Let the music flow and the drinks play.

I love going out clubbing. Don't do it often enough (well, in my eyes anyway. I'm sure my degree would disagree and say I do it too much). Love dancing to the music and (when I'm sober) laugh at/with (delete as appropriate) my friends or (when I'm drunk) have embarrassing pictures taken of me. Although the embarrassing pictures tend to show up even when I haven't touched a drop of alcohol. Hmm...

But I digress. As I said, I love clubbing. There are a few issues though. I don't wear my hearing aids when I'm hitting the town. A) for fear of losing them and B) they're pretty much useless in a place with a lot of background noise, like a club. Which makes it impossible to hear anything anyone says. I literally only hear the music (which to me isn't that loud, but I have it on safe authority that it's much louder in clubs than it is playing on my laptop).

So lip-reading it is. And boy, am I glad I've started to go to lip-reading classes. It definitely comes in handy. Of course it's easy for my hearing friends to forget that I lip-read in clubs. It's a hearing person's instinct to shout in their hearing friends' ears in clubs. It's the only way to communicate. Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work that way for me. There's absolutely no point in shouting in to my ears in a club - I'm deaf, all I hear is the music. At the start of the night they remember that I'm lip-reading, but after a few drinks they quickly forget and the next thing I know is their mouths next to my ear. But my friends, being the lovely people they are, don't mind when I ask them to move back and let me read their lips instead.

I make mistakes as well. It's easy for me to forget that my friends are hearing. Without my hearing aids, I have no idea how loud my voice is. So, not wanting to be screaming at the top of my lungs, my voice is often quite low in clubs. Not very useful to my friends that can't lip-read. It's one of those things - because I'm learning how to lip-read, it's easy for me to forget that not everyone else can.

Sometimes I also find myself starting to sign to some people. When I can't hear, I sign. My parents are slowly catching on and can usually grasp what I'm signing. Most of my friends though, cannot sign. Which I tend to forget. I found myself signing 'Hey! Good day?' to a friend I hadn't seen in a while. I was met with a very blank look. I was thinking 'what on earth is wrong, did I say something wrong?' Then it hit me. I didn't say it I signed it. Whoops.

But for the most part it's not really a problem. After all, the point of clubbing is to dance & drink, not talk. Still love it. (Although I am finding myself going home earlier and earlier - oh dear, please tell me my age isn't starting to show!)

Then there's walking home after a night out. I'm always wary and tend to drive in to town and park my car close to the clubs/pubs. Firstly, because I don't much fancy walking back home alone in the dark. I live in quite a safe-ish area, but it never hurts to be vigilant. Of course - it's difficult for me to be vigilant as I can't hear. Unless I keep looking behind me every 10 seconds, I have no idea if there's someone walking behind me or not. I can't hear if there's someone behind me, coming out of an alley to my side or running towards me.

It's quite difficult to be aware of your surroundings when you can't hear a thing. I can see people falling about drunk and laughing with each other, I just can't hear them. If I can't hear loud-mouthed louts, I can't hear anyone sneaking up on me. So I tend to be over-cautious and always prepared. (Read - keys inbetween my knuckles ready to punch someone should they jump out at me.) And always have my car parked close on a main road. I figure it's better to be safe than sorry.

(In case you hadn't guessed, I've just come back from a class night out).

Until next time,
Deaf Girl

Grumpy Old Women

One of the things I like about lip-reading classes is that you're with people that know exactly how you feel and what you're going through. Losing your hearing is something that hearing people and people born deaf can't relate to. People can sympathise and try to imagine, but never really understand. And most of the time that's fine, it's not like it's a big deal.

But it is nice to spend a couple of hours each week with other HoH people. This week, as well as learning how to lip-read, we were also sharing anecdotes which we could all relate to.

One woman had just had her cochlear implant switched on. For those that don't know, a cochlear implant is an electronic device that is surgically implanted and allows a profoundly deaf person to hear some things. See the picture below.



Anyway, as I was saying. She had just had her cochlear implant turned on and was sitting at home. Then she heard a noise she hadn't heard before. It was quite a frequent noise. What on earth was it? What did it mean? Where was it coming from? Was it a good or bad thing? It was only after she realised that the sound was happening every second that she realised it was the clock in her kitchen ticking. It was the seconds hand moving. A sound she had never heard before.

Another had an ear infection and so wasn't wearing her hearing aids (it was great to have a moan about being deaf with an ear infection with people that understand!). Only she had left the battery in and switched on. Next to a tin of cough sweets. She was out at the doctor's whilst her husband was at home going quietly mad as there was a strange high-pitched electrical noise coming from somewhere. It could be heard all throughout the house. When she came back from the doctor's he was about ready to tear his hait out. What the hell is that horrible noise?! She of course, had no idea what he was on about and couldn't hear a thing. Eventually the husband realised what it was and all was well - apart from his ringing ears and need to throttle someone.

I shared some of my stories (I left out the bedroom-antics-anecdotes as most of the people there are either old enough to be my parent or grandparent) as well. My neighbour recently greeted me from his drive way. I waved back. He yelled something. I didn't hear what it was, asked him to repeat. He did. I didn't hear it again and he was too far away to lip-read. So I just laughed and nodded to which I got a very odd look. He was probably telling me his cat had died or something. 'Oh wonderful, haha, yes rather!'

I was in church the other night. Chatting with a girl next to me. She asked me something - I thought she asked me a question about the conversation we were having which was rather depressing. I could make out 'how' 'you' 'feel' and 'about'. So I responded with 'oh I think it's dreadful, really terrible, it's devastating.' Turns out she was asking me how I felt about the fantastic news about Jesus and God. Oops.

So yes, it's great to be able to talk to people that know exactly how I feel. Lip-reading is quite fun. Although I'm sure to any observer we look like we should be on 'Grumpy Old (Wo)men' because of the way we moan and go on about things!

Deaf Girl

Achoo

I'm currently lying on my bed with a bar of chocolate watching Lip Serivce (which by the way, doesn't have any subtitles - very annoying) and a box of tissues on my bedside table. Yup, I'm ill.

Along with all the usual joys that come with being ill with bronchitis - delightfully sexy runny nose, alluring blood-shot eyes, seductive frog-like voice and a sensual cough - there is also the bunged up ears to deal with. My hearing at best is 40%. But when I'm ill, my hearing is practically non-existant. My hearing aids don't work when I'm ill either - it's like trying to catch a sound when my ears are full of cotton wool. Just won't work.

I had an interview the other day as well. Can't imagine what he must have thought of me, what with me coughing my guts up and asking 'sorry, can you repeat that?' every 5 minutes. Certainly wasn't very pleasant!

So. What does a deaf girl that looks & feels like death warmed over do when she's ill? Why, turns up at her parents' house for some TLC of course! Which is exactly where I am now, and plan on staying until I'm recovered.

I may be 23, but at heart, I'm definitely still a child. Nothing can beat recouperating at home with loving parents willing to do your washing and cook your dinner.

If it wasn't for me being ill, I might be enjoying it a bit more. Ah well, can't have everything.

Deaf Girl