know I am deaf.
If a hearing person identifies me as "hearing impaired" in the course of a conversation, I usually let it go. Most of Hearing Society identifies Deaf people as using sign language, which is totally inaccurate. Not all Deaf people sign. I am convinced, though, that the day will come when cochlear implants are as commonplace as open heart surgery, and affordable. I think it is going to take a couple of generations of cochlear-implanted babies, who grow into adulthood, to be 100% accepted as part of society.
To Hearing Society, I am what deaf culture would refer to as a "high functioning deafie." That's the truth. To a hearing person, they very often know there is something different about me but can't quite figure it out. I actually once stood in an elevator at my office building, and said, "Good Morning," to someone who asked me to hold the elevator door open for him. Looking at me, the gentleman said, "I can't quite place your accent, are you from Texas"? I said no, I'm actually from somewhere else and identified where I was from. Later, when I got home that night, I e-mailed some friends in Texas and told them about the morning episode in the elevator. They really got a kick out of that, as there is absolutely nothing resembling Texas about me!
Sunday, September 12, 2010
Communication Issues, Sunday, September 12, 2010
Well, I went out to the car this morning, and the car again did not start. I absolutely, positively HAVE to be at work tomorrow. I belong to Triple A, so I went on-line to see what options I had. Much to my delight, I discovered Triple A has a mobile battery service. They will come out to your house, or wherever you are, test the old battery, remove it, and install a new one. I thought that was a better deal than having the car towed, taken to the dealership, having the car looked at, only to discover it was just the battery and using up leave. I was 99.9% sure it was the battery, because it was the original car battery. I also had the car serviced recently, and I had asked specifically about the battery, did it need to be replaced. They said no, the battery was okay, it just needed cleaning.
Well, a month and a half later after having the car serviced at the dealership, the battery dies on me. That original car battery lasted just past six years, so yeah, I was pushing it.
I called Triple A, using my CapTel phone, and explained the situation. They said yes indeed they could send someone WITHIN THE HOUR. They asked for my cell phone number, and I said I am hearing impaired and cannot hear on a cell phone. I gave them my landline phone number.
The phone rang when I had my back turned, and I could hear the answering machine talking. I looked on my Caller ID and saw it was a wireless caller. I said that's probably Triple A, and I called the number. It was indeed the Triple A contractor and he said he was right outside. I didn't see his truck pull up because of my crape myrtle tree. I said I am glad you are here, I'll be right outside. I grabbed my car keys, my Triple A card , a credit card and met him outside.
I explained the problem and he had no problems understanding me. He proceeded to test the battery, and sure enough, it was the battery. He removed the old battery, got a new battery from the truck, and installed the new battery for me. I filled out all the information on the clipboard and he took my credit card information down and called it in. $121.00 later, he got inside the car, turned the key, and the car started immediately. Problem solved.
Well, that started me thinking about communication issues. This is a hearing world. If there ever was an argument for oral education, spoken speech and a cochlear implant, my car battery situation is a perfect example.
What do deaf people do whose first language is ASL (American Sign Language)? My guess is, they get a pencil and paper, get a hearing neighbor, a hearing spouse, or hearing kids to speak for them. Whoever interprets, still has to know ASL.
A family friend, who is originally from South America and has been in this country for decades, said when she came to the United States with her husband, she went to college with my mother. The friend pointed out that she still had to learn English - and to be fluent in the language so that she didn't have to rely on an interpreter to translate from Spanish into English. My mother helped her with English, the friend in turn helped my mother with physics.
I have no objection to Sign Language providing one's first language is English. I recognize basic signs. I failed miserably at fingerspelling. I am not fluent in ASL. I got a C in Sign Language in college, which greatly amused my parents.
There are also deaf people who are lousy lipreaders and are not able to speak English coherently. I recognize that. For those individuals, ASL is probably the better option for them.
An oral education, speech and lip-reading definitely puts you on a better playing field with hearing people. I also noticed that a lot of deaf individuals who come from deaf families or whose first language is ASL have had problems either getting jobs or staying employed. The same has sadly been true of some oral deaf adults due to the terrible recession we are in. No one is immune.
Look at the job announcements. Most all of them require literacy, being able to speak orally, and to communicate effectively in writing.
Employers have complained that while deaf people may have college degrees, there are those who cannot compose a literate sentence or e-mail. Hearing Society feels that traditional deaf schools have failed a lot of deaf people and rendered graduates who are virtually unemployable. There are some deaf people who feel that traditional deaf schools have also failed them.
I read a comment recently some months ago from someone who posted a comment online on CNN. He was someone whose first language was ASL, and had been employed as in a technical position with a phone company. He complained about not being able to find employment after having been laid off. When I read his posting, it was easy for me to understand why. He was functionally illiterate and his command of the English language was terrible. He complained that his disability payments were inadequate to support himself and his family. I'm quite sure he was having a hard time.
If one wanted to sign that he or she was going to the store, the ASL translation would literally be "I Store." Here's a clue: If you see someone posting something like,"It wonderful," that person's first language is probably ASL, and that person is probably from a deaf community or deaf family.
I realize that not every deaf person has had the lucky breaks that I have had. I was really fortunate that my deafness was diagnosed early, that my parents sent me to a private school for the deaf in order to speak and lip-read, I was mainstreamed successfully into public schools, that I was able to use hearing aids for as long as I have. I was also blessed in that I don't remember my life before becoming deaf, I was so young. How traumatic for a hearing adult to lose one's hearing suddenly.
We still have to ensure that cochlear implants are an affordable option for those who want it. The cochlear implant companies will work with you to find sources of financing to afford a cochlear implant.
I am a person who just happens to be deaf. My deafness is a part of me, but it has never defined who I am. When Gallaudet University let go a woman named Jane Fernandez who had applied for candidacy for President of the University, there were sadly some deaf individuals who made her life miserable, saying that she signed like a three year old. I felt so badly for her. There were even people who said Jane was not "deaf enough." Enough said.
30 more days until surgery. Wow. So much to do and so little time.
Well, a month and a half later after having the car serviced at the dealership, the battery dies on me. That original car battery lasted just past six years, so yeah, I was pushing it.
I called Triple A, using my CapTel phone, and explained the situation. They said yes indeed they could send someone WITHIN THE HOUR. They asked for my cell phone number, and I said I am hearing impaired and cannot hear on a cell phone. I gave them my landline phone number.
The phone rang when I had my back turned, and I could hear the answering machine talking. I looked on my Caller ID and saw it was a wireless caller. I said that's probably Triple A, and I called the number. It was indeed the Triple A contractor and he said he was right outside. I didn't see his truck pull up because of my crape myrtle tree. I said I am glad you are here, I'll be right outside. I grabbed my car keys, my Triple A card , a credit card and met him outside.
I explained the problem and he had no problems understanding me. He proceeded to test the battery, and sure enough, it was the battery. He removed the old battery, got a new battery from the truck, and installed the new battery for me. I filled out all the information on the clipboard and he took my credit card information down and called it in. $121.00 later, he got inside the car, turned the key, and the car started immediately. Problem solved.
Well, that started me thinking about communication issues. This is a hearing world. If there ever was an argument for oral education, spoken speech and a cochlear implant, my car battery situation is a perfect example.
What do deaf people do whose first language is ASL (American Sign Language)? My guess is, they get a pencil and paper, get a hearing neighbor, a hearing spouse, or hearing kids to speak for them. Whoever interprets, still has to know ASL.
A family friend, who is originally from South America and has been in this country for decades, said when she came to the United States with her husband, she went to college with my mother. The friend pointed out that she still had to learn English - and to be fluent in the language so that she didn't have to rely on an interpreter to translate from Spanish into English. My mother helped her with English, the friend in turn helped my mother with physics.
I have no objection to Sign Language providing one's first language is English. I recognize basic signs. I failed miserably at fingerspelling. I am not fluent in ASL. I got a C in Sign Language in college, which greatly amused my parents.
There are also deaf people who are lousy lipreaders and are not able to speak English coherently. I recognize that. For those individuals, ASL is probably the better option for them.
An oral education, speech and lip-reading definitely puts you on a better playing field with hearing people. I also noticed that a lot of deaf individuals who come from deaf families or whose first language is ASL have had problems either getting jobs or staying employed. The same has sadly been true of some oral deaf adults due to the terrible recession we are in. No one is immune.
Look at the job announcements. Most all of them require literacy, being able to speak orally, and to communicate effectively in writing.
Employers have complained that while deaf people may have college degrees, there are those who cannot compose a literate sentence or e-mail. Hearing Society feels that traditional deaf schools have failed a lot of deaf people and rendered graduates who are virtually unemployable. There are some deaf people who feel that traditional deaf schools have also failed them.
I read a comment recently some months ago from someone who posted a comment online on CNN. He was someone whose first language was ASL, and had been employed as in a technical position with a phone company. He complained about not being able to find employment after having been laid off. When I read his posting, it was easy for me to understand why. He was functionally illiterate and his command of the English language was terrible. He complained that his disability payments were inadequate to support himself and his family. I'm quite sure he was having a hard time.
If one wanted to sign that he or she was going to the store, the ASL translation would literally be "I Store." Here's a clue: If you see someone posting something like,"It wonderful," that person's first language is probably ASL, and that person is probably from a deaf community or deaf family.
I realize that not every deaf person has had the lucky breaks that I have had. I was really fortunate that my deafness was diagnosed early, that my parents sent me to a private school for the deaf in order to speak and lip-read, I was mainstreamed successfully into public schools, that I was able to use hearing aids for as long as I have. I was also blessed in that I don't remember my life before becoming deaf, I was so young. How traumatic for a hearing adult to lose one's hearing suddenly.
We still have to ensure that cochlear implants are an affordable option for those who want it. The cochlear implant companies will work with you to find sources of financing to afford a cochlear implant.
I am a person who just happens to be deaf. My deafness is a part of me, but it has never defined who I am. When Gallaudet University let go a woman named Jane Fernandez who had applied for candidacy for President of the University, there were sadly some deaf individuals who made her life miserable, saying that she signed like a three year old. I felt so badly for her. There were even people who said Jane was not "deaf enough." Enough said.
30 more days until surgery. Wow. So much to do and so little time.
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Where I was on 9-11
Today is that awful anniversary of 9-11. Being deaf, it presented some challenges that day. I was in my office when the first plane struck the first tower. I walked into my supervisor's office and she had the tv on, and it wasn't captioned. A group of employees were gathered around the television, and someone said a plane had crashed into the tower.
Stupidly, the first thought that occurred to me, was that someone at the FAA was in big trouble. It did not sink right away in that it was a terrorist attack. I went back to my office. Then my blackberry pager vibrated. It was my mother, The text read, "Get the Hell out of Dodge, there are fires...".
I walked back into my office, muttering, what fires? and texted her back, saying I'm fine, there are no fires, I'm fine. Then the blackberry text pager quit working. I thought maybe I had a bad battery in the pager. Back then, I had a blackberry text pager that ran on a single AA battery. The pager was manufactured by WyndTell for GoAmerica.
My mother had driven long distance from home (she had recently moved elsewhere to be near my younger sister and some of my nieces and nephews) that day to visit relatives and I had teased her in an e-mail before the trip, saying, why don't you just take a plane? My mother said no, she enjoyed driving.
I went back to my supervisor's office, where she had hung up the phone in shock. She said we are evacuating the building and are to go home. Just then the security guards ran down the hallway, pounding on doors, saying, evacuate, evacuate. Well, I live 24 miles away from my office downtown, and had no way home as I take public transit. My supervisor gave me and another co-worker a ride back to suburbia that day. It was absolutely surreal. There were traffic jams everywhere, and it took me nearly two hours to get home. During the car trip with my supervisor and my co-worker, my co-worker was telling me what the radio was saying, which at the time wasn't accurate. It was one-thirty by the time I reached my home. The light on the Caller ID was blinking. I saw that my sisters had called, my other relatives had called. I turned on the TTY and dialed the TTY (this was before CapTel) and the relay operator came on and said please limit your calls to five minutes each, this is a national emergency, so I must limit your calls. I said okay, I just want to tell my family I am okay. I first called my supervisor and told her I got home safely. She said, Mindy, thank you so much for calling, I am so glad you got home safely. I next called my relatives and said I was safe and at home. They were relieved. I fixed myself a sandwich, got a drink, and turned on the television to watch the news, which was captioned.
A day later, when my mother e-mailed me, I said to her, I will never make fun of you again for not taking a plane to visit your aunt and your sister. I am so glad you did not fly anywere. I thought of my father, and was thankful that he did not live to see this horrible tragedy. He died 24 years ago. He had a heart ailment and died in his sleep.
I went back to work the next day, and continued to go to work until that weekend. I refused to be scared, but looking back, I was scared after all. I was so jumpy and jittery. Everytime someone dropped a box on the floor or I would see a cardboard box, I got nervous.
Even today, emergency evacuations for disabled people in office buildings are not perfect. My organization is supposed to text my pager when the fire alarm goes off. That hasn't happened. The deal is, my co-workers alert me. The people in my corridor know I am deaf, so they are pretty good about making sure I am out of the building when the fire alarm goes off.
I will still depend on some kind of visual alerting system after I get the cochlear implant and have it activated. I am getting a wireless one that runs on rechargeable batteries so I don't have to worry about power failures in case of a bad thunderstorm.
Stupidly, the first thought that occurred to me, was that someone at the FAA was in big trouble. It did not sink right away in that it was a terrorist attack. I went back to my office. Then my blackberry pager vibrated. It was my mother, The text read, "Get the Hell out of Dodge, there are fires...".
I walked back into my office, muttering, what fires? and texted her back, saying I'm fine, there are no fires, I'm fine. Then the blackberry text pager quit working. I thought maybe I had a bad battery in the pager. Back then, I had a blackberry text pager that ran on a single AA battery. The pager was manufactured by WyndTell for GoAmerica.
My mother had driven long distance from home (she had recently moved elsewhere to be near my younger sister and some of my nieces and nephews) that day to visit relatives and I had teased her in an e-mail before the trip, saying, why don't you just take a plane? My mother said no, she enjoyed driving.
I went back to my supervisor's office, where she had hung up the phone in shock. She said we are evacuating the building and are to go home. Just then the security guards ran down the hallway, pounding on doors, saying, evacuate, evacuate. Well, I live 24 miles away from my office downtown, and had no way home as I take public transit. My supervisor gave me and another co-worker a ride back to suburbia that day. It was absolutely surreal. There were traffic jams everywhere, and it took me nearly two hours to get home. During the car trip with my supervisor and my co-worker, my co-worker was telling me what the radio was saying, which at the time wasn't accurate. It was one-thirty by the time I reached my home. The light on the Caller ID was blinking. I saw that my sisters had called, my other relatives had called. I turned on the TTY and dialed the TTY (this was before CapTel) and the relay operator came on and said please limit your calls to five minutes each, this is a national emergency, so I must limit your calls. I said okay, I just want to tell my family I am okay. I first called my supervisor and told her I got home safely. She said, Mindy, thank you so much for calling, I am so glad you got home safely. I next called my relatives and said I was safe and at home. They were relieved. I fixed myself a sandwich, got a drink, and turned on the television to watch the news, which was captioned.
A day later, when my mother e-mailed me, I said to her, I will never make fun of you again for not taking a plane to visit your aunt and your sister. I am so glad you did not fly anywere. I thought of my father, and was thankful that he did not live to see this horrible tragedy. He died 24 years ago. He had a heart ailment and died in his sleep.
I went back to work the next day, and continued to go to work until that weekend. I refused to be scared, but looking back, I was scared after all. I was so jumpy and jittery. Everytime someone dropped a box on the floor or I would see a cardboard box, I got nervous.
Even today, emergency evacuations for disabled people in office buildings are not perfect. My organization is supposed to text my pager when the fire alarm goes off. That hasn't happened. The deal is, my co-workers alert me. The people in my corridor know I am deaf, so they are pretty good about making sure I am out of the building when the fire alarm goes off.
I will still depend on some kind of visual alerting system after I get the cochlear implant and have it activated. I am getting a wireless one that runs on rechargeable batteries so I don't have to worry about power failures in case of a bad thunderstorm.
A little history
I realized I needed to back track a little. I got my hearing tested in April and again in August. I had suspected further hearing loss, but was stunned to discover just how bad it was. I have reached the point where I depend totally on visual cues as well as sound from my hearing aids in order to understand speech coherently. I test within the physical limits of the audiometer.
In August, when I had my hearing tested at the hospital where I am having the surgery, I was absolutely stunned to discover that I did not understand speech at all without any visual cues. When using a telephone, I use CapTel. I depend totally on my CapTel phone to clue me in. I only have one dedicated line - so if someone calls me, I wait until that caller leaves a message on the answering machine. If they don't, I don't return the call. I have discovered that usually it is a wrong number or a solicitation from a business. The only reason I have a landline phone at all is in case of an emergency. I was surprised to discover that some of these voice over internet phone services or what we call VOIP - don't always instantly connect with a 911 Center.
Most of my family and friends know to either text me or e-mail me. The tinnitus is really bad. It is constant - I have had it since I was a teenager. I have long since learned to tune it out.
I was so amused the other day to read of teenagers texting instead of using a voice phone. The adults have to text their kids in order to contact them. My blackberry, which was configured for deaf users, is my lifeline. So is the computer. I even have a laptop in case the main computer crashes. I have one of those all in one computers. I like it a lot.
I guess I am in vogue now - all I do IS text. One thing I DON'T do is text and drive. WAY too dangerous. The blackberry stays in my purse when I am driving. If I know that someone is going to text me at a certain time about something important, I will pull into a parking lot or somewhere safe when I can answer. I hope that over time, I will be able to use a cell phone and/or talk into a landline phone without captions or volume control.
When I am at a doctor's office or doing business with someone, I have to explain to them that I do not have a cell phone and am too deaf to use one, but that they can leave a voice message on my land line phone. All I have to do is call CAPTEL and they will listen to the voice message and caption it for me. The landline phone is for the convenience of hearing people anyway. If I could be 100% assured of reaching 911 with my wireless blackberry in a true emergency, I'd get rid of the landline phone in a heartbeat. That idiot landline phone bill costs more a month than my wireless blackberry bill! I'm tempted. I'd save $1,188.00 a year just by eliminating that phone.
In August, when I had my hearing tested at the hospital where I am having the surgery, I was absolutely stunned to discover that I did not understand speech at all without any visual cues. When using a telephone, I use CapTel. I depend totally on my CapTel phone to clue me in. I only have one dedicated line - so if someone calls me, I wait until that caller leaves a message on the answering machine. If they don't, I don't return the call. I have discovered that usually it is a wrong number or a solicitation from a business. The only reason I have a landline phone at all is in case of an emergency. I was surprised to discover that some of these voice over internet phone services or what we call VOIP - don't always instantly connect with a 911 Center.
Most of my family and friends know to either text me or e-mail me. The tinnitus is really bad. It is constant - I have had it since I was a teenager. I have long since learned to tune it out.
I was so amused the other day to read of teenagers texting instead of using a voice phone. The adults have to text their kids in order to contact them. My blackberry, which was configured for deaf users, is my lifeline. So is the computer. I even have a laptop in case the main computer crashes. I have one of those all in one computers. I like it a lot.
I guess I am in vogue now - all I do IS text. One thing I DON'T do is text and drive. WAY too dangerous. The blackberry stays in my purse when I am driving. If I know that someone is going to text me at a certain time about something important, I will pull into a parking lot or somewhere safe when I can answer. I hope that over time, I will be able to use a cell phone and/or talk into a landline phone without captions or volume control.
When I am at a doctor's office or doing business with someone, I have to explain to them that I do not have a cell phone and am too deaf to use one, but that they can leave a voice message on my land line phone. All I have to do is call CAPTEL and they will listen to the voice message and caption it for me. The landline phone is for the convenience of hearing people anyway. If I could be 100% assured of reaching 911 with my wireless blackberry in a true emergency, I'd get rid of the landline phone in a heartbeat. That idiot landline phone bill costs more a month than my wireless blackberry bill! I'm tempted. I'd save $1,188.00 a year just by eliminating that phone.
Just today- I was reminded of the limitations of being deaf
I was running errands most of the day and my last stop - wouldn't you know it, was the grocery store. Inside the grocery store, I nearly backed into someone I didn't see. I apologized. He was a good sport about that. Well after buying groceries that had to be refrigerated, my car wouldn't start. I knew the battery was purchased in 2004 and I had just had the car serviced. The batteries last five years, so it may be time for a new one.
I knew texting Triple A was going to be a lost cause on a busy Saturday afternoon - and a warm day besides. Three earthly angels, one of who was my next door neighbor, gave me a jump and as we live a mile from the grocery store, getting home wasn't an issue. Thank God for that!
If the car doesn't start tomorrow morning, I know what I'll be doing on Monday morning, purchasing a new car battery.
Always invest in a good pair of jump cables and keep them in your car. I have one of those milk crate boxes in which I keep the jump cables in. The cheap ones are no good.
I have 31 days until the day of surgery. There is so much to be done before then.
I knew texting Triple A was going to be a lost cause on a busy Saturday afternoon - and a warm day besides. Three earthly angels, one of who was my next door neighbor, gave me a jump and as we live a mile from the grocery store, getting home wasn't an issue. Thank God for that!
If the car doesn't start tomorrow morning, I know what I'll be doing on Monday morning, purchasing a new car battery.
Always invest in a good pair of jump cables and keep them in your car. I have one of those milk crate boxes in which I keep the jump cables in. The cheap ones are no good.
I have 31 days until the day of surgery. There is so much to be done before then.
Friday, September 10, 2010
A Frustrating Day -September 10, 2010
Today was what folks in my office call Crazy Friday. It was just insanely busy. Being deaf, I never can be 100% sure if my interpretation of verbal and or written instructions are accurate. Did I understand what my supervisor said or meant, or did I interpret what I THOUGHT she said or meant?
98% of my job involves analytical thinking and writing. Did I understand the literal meaning of her instructions, verbally and written, or did she mean something else entirely? She is a new supervisor, so we are going through some growing pains. It is a lot like getting used to a new teacher, and learning her preferences for how she wants things done.
When I was in school, strengthening vocabulary, language skills were done on a daily basis. I even took first year Latin in order to understand the origins of the English word. Math was also challenging for me, as it is a whole new language, particularly Algebra. I had trouble understanding the concept of what x and y represented and what one did with an algebraic equation. I did better in science than I did in math.
College was a whole new challenge for me. It was a real "baptism by fire," time for me. I went to a university with hearing peers. Being formally educated doesn't necessarily mean brilliance or even possessing common sense.
In my freshman year, I took an undergraduate course called Environmental Biology. At mid-term, my grade in that class was a D. I went to the professor for help, a tenured PhD in Biology.
He said, "I noticed you don't take notes." I said, "that's correct, I don't take notes. The first day of class I introduced myself to you, explained I was deaf, read lips, spoke well, and explained that I would be using volunteers to take notes." I can't lipread you and take notes at the same time."
The professor replied, "Well, can't you use a tape recorder to record the lecture"? I said that's an impossible task for me." He said, "Well, I don't know how you can pass my class." I thanked him and sought help from the University's Special Education Department, who provided me with a graduate student who tutored me through the course. I raised that grade from a D to C and passed the class that semester.
I owe a debt that can never be repaid to those students who volunteered to take notes for me. After class, I would go back to the dormitory and write down what the professor said from memory. Then I would combine the two different sets of notes from two students in each class with my own notes. I was blessed. In my entire academic career, only two students absolutely refused to take notes for me.
I didn't have the words to tell my biology professor at that university that my deafness was so profound. Profoundly deaf means I have no hearing in the speech range of an audiogram, therefore, I technically could not understand speech. I relied on my hearing aids for sound and lipreading.
Here you had a tenured PhD, whose query about a tape recorder as an aid for a deaf student, told me in plain language that the man didn't have common sense worth a hill of beans. Fortunately for me, most of the professors at this university were eager to help me succeed.
Recently, I flashed on a memory of a job interview that I have never forgotten. The Americans With Disabilities Act had not been drafted nor was it law at the time. I interviewed for a entry level job for a position with an organization that shall remain nameless. The man who interviewed me clearly did not want to be there. His whole body screamed to me in body language, "I'm here because my boss told me I had to be here." He sat across from me. I even remember the suit.. He had on a conservative suit with a bow tie. He had both his hands folded on the table, both feet together and on the floor. He reminded me of a student on his first day at school.
I don't remember the questions he asked during the interview. I only remember I answered appropriately, and he seemed satisfied with the answers. I don't remember him taking notes at all. I recited all my selling points of why the organization should hire me, a recent college graduate of an accredited hearing university, with a bachelor's and master's degree in hand.
His final statement stunned me. "That's fine, Ms. Jane Doe, but what is it that you CAN'T do"?
I barely held myself together, I was so shocked. I replied, "I cannot use a telephone because I am deaf." His reply: "Oh, I see."
I don't even know what I would say to him if we ran into each other again one day. I am not angry. I am not hurt. I just have never forgotten the incident, it was such a powerful, stunning experience.
Deafness is normal for me. I have lived with it nearly all my life. Up until now, I've lived with the deafness just fine. That hasn't necessarily been the case for my family. Recently, an aunt shared with me a memory that makes her tear up to this day, it was a painful memory for her.
She recalled a 4th of July parade which she and my Uncle took me to see. I wasn't wearing hearing aids then. I may not have been diagnosed as being deaf at that period in time. I had to have been a toddler - barely two, as I was fitted with one hearing aid at age 2 1/2. My aunt said that when the percussion of the band instruments got really loud, I covered my face with my hands.
I would like to go back in time and experience that moment again in order to understand my reaction.
Did I cover my face because the band instruments didn't sound the way I remembered it, or did I cover my face in fear? We will never know, as I didn't have the language to tell my aunt and uncle what was the matter.
Thank goodness children are resilient. I don't seem to bear any psychic scars from that Fourth of July parade, so long ago. I thought it was precious that my aunt even remembered it. I thanked her for sharing that with me.
I wonder what sound flavorings band instruments will have for me post-implant? For some idiot reason, the mental picture of a bowl of gooey, sweet caramel keeps entering my mind when I think about "hearing" band instruments.
Caramel anything is a favorite of mine. I always did have a sweet tooth. Still do.
98% of my job involves analytical thinking and writing. Did I understand the literal meaning of her instructions, verbally and written, or did she mean something else entirely? She is a new supervisor, so we are going through some growing pains. It is a lot like getting used to a new teacher, and learning her preferences for how she wants things done.
When I was in school, strengthening vocabulary, language skills were done on a daily basis. I even took first year Latin in order to understand the origins of the English word. Math was also challenging for me, as it is a whole new language, particularly Algebra. I had trouble understanding the concept of what x and y represented and what one did with an algebraic equation. I did better in science than I did in math.
College was a whole new challenge for me. It was a real "baptism by fire," time for me. I went to a university with hearing peers. Being formally educated doesn't necessarily mean brilliance or even possessing common sense.
In my freshman year, I took an undergraduate course called Environmental Biology. At mid-term, my grade in that class was a D. I went to the professor for help, a tenured PhD in Biology.
He said, "I noticed you don't take notes." I said, "that's correct, I don't take notes. The first day of class I introduced myself to you, explained I was deaf, read lips, spoke well, and explained that I would be using volunteers to take notes." I can't lipread you and take notes at the same time."
The professor replied, "Well, can't you use a tape recorder to record the lecture"? I said that's an impossible task for me." He said, "Well, I don't know how you can pass my class." I thanked him and sought help from the University's Special Education Department, who provided me with a graduate student who tutored me through the course. I raised that grade from a D to C and passed the class that semester.
I owe a debt that can never be repaid to those students who volunteered to take notes for me. After class, I would go back to the dormitory and write down what the professor said from memory. Then I would combine the two different sets of notes from two students in each class with my own notes. I was blessed. In my entire academic career, only two students absolutely refused to take notes for me.
I didn't have the words to tell my biology professor at that university that my deafness was so profound. Profoundly deaf means I have no hearing in the speech range of an audiogram, therefore, I technically could not understand speech. I relied on my hearing aids for sound and lipreading.
Here you had a tenured PhD, whose query about a tape recorder as an aid for a deaf student, told me in plain language that the man didn't have common sense worth a hill of beans. Fortunately for me, most of the professors at this university were eager to help me succeed.
Recently, I flashed on a memory of a job interview that I have never forgotten. The Americans With Disabilities Act had not been drafted nor was it law at the time. I interviewed for a entry level job for a position with an organization that shall remain nameless. The man who interviewed me clearly did not want to be there. His whole body screamed to me in body language, "I'm here because my boss told me I had to be here." He sat across from me. I even remember the suit.. He had on a conservative suit with a bow tie. He had both his hands folded on the table, both feet together and on the floor. He reminded me of a student on his first day at school.
I don't remember the questions he asked during the interview. I only remember I answered appropriately, and he seemed satisfied with the answers. I don't remember him taking notes at all. I recited all my selling points of why the organization should hire me, a recent college graduate of an accredited hearing university, with a bachelor's and master's degree in hand.
His final statement stunned me. "That's fine, Ms. Jane Doe, but what is it that you CAN'T do"?
I barely held myself together, I was so shocked. I replied, "I cannot use a telephone because I am deaf." His reply: "Oh, I see."
I don't even know what I would say to him if we ran into each other again one day. I am not angry. I am not hurt. I just have never forgotten the incident, it was such a powerful, stunning experience.
Deafness is normal for me. I have lived with it nearly all my life. Up until now, I've lived with the deafness just fine. That hasn't necessarily been the case for my family. Recently, an aunt shared with me a memory that makes her tear up to this day, it was a painful memory for her.
She recalled a 4th of July parade which she and my Uncle took me to see. I wasn't wearing hearing aids then. I may not have been diagnosed as being deaf at that period in time. I had to have been a toddler - barely two, as I was fitted with one hearing aid at age 2 1/2. My aunt said that when the percussion of the band instruments got really loud, I covered my face with my hands.
I would like to go back in time and experience that moment again in order to understand my reaction.
Did I cover my face because the band instruments didn't sound the way I remembered it, or did I cover my face in fear? We will never know, as I didn't have the language to tell my aunt and uncle what was the matter.
Thank goodness children are resilient. I don't seem to bear any psychic scars from that Fourth of July parade, so long ago. I thought it was precious that my aunt even remembered it. I thanked her for sharing that with me.
I wonder what sound flavorings band instruments will have for me post-implant? For some idiot reason, the mental picture of a bowl of gooey, sweet caramel keeps entering my mind when I think about "hearing" band instruments.
Caramel anything is a favorite of mine. I always did have a sweet tooth. Still do.
Thursday, September 9, 2010
Thursday, September 9, 2010
I have been thinking about my hearing deteriorating over time. I no longer "hear" people pushing grocery carts down the aisle, hidden from my view. I nearly collide with that customer, because I didn't "hear" him or her coming around the corner.
The same is true of my office building. I nearly collide with someone coming around the corner, because I cannot "hear" them walking down the hall. This happens whether or not the corridor is carpeted or not, and WITH my behind-the-ear hearing aids on.
I don't hear computers "powering up." I can't tell you how many starter motors in cars I have ruined or nearly ruined, because the engine was so quiet and I forget that the engine is running.
I feel the fax machine or the printer to see if it is indeed operating.
I still "startle" when someone comes into my office. I don't have eyes in the back of my head, so I often wonder if that person thinks I'm aloof, rude, or ignoring whoever came into the room.
Dogs have different barks. Cats have different meows. I cannot hear a cat meow at all unless it is caterwauling. I have to pet the cat or feel its body to "hear" the cat purr. My younger sister used to have this cat a few years ago that was getting on in years. The poor cat would get lost in the house and then you'd hear this undgodly noise that sounded to me, like a cross between a very loud meow combined with howling. Like this: Mrrrrrroooooowl. Mrrrrrrowwwwl. Once my sister or her husband located the cat and brought it into familar territory, only then would the cat calm down.
I wonder if meows and barks have different "flavors"? One wonders.
The same is true of my office building. I nearly collide with someone coming around the corner, because I cannot "hear" them walking down the hall. This happens whether or not the corridor is carpeted or not, and WITH my behind-the-ear hearing aids on.
I don't hear computers "powering up." I can't tell you how many starter motors in cars I have ruined or nearly ruined, because the engine was so quiet and I forget that the engine is running.
I feel the fax machine or the printer to see if it is indeed operating.
I still "startle" when someone comes into my office. I don't have eyes in the back of my head, so I often wonder if that person thinks I'm aloof, rude, or ignoring whoever came into the room.
Dogs have different barks. Cats have different meows. I cannot hear a cat meow at all unless it is caterwauling. I have to pet the cat or feel its body to "hear" the cat purr. My younger sister used to have this cat a few years ago that was getting on in years. The poor cat would get lost in the house and then you'd hear this undgodly noise that sounded to me, like a cross between a very loud meow combined with howling. Like this: Mrrrrrroooooowl. Mrrrrrrowwwwl. Once my sister or her husband located the cat and brought it into familar territory, only then would the cat calm down.
I wonder if meows and barks have different "flavors"? One wonders.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Labor Day Weekend, September 4-6, 2010
I went to a wedding this weekend. The wedding was an hour and a half away, and to get there, I had to drive through some winding, mini-mountainous roads - maybe about three miles of it. I started thinking of childhood and how I never got car sick or threw up on carnival rides. When I have had vertigo due to progressive hearing loss, I've gotten queasy but never actually threw up. I got seasick once when I was eight years old, but then again everybody on board the ship was seasick except for the crew. Funny what you remember.
In the past, I took Antivert for vertigo. It generally makes Hearing people sleepy. I never reacted that way to Antivert. Not at all.
Babies and small children probably recover quickly from cochlear implantation than adults. I was surprised to read that only 25,000 babies/children have been implanted with a cochlear implant in the United States. I think cochlear implants should be more affordable to families and a viable option for their child.
When I think back to my deaf school days, I am amazed that I was as successfully mainstreamed into a hearing world as I was. Don't get me wrong. Hearing Aids weren't "magical." It wasn't a scenario of fitting me with a hearing aid at two and a half and then "following the Yellow Brick Road" to success. I have learned more from my failures in this life than I have my successes. I appreciate my success and the small and big victories that much more. One caveat: I am NOT looking for a cochlear implant to "fix" my life, only to improve my quality of life. A cochlear implant doesn't CURE deafness. I will still have to take off the sound processor to bathe, shower, swim, and sleep. Who wants noise at night when you are trying to fall asleep anyway?
Do I take success for granted? No, because success can be so fleeting. God, there have been so many bumps along the way. Setbacks, even. Anybody who tells you "life is coming up roses," is lying. You know those yearly letters people send at Christmastime? Some of them read like a Norman Rockwell sort of fairytale. I appreciate those letters that keeps stuff real. What are friends for? You can't be "rah, rah, rah," all the time. I have friendships that have stood the test of time and people who have seen me at my absolute worst as well seeing me when I am happy.
I wasn't born yesterday. One of the gifts of being deaf, I think, is the ability to read people like a book. We are visually oriented. I can usually tell what kind of a mood somebody is in without that person even opening his or her mouth.
Will my ability to "read people," go away once I am implanted? I think that is one gift I'd like to keep.
In the past, I took Antivert for vertigo. It generally makes Hearing people sleepy. I never reacted that way to Antivert. Not at all.
Babies and small children probably recover quickly from cochlear implantation than adults. I was surprised to read that only 25,000 babies/children have been implanted with a cochlear implant in the United States. I think cochlear implants should be more affordable to families and a viable option for their child.
When I think back to my deaf school days, I am amazed that I was as successfully mainstreamed into a hearing world as I was. Don't get me wrong. Hearing Aids weren't "magical." It wasn't a scenario of fitting me with a hearing aid at two and a half and then "following the Yellow Brick Road" to success. I have learned more from my failures in this life than I have my successes. I appreciate my success and the small and big victories that much more. One caveat: I am NOT looking for a cochlear implant to "fix" my life, only to improve my quality of life. A cochlear implant doesn't CURE deafness. I will still have to take off the sound processor to bathe, shower, swim, and sleep. Who wants noise at night when you are trying to fall asleep anyway?
Do I take success for granted? No, because success can be so fleeting. God, there have been so many bumps along the way. Setbacks, even. Anybody who tells you "life is coming up roses," is lying. You know those yearly letters people send at Christmastime? Some of them read like a Norman Rockwell sort of fairytale. I appreciate those letters that keeps stuff real. What are friends for? You can't be "rah, rah, rah," all the time. I have friendships that have stood the test of time and people who have seen me at my absolute worst as well seeing me when I am happy.
I wasn't born yesterday. One of the gifts of being deaf, I think, is the ability to read people like a book. We are visually oriented. I can usually tell what kind of a mood somebody is in without that person even opening his or her mouth.
Will my ability to "read people," go away once I am implanted? I think that is one gift I'd like to keep.
Monday, September 6, 2010
I'm getting a cochlear implant this fall
I'm getting a cochlear implant this fall. I was deafened as a baby, and have been deaf most of my life. I am new at blogging. I have no idea what sounds I will hear post-implant. I think each sound has a "flavor," so I came up with soundflavoringsanew for my blog. This has been a long process, and one that I hope will improve my quality of life.
This probably won't be popular with the deaf community - I grew up in a hearing family and have both deaf and hearing friends.
I want to say to every parent of a deaf baby or child whose son or daughter is a candidate for a cochlear implant, that you are seriously compromising your child's future by declining this option.
A cochlear implant wasn't approved in the United States until 1985. When I was a baby, hearing aids were the only technology available. I went through YEARS of special education to learn to speak and lipread - successfully.
As I understand it, here's what hearing aids do: amplify sound.
A cochlear implant, through the miracle of technology, allows a child or an adult to "hear" by stimulating the cochlea, sending signals to the human brain which recognizes the signals as sound.
Think long and hard about this. Babies and young children have minds like a sponge and learn at astonishing speed. A baby or young child who is implanted with a cochlear implant isn't going to remember the trauma of surgery or what it was like not to hear at all BEFORE being implanted.
It is like having your tonsils out at age three, rather than having your tonsils out at 21. I still have my tonsils, so I realize this is a feeble attempt at an analogy.
It wasn't until two years ago that a cochlear implant was an affordable option for me.
Language and literacy are so important in today's job market. A cochlear implant, I think, would allow a baby and or a child to learn spoken language quickly, maybe even play a musical instrument or learn to sing.
The energy involved in "hearing" with hearing aids is now an exhausting experience for me.
i can no longer understand speech without any visual cues. Listening to the public address system when the fire alarm goes off in my office building, which I cannot hear either, sounds like a dog barking to my deaf ears.
I love to read. I always have. Books were my friends for the longest time. You read descriptive things like, "the pitter patter of rain against the window,"
What is "pitter patter"? I have no idea. For me, it would have to be hurricane, gale-force rain to "hear" rain.
People sometimes wonder why deaf people are such fans of heavy metal music or rock music. It is the percussion. It is the beat. It is the bass.
I love Coldplay's "Clocks," for that reason. And what about some of Beyonce's music? There is a lot of percussion there. And Michael Jackson. I still love "Beat It," and the Album of All Time, "Thriller."
My hearing friends always lip-synced the lyrics to the rock concerts. I didn't go to that many concerts when I was younger, because I couldn't always afford the tickets. I was so glad when the music industry finally printed lyrics to the records, CD's. I could appreciate music that much more.
I want to hear frogs croaking again, Crickets, even. Cicadas when I could hear them, years ago, were really loud. Can't hear them now either.
What is the buzz of a bee? The slithering of a snake? I would like to hear those sounds so I can get out of the way of danger.
More later. My stomach is protesting to be fed. What does a stomach growling with hunger sound like?
This probably won't be popular with the deaf community - I grew up in a hearing family and have both deaf and hearing friends.
I want to say to every parent of a deaf baby or child whose son or daughter is a candidate for a cochlear implant, that you are seriously compromising your child's future by declining this option.
A cochlear implant wasn't approved in the United States until 1985. When I was a baby, hearing aids were the only technology available. I went through YEARS of special education to learn to speak and lipread - successfully.
As I understand it, here's what hearing aids do: amplify sound.
A cochlear implant, through the miracle of technology, allows a child or an adult to "hear" by stimulating the cochlea, sending signals to the human brain which recognizes the signals as sound.
Think long and hard about this. Babies and young children have minds like a sponge and learn at astonishing speed. A baby or young child who is implanted with a cochlear implant isn't going to remember the trauma of surgery or what it was like not to hear at all BEFORE being implanted.
It is like having your tonsils out at age three, rather than having your tonsils out at 21. I still have my tonsils, so I realize this is a feeble attempt at an analogy.
It wasn't until two years ago that a cochlear implant was an affordable option for me.
Language and literacy are so important in today's job market. A cochlear implant, I think, would allow a baby and or a child to learn spoken language quickly, maybe even play a musical instrument or learn to sing.
The energy involved in "hearing" with hearing aids is now an exhausting experience for me.
i can no longer understand speech without any visual cues. Listening to the public address system when the fire alarm goes off in my office building, which I cannot hear either, sounds like a dog barking to my deaf ears.
I love to read. I always have. Books were my friends for the longest time. You read descriptive things like, "the pitter patter of rain against the window,"
What is "pitter patter"? I have no idea. For me, it would have to be hurricane, gale-force rain to "hear" rain.
People sometimes wonder why deaf people are such fans of heavy metal music or rock music. It is the percussion. It is the beat. It is the bass.
I love Coldplay's "Clocks," for that reason. And what about some of Beyonce's music? There is a lot of percussion there. And Michael Jackson. I still love "Beat It," and the Album of All Time, "Thriller."
My hearing friends always lip-synced the lyrics to the rock concerts. I didn't go to that many concerts when I was younger, because I couldn't always afford the tickets. I was so glad when the music industry finally printed lyrics to the records, CD's. I could appreciate music that much more.
I want to hear frogs croaking again, Crickets, even. Cicadas when I could hear them, years ago, were really loud. Can't hear them now either.
What is the buzz of a bee? The slithering of a snake? I would like to hear those sounds so I can get out of the way of danger.
More later. My stomach is protesting to be fed. What does a stomach growling with hunger sound like?
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