Everywhere you look at the minute all you can see is a sea of white. The beautiful colours of autumn have been replaced by a tranquil winter wonderland. Trees that were once full of colour are now a winter masterpiece covered in snow and ice. It truly is breathtaking (sometimes quite literally as your lungs are assaulted by the cold air!)
So, what do you do with all this magic around you? Simple - have a snow fight!
Snow has a way of bringing out your inner child. The purity and beauty of the snow speaks to your childish delights and it's not long before your mischievious inner self is let out to play.
Of course, sponatenous snow fights are out of the question - cheeky friends can't suddenly pelt me with snowballs as it could damage my hearing aids. But once I've taken out my hearing aids, let the fun begin.
There is nothing like running around, laughing and attacking your friends with a snowball.
I am slightly at a disadvantage - without my hearing aids, I can't hear anyone sneak up behind me. The tell-tale 'crunch crunch' of a boot on crisp snow falls, quite literally, on deaf ears with me.
So I've come up with a very simple solution (other than trying not to have my back to everyone). A hat. Now why didn't I think of that before? This came to me after I'd already been in a few snow fights. So simple.
I have a nice purple hat that I can pull down over my ears. Which means I can wear my hearing aids. Sure, it will block out some sound, but I won't be nearly as deaf as I am without my hearing aids. And another advantage - I won't be as cold either!
So, I now carry the hat in my handbag, for whenever the next impromptu snow fight is.
Ready... set... fire!
Deaf Girl
Sunday 28 November 2010
Saturday 20 November 2010
Deaf Club
I went to Deaf Club today with a friend of mine, J, that's also learning BSL. This particular Deaf Club is held once a month is aimed at helping BSL learners get a firmer grasp on the language.
I was very, very nervous before going. Also extremely excited. After all, this would be the first time that I really socialised with other deaf people. Would I be welcomed? Would my signing be good enough? Would I be looked down upon because I still have some hearing?
But I needn't have worried. Everyone was extremely welcoming, and didn't mind repeating what they had signed or getting another hearing person to say what they had signed. There were BSL students from all levels - ranging from level 1 through level 4.
For the first few hours J and I sat back and watched what was going on, taking in all the new signs and trying to figure out what they meant. Then we joined in and started to sign with people. One guy was absolutely hilarious and had me in fits of giggles.
I did find that I only understood about 1/4 of what was going on, but I loved it. It has made me realise how much I still have to learn though. I'm just a beginner, my signing isn't smooth and I'm still translating from english to BSL or vice versa. It will take a long time before I'm fluent.
Luckily there's some awesome people out there that are very patient and are more than happy to help all us BSL learners.
There's a Christmas dinner being held next month which I'd like to go to. Will have to make sure I'm free, it should be good fun.
In the meantime, I need to practice my signing so I'm not left asking 'could you please repeat that?' every two minutes.
I will master this language!
Deaf Girl
I was very, very nervous before going. Also extremely excited. After all, this would be the first time that I really socialised with other deaf people. Would I be welcomed? Would my signing be good enough? Would I be looked down upon because I still have some hearing?
But I needn't have worried. Everyone was extremely welcoming, and didn't mind repeating what they had signed or getting another hearing person to say what they had signed. There were BSL students from all levels - ranging from level 1 through level 4.
For the first few hours J and I sat back and watched what was going on, taking in all the new signs and trying to figure out what they meant. Then we joined in and started to sign with people. One guy was absolutely hilarious and had me in fits of giggles.
I did find that I only understood about 1/4 of what was going on, but I loved it. It has made me realise how much I still have to learn though. I'm just a beginner, my signing isn't smooth and I'm still translating from english to BSL or vice versa. It will take a long time before I'm fluent.
Luckily there's some awesome people out there that are very patient and are more than happy to help all us BSL learners.
There's a Christmas dinner being held next month which I'd like to go to. Will have to make sure I'm free, it should be good fun.
In the meantime, I need to practice my signing so I'm not left asking 'could you please repeat that?' every two minutes.
I will master this language!
Deaf Girl
Saturday 13 November 2010
Serenity
Okay, so the other day was quite an emotional day. But I'm alright now. After all - I hadn't really expected to ever be a hearing person again. It was just difficult hearing from a specialist that this was the case. But I'm alright.
Life has a tendency to throw things at you, and if you don't adapt or roll with it, you'll end up being pretty miserable. You know what springs to mind? The serenity prayer.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
Life has a tendency to throw things at you, and if you don't adapt or roll with it, you'll end up being pretty miserable. You know what springs to mind? The serenity prayer.
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will;
That I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next.
Amen.
So, I'm doing good.
I was at a social last night, for the students at the church that I've just started going to. It was a really fun night. There were a few occasions where I couldn't hear what was going on - especially at the beginning where I was talking to a woman opposite me, while the guy next to me was talking to a guy across from me. Everything was just one loud noise, I couldn't make out anything.
But I've realised that that's okay. Instead of trying to catch every single word that is spoken, I've realised that as long as I get the gist of things, that's fine. After all, I'm no longer hearing. I'm deaf, I'm going to miss some things. Unless what I've missed is vital to the conversation, there's no point dwelling on it.
And it really was a fun night, and when I didn't catch something, I either asked someone to repeat what was said, or moved on. It was a really good night.
In other news, I was quite excited the other day. I picked up Diva, a monthly magazine, and was pleasently surprised to discover that a letter I had written to them was printed in the 'Your Shout' section at the beginning. If you recall, I wrote here that I was thrilled to see that they had written a piece about a deaf song signer (blog entry here).
I wrote in to express how pleased I was to see that article, and they printed my letter. Not a big deal, I know, but still, it's quite cool to see my letter there!
Deaf Girl
Wednesday 10 November 2010
Hospital appointment
I cried today.
I had an appointment at the ENT (Ears, Nose & Throat) department of the hospital today. It was the appointment we'd been waiting for for quite a while to finally get some answers as to why I'm deaf.
This was the appointment that would tell me once and for all what the hell is going on with my ears. It was also the appointment that would determine whether or not my parents would learn BSL.
So we got there (my parents came with me), sat and waited for a bit, twiddling our thumbs until I was called. I had another hearing test. The woman started to explain what I had to do, she then saw I was wearing hearing aids and said 'I suppose you're pretty familiar with these huh?'
Just a bit! After all, this is the third hearing test I've had this year alone.
So we get started. The usual, press a button if you hear a sound. I wait. And wait. And wait some more. I'm thinking, 'oh shit! I can't hear anything! Surely by now I should be able to hear something? Has my hearing gotten that much worse?'
No, it just turns out she was chatting with one of her friends about her love life and hadn't started the test yet. Several times she stops to talk to one of her friends. But finally, we finish.
So we go to see the consultant. Who didn't have any of my records. He thought I was a new patient at the hospital. I have been a patient of that department for about 3 years now.
So far, I am not filled with confidence at their level of professionalism.
The consultant informs us that the hearing test that I had just taken was inconclusive. He implied that it was somehow my fault that the test hadn't worked. It had nothing to do with them chatting to each other and not paying attention to what they were doing. No, it was definitely my fault.
By this point a nurse has managed to track down my other hearing test results. He has a look at them and the new one. Mumbles to himself a bit, asks about my history, and eventually tells me that my hearing loss is most likely due to damages to the nerves in the inner ear, and not due to calcification of the bones as had been originally suggested.
He performs another crude test which involved him banging a tuning fork and holding it to my ear and then holding it against my head behind my ear. He asked me if I could hear this.
I look at him.
'Yes...'
He sees me looking at him strangely. Then he realises; I've still got my hearing aids in. Of course I can hear it!
So he repeats the process, this time without me wearing my hearing aids. He asked me which I could hear better - in front of my ear or against my head. The answer is in front of my ear. Which would suggest nerve damage.
Meaning; my deafness is incurable. If it does get worse, there is no operation for it.
I hadn't realised before, but I had been holding out hope. Until I had been told that there really is nothing that can be done, somewhere, in the back of my mind, the thought had always been there that if my hearing got a loss worse, I could maybe have an operation that might make me hearing again.
It wasn't much, and I didn't really believe I would ever be hearing again, but the hope, the maybe had always been there. But now that bubble has burst, and I realise that I will never again be hearing. I will be deaf for the rest of my life. I will never hear birds without my hearing aids. I will never be able to cuddle someone without first having to take my hearing aids out to avoid feedback. I will never... well, you get the picture.
I hadn't realised that I had held out this secret hope. And now it's dashed. So I felt sorry for myself and had a bit of a cry.
I've now stopped the self-pitying mode and realised life could be so much worse. I can still hear with my hearing aids. I have perfect vision. A great life. So what if I'm deaf?
The consultant also said that it's unlikely that my hearing will get worse, and if it does it will take years and years before I go completely deaf. Good news.
He has referred us to a specialist that will be able to say for certain whether my deafness is nerve damage or the bone. But at this point, I've accepted it's nerve damage. It looks highly unlikely to be bone damage.
So, this means that my hearing will most likely stay as it is for a while yet. It does mean that I will probably be in limbo (see previous entry) for quite a while yet. But you know what? It's not such a bad place to be.
You'll be glad to read that I've stopped feeling sorry for myself - after all, being deaf does have its advantages. One of them being that apparently the TV in the house that I share with uni friends makes a rather annoying high pitched noise. I can't hear it, even with my hearing aids in. It drives my housemates mad. I am blissfully unaware and enjoy watching TV without the apparent horrible noise.
Until next time,
Deaf Girl
I had an appointment at the ENT (Ears, Nose & Throat) department of the hospital today. It was the appointment we'd been waiting for for quite a while to finally get some answers as to why I'm deaf.
This was the appointment that would tell me once and for all what the hell is going on with my ears. It was also the appointment that would determine whether or not my parents would learn BSL.
So we got there (my parents came with me), sat and waited for a bit, twiddling our thumbs until I was called. I had another hearing test. The woman started to explain what I had to do, she then saw I was wearing hearing aids and said 'I suppose you're pretty familiar with these huh?'
Just a bit! After all, this is the third hearing test I've had this year alone.
So we get started. The usual, press a button if you hear a sound. I wait. And wait. And wait some more. I'm thinking, 'oh shit! I can't hear anything! Surely by now I should be able to hear something? Has my hearing gotten that much worse?'
No, it just turns out she was chatting with one of her friends about her love life and hadn't started the test yet. Several times she stops to talk to one of her friends. But finally, we finish.
So we go to see the consultant. Who didn't have any of my records. He thought I was a new patient at the hospital. I have been a patient of that department for about 3 years now.
So far, I am not filled with confidence at their level of professionalism.
The consultant informs us that the hearing test that I had just taken was inconclusive. He implied that it was somehow my fault that the test hadn't worked. It had nothing to do with them chatting to each other and not paying attention to what they were doing. No, it was definitely my fault.
By this point a nurse has managed to track down my other hearing test results. He has a look at them and the new one. Mumbles to himself a bit, asks about my history, and eventually tells me that my hearing loss is most likely due to damages to the nerves in the inner ear, and not due to calcification of the bones as had been originally suggested.
He performs another crude test which involved him banging a tuning fork and holding it to my ear and then holding it against my head behind my ear. He asked me if I could hear this.
I look at him.
'Yes...'
He sees me looking at him strangely. Then he realises; I've still got my hearing aids in. Of course I can hear it!
So he repeats the process, this time without me wearing my hearing aids. He asked me which I could hear better - in front of my ear or against my head. The answer is in front of my ear. Which would suggest nerve damage.
Meaning; my deafness is incurable. If it does get worse, there is no operation for it.
I hadn't realised before, but I had been holding out hope. Until I had been told that there really is nothing that can be done, somewhere, in the back of my mind, the thought had always been there that if my hearing got a loss worse, I could maybe have an operation that might make me hearing again.
It wasn't much, and I didn't really believe I would ever be hearing again, but the hope, the maybe had always been there. But now that bubble has burst, and I realise that I will never again be hearing. I will be deaf for the rest of my life. I will never hear birds without my hearing aids. I will never be able to cuddle someone without first having to take my hearing aids out to avoid feedback. I will never... well, you get the picture.
I hadn't realised that I had held out this secret hope. And now it's dashed. So I felt sorry for myself and had a bit of a cry.
I've now stopped the self-pitying mode and realised life could be so much worse. I can still hear with my hearing aids. I have perfect vision. A great life. So what if I'm deaf?
The consultant also said that it's unlikely that my hearing will get worse, and if it does it will take years and years before I go completely deaf. Good news.
He has referred us to a specialist that will be able to say for certain whether my deafness is nerve damage or the bone. But at this point, I've accepted it's nerve damage. It looks highly unlikely to be bone damage.
So, this means that my hearing will most likely stay as it is for a while yet. It does mean that I will probably be in limbo (see previous entry) for quite a while yet. But you know what? It's not such a bad place to be.
You'll be glad to read that I've stopped feeling sorry for myself - after all, being deaf does have its advantages. One of them being that apparently the TV in the house that I share with uni friends makes a rather annoying high pitched noise. I can't hear it, even with my hearing aids in. It drives my housemates mad. I am blissfully unaware and enjoy watching TV without the apparent horrible noise.
Until next time,
Deaf Girl
Wednesday 3 November 2010
Limbo
Some days I wish I had been born deaf, instead of slowly going deaf. It's hard living on the edge of two worlds. I don't fully fit in in the hearing world, or the deaf world. Sometimes it feels like I live in limbo.
Yes, I am learning BSL and lip-reading. But until I fully master both of them, I don't fit in anywhere. Hearing people see me as deaf. Deaf people view me as hearing. I am both, I am neither.
The deaf world has it's own hierarchy - the highest being deaf born to deaf parents. The lowest being hearing impaired but not from birth.
I don't mourn my hearing loss. I don't wish I was hearing again. I just wish I was one or the other.
I want to fit in somewhere. But at the minute I am in no man's land.
Learning a new language is difficult and it will take years before I am fluent in BSL. I would love to go to Deaf Club and fit in and forget about the hearing world for a while. But my BSL isn't good enough for that yet - I am only a beginner. And most people in Deaf Club aren't that welcome to beginner BSL users, after all, Deaf Club is a place for deaf people to go to take a break from the hearing world. The last thing they want is to babysit a not-deaf-not-hearing person that hasn't fully grasped their language.
But I need a respite from the hearing world as well. So it can be tough.
That's why I like lip-reading -we're all in the same boat. We were all hearing but are now deaf. No one gets annoyed when you ask to repeat something. No one judges you for being at the bottom of the hierarchy. Everyone is welcoming.
But it is a place where you learn how to cope in your old home, the hearing world. it's not really a break from anything.
In December there is a Deaf Club meeting where beginner BSL users are welcome. I'm really looking forward to that. It should be good.
Greetings from the twilight zone,
Deaf Girl
Yes, I am learning BSL and lip-reading. But until I fully master both of them, I don't fit in anywhere. Hearing people see me as deaf. Deaf people view me as hearing. I am both, I am neither.
The deaf world has it's own hierarchy - the highest being deaf born to deaf parents. The lowest being hearing impaired but not from birth.
I don't mourn my hearing loss. I don't wish I was hearing again. I just wish I was one or the other.
I want to fit in somewhere. But at the minute I am in no man's land.
Learning a new language is difficult and it will take years before I am fluent in BSL. I would love to go to Deaf Club and fit in and forget about the hearing world for a while. But my BSL isn't good enough for that yet - I am only a beginner. And most people in Deaf Club aren't that welcome to beginner BSL users, after all, Deaf Club is a place for deaf people to go to take a break from the hearing world. The last thing they want is to babysit a not-deaf-not-hearing person that hasn't fully grasped their language.
But I need a respite from the hearing world as well. So it can be tough.
That's why I like lip-reading -we're all in the same boat. We were all hearing but are now deaf. No one gets annoyed when you ask to repeat something. No one judges you for being at the bottom of the hierarchy. Everyone is welcoming.
But it is a place where you learn how to cope in your old home, the hearing world. it's not really a break from anything.
In December there is a Deaf Club meeting where beginner BSL users are welcome. I'm really looking forward to that. It should be good.
Greetings from the twilight zone,
Deaf Girl
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