Another Milestone to Mark

I see that while I have been away, my little blog has reached a milestone: over 10,000 views. I began this blog mostly for myself -- a way of "thinking out loud" as I dealt with my sudden deafness and severe hearing loss. It's been insightful. And cathartic. And enlightening. It helps me remember how devastating it was to me, and how oddly resilient life is.

We learn. We adapt. We change. We compromise. We survive. We live.

Tomorrow, I will mark another milestone -- it's the one year anniversary of my new hearing life. It's the day my cochlear implant was activated. I had waited for the day with bated breath and great anticipation of a hearing miracle that would give me my life back. It was a miracle; it didn't really give me anything back. It was always within me -- that resiliency to make do and move on. My mother would call it stubbornness.

Instead, activation day simply thrust me forward into a different way of living -- much the same in many ways, yet surrealistically different than before. It's not always a smooth road. But that's what makes it incredible.

It's my life. My crazy, curiously odd, hearing-loss/cochlear implant life.

Thanks for being a part of it.

What's That Whistling Noise?

It only takes a minute to remind myself that there are still many sounds that I hear with my cochlear implant that bear little likeness to the "real" sounds they make.

Take, for instance, this morning. A sound unbeknownst to me occurred repeatedly as my husband and I were watching the morning news. As the news anchors were talking, I was inundated by the most annoying, noisy whistle. I couldn't tell if it was coming from the TV, from outside, or from my husband. And I couldn't even listen to the news anymore because I became so obsessed with that damn whistle! Curiosity not only killed the cat; it got the best of me.

"What's that whistling noise?" I finally asked. (And not so calmly at this point.)

The conversation that ensued is one that is all too familiar to me since my hearing loss.

"What noise?" my husband asked innocently.
"That whistling," I said again. "What's whistling?"
"I don't hear a whistle," he said.
"There! There it is again!" I said. "What is it?"
"Oh. That's the jingle bells on TV. Santa has bells on," he explained.
"Well, isn't that irritating," I commented. "Sounds like whistling." And we laughed.

Hearing is good, but it isn't perfect. This first Christmas with a cochlear implant is interesting and new.

There are no bells - or whistles - in my house this Christmas season. That's probably a good thing.

Merry Christmas, ya'll!

Be Patient and Gentle

I've read many humorous accounts of what NOT to say to deaf people on social media lately. They are rather funny in ways that those of us with hearing loss can chuckle at because it's a part of our daily experience. Some of the things people have said to me since I lost my hearing leave me scratching my head. A lot of people just don't understand. It doesn't bother me much. Most of them have no experience with hearing loss in their own circle of family and friends. I used to be one of those people.

These reads usually leave me musing about the times I've had similar situations, but I read a rather bitter (and angry) post this morning on one of the blogs I frequent. It set me back a bit, and I restrained from commenting, though my head was swimming with things I wanted to say to the author. There are so many myths and misconceptions that surround hearing loss that it's a bit difficult to navigate through them to find the truths. Even among the hard-of-hearing "long-timers",  facts are often blurred by personal experiences, and opinions differ from one person to the next. There is also a proud and strongly assertive culture in the Deaf and Hard-of-Hearing community ready to assert those thoughts and opinions. They take their identity very seriously. And sometimes they take offense when others ask those "annoying" questions.

I straddle the fence between the worlds of hearing and hard-of-hearing. Being late-deafened at the age of 51, I clearly identify more with the hearing world than not. Even now -- two years after losing my hearing and one year after receiving my cochlear implant -- I feel little likeness with online cochlear implant friends. Most have been hard-of-hearing for the larger part of their lives, so unlike me, navigating the hearing world is second nature to them. I still feel awkward and lost much of the time. But even with my hearing aid and cochlear implant, I'm not really a "hearing" person either. So I feel a growing distance from that world, as well.

Maybe it's because I haven't lived a lifetime of hearing the same comments or answering the same questions repeatedly that keeps me more lighthearted at others' curiosity. I'm not really offended by your questions or comments when asked innocently, but know that when your curiosity gets the better of you, and you do ask me those questions I deem silly because they are blurred by myth or misconception, I am secretly giggling and adding sarcastic addenda in my head:

1. You can still drive? Yes. I know you are concerned about horns and sirens, but my car is well equipped with mirrors, and emergency vehicles have lights. I can SEE the emergency vehicles before most people can hear them over their radios and iPods. And I don't give a rat's ass about the honkers. Blind people can't drive. Deaf people can drive. It's amazing, I know. Right?!
2. You don't sound deaf. No. And I don't sound German or French or Canadian either. The speech patterns I formed and practiced for a half-century did not disappear because I cannot hear you anymore.
3. My grandpa has hearing aids! Well, isn't that special?! Are you implying that I am old?!
4. Can you hear me now? Haha! That is just too funny for me to even reply...(sigh)
5. CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW? Yeah, because screaming at me always makes it better...(another sigh)
6. Are you lip-reading me? Yes. And I'm reading your mind, too... (eye roll)
7. So you know sign language now? Yes. Because when my ears stopped working, my hands automatically kicked in. Here's one I think you'll know... (hee hee hee)

Kidding aside, there is one thing I do take great offense to -- when people assume I am rude because I don't answer their question or respond back with a return "fine, and you?"

Remember that for those of us with hearing loss, seemingly simple things, like exchanging greetings, answering questions, or even conversing in noisy environments, are extremely difficult, and often impossible. We're doing the best we can.

Be patient and gentle with others this holiday season. The Muzak, cash registers, talking customers, babies crying, children whining, squeaky shopping cart wheels, snack bar blenders, demo TVs and stereos, loud phone talkers, PA announcements, appliance fans, automatic doors, security beeps, cell phone rings, cell phone talkers, text alert signals, Salvation Army bell ringers --- they are all terribly distracting and overwhelming to our senses. Please don't judge, and don't overreact too quickly. Realize that maybe there are a lot more people out there with hearing loss than you could even know.

Now there's a misconception I hope you'll avoid.