10 May
I have always been Deaf.
However a hearing aid has always benefitted me to an extent that I could communicate moderately easily with people, talk on the telephone once upon a time, hear my children shouting for my attention if they were nearby and even play and enjoy music. The hearing aid aided my lip-reading. Although I could often hear sounds, I rarely knew what they were unless I was facing the sound. I still relied on subtitles, I still relied on a lot of communication support when studying, but you know what? I think I did pretty well.
Without my hearing aid, I cannot hear anything. So what happens when even a hearing aid doesn’t give me anything?
If you read my last post (scared is not the word) then you’ll know that something has happened to my very precious right ear. All of a sudden, the hearing went and the Tinnitus started roaring.
I had hoped it was due to a sniffle. That sniffle came and went. I then hoped it was due to a blockage the audiologist found in there. That has now been cleared and there is no change. I’ve run out of ideas for why it might be temporary. Of course the hearing aid could be broken? I tried an old hearing aid and it was just the same.
I don’t know what happens next, but I have been thinking a lot about how life is going to change if this is indeed permanent.
The things you take for granted such as popping popcorn. I love popcorn, I often get the bags which you put in the microwave (salt overload, I know I know) and consider it a real treat to have some. I’ve always had to stand close to the microwave, to listen for when the pops were a second apart, and therefore the bag was ready to be opened. I had to listen very hard and sometimes they were a little bit scorched, but I could do it.
I tried to make myself some popcorn last night while my husband was out at a show. I kept my hand on the microwave as I couldn’t hear the pops, feeling for the little thuds of the kennels popping. But the little thuds are little. They’re not very strong, so when I thought it was done, the thuds were a second apart, turned out I had a lot of spare kennels in the bottom of the bag and only three quarters of a bowl full of popcorn.
And talking of my husband being out. I couldn’t find the baby monitor. The baby is a toddler now, the monitor was packed away in a bit of a decluttering panic I had a few weeks ago. I don’t know where it is, do you? But it did mean that I was a bit stuck for a device to let me know whether the small one had woken up, she doesn’t normally, but you can’t be too careful can you? Once she was sleeping through, I didn’t need the monitor anymore if my husband was on a very rare evening out. I could just sit on the computer doing my photography work, with no telly on, hearing aid on the loudest setting and all the doors open and if she woke, she’d shout so loud that I could often work out a noise was coming from upstairs. My house is tiny and the computer is right by our stairs.
Without the hearing aid, what do I do? I ended up camping out in my bedroom with the telly and my husband’s netbook and checking on her every 10-15 mins. Not the most relaxing way an evening, but at least it didn’t take long each time I checked her.
There have been two big issues with this whole not-hearing-anything-at-all situation. My children, and work.
My big one has been so sweet, she has picked up her signing remarkably well, remembering all that she’s learnt in the last 4 years and improvising for signs she doesn’t know. She behaved impeccably whilst I was with the nurse this morning, sitting on a chair quietly and did not move an inch. I told her how proud I was of her, and she gave me the biggest smile that would melt the coldest of hearts. My youngest doesn’t understand, but helps by being the most affectionate and cutest 15 month old you’ll ever know. It has been so hard, taking them out and about, crossing roads and having to be extra careful of looking out for cars. Being extra alert in the supermarket, asking Alice to listen out for the smoke alarm when I burnt the sausages amongst many other things. I am so worried that I’m going to become a bit of a social recluse as well, as already, I am preferring to keep to myself when there is more than two other people in the room. Its not personal, I’m just finding it too hard to follow. I am truly very blessed to have the most wonderful children, anyone could ask for, I hope I can find a way around this, and make sure they don’t miss out.
I am going to talk about work in another post. As I fear this is getting too long and talking about work, may even deserve its own post altogether. I also need to take a break and take my girls to buy some cake. I think Victoria sponge.
Before I go, I’d like to say a HUGE thank you to my wonderful Mum. Along with my fantastic husband, and the wonderful support I’ve had from other immediate family members such as Dollar, Hannah, Dad and Ailsa and my lovely inlaws not forgetting my lovely friends, online and off and of course colleagues, my Mum has been utterly fabulous during the last couple of weeks. Heck, she’s utterly fabulous all of the time, but has particularly been so in recent times. I think my Mum understands my ears better than even I do 🙂 Mum – I understand that my blog can sometimes be hard to read, if it was one of my own daughters writing such emotional posts, I would be the same. Thank you for everything xx
3 Responses for "A life of complete silence"
I can understand how frustrating and how frightening it can be. My hearing has gone downhill in the last 3 months. From having been “normal” it is now to the point that I can’t understand someone if they walk out of the room and are talking to me. Particularly if there is any form of background noise. I’m scared. In fact, scared doesn’t cover it.
So, if you want to meet for a coffee sometime, I promise to look at you when I am talking, and I’ll bring a notepad and pen if all else fails, and I can even bring a small, 19-month old hooligan to beguile (read: corrupt) your lovely girls. 😉
Thanks for being so honest in your blog. I have no connections to the deaf community, and it looks like I will be a member of it in a few years if things continue in the same way they have been. This blog has made me see that being deaf means that I won’t end up friendless, and alone, and be a rubbish Mum to my growing boy. You are living proof that you can seize life with everything you’ve got, and make a bloody good job of it too, no matter whether you can hear it or not. You’re a fab Mum, with lovely kids, and so much more talent in your little finger than a lot of people have in their whole body.
In short, you’ve proved that life as a deaf person needn’t be a “deaf sentence” (to the non-hearing people reading this, the local accent where I live pronounces the /th/ sound as /f/, so death=deaf… to them anyway. ;0) )
Oh sweetheart, it’s such a hard time for you. All I can do is send our love and prayers.
Jackie xxx
Love you sweetheart … I am very proud of who you are and what you’ve achieved, and I feel most painfully for you at the moment; I wish I could make it all better. But all I can do is love you, look at you, and be here – always xx
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