Shel asked, What was it like?

Me-- when I could hear well. (1961)

Shel wrote a nice comment in my post On the Fence, and asked about my childhood. I guess he wanted to gain a better understanding of what it feels like to be late-deafened.

You're right: I can never fully understand where you are coming from. You can also say you can never understand where I am coming from as I've chosen to own ASL as my mother tongue, and thereby my Deaf identity. It's a long story, dear. I do invite you to read my blog on growing up in a Hearing family at Shel: A Deaf Canadian's Thoughts. This is in response to Open Minded Deaf Observer's negative perspective of life in a Hearing family and life in general. He's entitled to his perspective, and so am I entitled to mine. (So are you to yours! :-)) There are some things you might not understand, but do please feel free to ask me. If you are willing, would you mind describing in depth that experience as a child in school and outside of school? I'd love to hear about it... "hear"... talk about puns!

I've been thinking how to answer this question--'what was my hearing childhood like?' First of all, I want to say I appreciate that you want to understand.

I grew up hearing. **shrug** I'm not sure what more you need to know about that. Do you wish for me to describe what hearing was like? I can't.

I have tried to think of different analogies that might help, but I've realized it's impossible. I've read comments from Deaf people who have said music means nothing to them, or that they wouldn't want to hear because the world is "noisy." I understand that, because when you wear hearing aids many sounds are unpleasant. However, hearing aids do not even come close to natural hearing.

There's a richness to sound you can't possibly understand unless you've heard it. Sound is rarely painful and not usually annoying to people with good hearing. The human ear is every bit as miraculous as the eye.

Of all sounds, music is sublime. There's good reason every culture all over the world celebrates with music. Did you know music probably came before speech? Almost all animals sing or chatter to attract mates. Humans are no different. Read Your Brain On Music for more information about how music and rhythm evolved. Anyway I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I just want to point out how significant sound is to most hearing people. I want you to appreciate how deeply rooted sound is in our human evolution and how connected it is to our emotions. I could tell you about sounds I used to love, but it would be like describing a beautiful sunset to a blind person who has never seen. There aren't words enough.

I don't mean to offend, but music can even enhance orgasm, which is why many hearing people use it to seduce a date, and play it while having sex. It's also evokes spiritual and transcendental experiences, which is why it is used to celebrate God.

Some hearing people love music more than others. I started playing the piano at age four-- the age I was in the picture above. I took ballet dancing, played flute in my school band from fifth-grade on and sang in my church and school choirs. I loved piano best. I haven't completely lost music, but I don't hear it the way I used to and that has left a big void.

Some Deaf people have said that I haven't accepted Deafhood if I don't love being deaf. To me, that's like a childless woman telling a mother who has lost her child that it's wonderful being childless. Once a parent, always a parent -- even after a child dies. There's no going back. It's the same with hearing. I can't go back and pretend I never heard.

So when Deaf people say that I need to move on, that I need to celebrate Deafhood, or that I need to choose which "side of the fence" to sit on-- hearing or deaf, I want to scream, "How DARE you!?" You can't possibly know what it means to become deaf unless you have heard. You've always been Deaf. (When I say 'you' I don't mean you personally Shel, I mean the 'anyone' you.)

I agree I can't possibly know what it's like to be you either.

Life is worth celebrating, whether Deaf, deaf or hearing. Deafhood is no more special than any other way of being. I'm celebrating my own life and my own personal journey, which happens to be neither hearing, nor deaf. I do not grieve the loss of hearing, but I sure do appreciate the meaning of what I've lost. There's no going back.

Smiles,
Kim

Cochlear Implants for Babies??

So I've been reading Mishkazena's blog, and as usual the issue of Cochlear Implants for babies has came up again. Some feel AGBell, Cochlear Implants for babies, and a few oral deaf people who blog about the positive benefits of oral education was the root cause of all this fuss-- which finally led to John's deficit thinking/censorship outburst. Read his blog here if you haven't already. John's blog (Since the time I originally posted my blog, John has recanted. Now he says he only meant deficit thinking should be censored, not certain individuals. See Johns New Blog.) At this point I'm super confused. I don't know how you can censor thoughts. I don't mean this sarcastically. I understand there's a disconnect because John's second language is English and I'm just now learning ASL. We're all supposed to be part of the same community but we don't even speak the same language.

As a late-deafened person. I often feel like I have one foot in deaf world and one in hearing. While my world isn't always totally silent, I think I understand the daily ins and outs of deafness. To give an example, recently my kids were talking about the sound squirrels made.

"They make sounds?" I asked. I didn't know. I grew up hearing. I should have known all the animal sounds by age fifty. But life is a learning experience and I have missed a few things along the way. We don't know exactly when my hearing loss began, so maybe I missed more things than I realized. I had never heard squirrel chatter before, and no one ever mentioned it. That I'm fifty, and only just now learned animals in my yard make a noise I didn't know about floored me!! That's what deafness is all about. For me. . . Deafhood is something different for others.


Similar incidents have happened over the years. On camping trips I've learned we were near rivers or lakes in the morning. Everyone else heard it when we pitched our tent at night, but they never said anything. People knew there were beehives in places I didn't know about because they could hear the hum. My deaf world is full of wonder. There's surprise when I'm on a hike and round a bend to find a waterfall. The hearing know it's there all along because they can hear it for miles.

BUT because they are too distracted with their ears, hurrying to get to a river or an ocean they hear, sometimes they miss other things I see with my eyes. I stop and marvel at dew on a spiderweb, an unusual red bug, a pretty rock, and lag behind hearing hikers because I'm in awe of the beauty around me. Colors seem more brilliant than they did when I could hear well. Movement catches my eye with its rhythm. Sunlight and shadows wink through spaces to catch my attention. Maybe that's how I enjoy Deafhood? I don't know. That's when I enjoy deafness.

I have been deaf to many sounds most my life, if not speech-- and now I'm deaf to most speech too. I still understand the hearing world because I remember hearing. I remember the soft and tinkly sound of flowing water in the distance. I also remember the sound of leaves crunching beneath my feet. I barely remember cricket chirps. I haven't heard a mosquito since I was a very little girl, but I remember they made a high-pitched sound when they flew. So I know what it's like to be distracted by sounds. Hearing is still my "culture" even though I don't quite fit in. I have missed out on a lot of stuff after I started to lose my hearing.

I am not hearing or Deaf. I am deaf. In my perfect world everyone would sign and talk at the same time. The hearing would caption their videos and the Deaf would caption their vlogs. I would not care about sentence structure or spelling because I appreciate the time it takes to caption. I realize not everyone's first language is English. I would not care about perfect ASL because I realize not everyone's first language is ASL.

So what does any of this have to do with Mishkazena's blog??? And implants for babies??? I keep wondering about the subject of cochlear implants on babies. Have any of you personally known a baby who was implanted? I haven't. I have read the occasional news accounts of the rare implant that got infected. Circumcisions also get infected sometimes, and they are painful. Babies are given nothing to deaden the pain. I think it's a brutal practice. (If you want to read a horror story, there was a baby boy many years ago whose penis accidentally got lopped off during circumcision. A psychologist decided it would be best to turn him into a girl after that. Very, very sad, but true story!!) As Nature Made Him

I have seen videos of people who were implanted young and they seem to have better speech than people my age who grew up with hearing aids. Since I'm deaf I have asked others to evaluate their speech too. The deaf speech doesn't seem to be present. This is really great I think, because unclear "deaf speech" can be considered somewhat of an obstacle in the hearing world and may hinder one's job propects!

The reason hearing parents may choose to implant their kids is because infant language development begins early. National Institutes of Health Language Development A lag in language development can impact a child's ability to read and learn later on. We all know how important education is, especially in today's world. I honestly don't think believe cochlear implants are about "hearing supremacy" or a desire to wipe out Deaf people. They are about opportunities. I have met a few implanted late-deafened adults who can talk on telephones and I'm impressed with their hearing capabilities. I don't know if they can hear mosquitos or squirrels. Probably not. But I knew them before their implants and after, so I was able to make a comparison. The differences astounded me!!

If I had a Deaf child I'm not sure what I would do about a cochlear implant, but I AM sure the child would be taught ASL. I am not an expert on any of this. I am only a late-deafened mom who has raised three kids, and this is only my opinion based on how I see it. There are risks with the cochlear implant--yes. But there may also be many opportunities. Each parent needs to weigh the risks and oppportunities against the child's individual needs, whether the child has other challenges, and how healthy the child is. Parents need to consider their own lifestyles, their financial resources, and family support systems. There are so many factors to consider before a major surgery. Perhaps the some parents feel pressured into implanting their child and cave. It's intensely personal and we shouldn't judge them after the decision has been made. They only do their best given the information they've received.

I wish I learned ASL earlier. I wish my family knew ASL and that I had more friends who knew ASL. When you have a cochlear implant you are still deaf in a lot of situations, and the processor has to come off. Or it malfunctions. Or the batteries need to be changed. ASL makes so much sense for ALL deaf/Deaf people, especially children.

I hope we can all remain open, as I believe hearing parents need support from the Deaf community more than ever before-- and it needs to be positive support if we want them to listen.

What do YOU want?

Yesterday while processing a book, it fell open to a page that said

FOCUS ON WHAT YOU WANT, NOT WHAT YOU DON'T WANT.

Sometimes when things like this happen I wonder if someone is trying to give me a message. I believe in angels and spirit guides and I'm prone to picking up on psychic messages sometimes. So I stopped and paid attention. The overly large word fonts stood right out on a bright red page. My daughter would say this was all a total coincidence because I handle hundreds of books every day, but nevermind--- that's not the point of this blog. The words popped out at me, and this seemed to mean something important at that moment.

I guess the reason it hit me was this;

I realized I've been thinking about exactly the wrong things lately. I've been worrying too much-- about a lot of stuff. Without even realizing I was worrying. Because I was not thinking about this negative stuff consciously, until that moment it didn't hit me how much I had been stewing.

I'll admit I've become cynical about wants. Life aint fair. Wants?! HA! Get real. Shit happens. There are ways of dealing with the hard knocks. But I'm not going to go into all that just now. Instead I'll copy the inspirational path to everlasting "peace" I tried to follow for awhile.

Buddist philosophy--

All human life is "dhukka" (impermanent
unsatisfactoriness).
All suffering is caused
by human desire,particularly the desire that impermanent things be
permanent.
Human suffering can be ended by ending human desire.
Desire
can be ended by following the "Eightfold Noble Path": right understanding, right
thought, right speech, right action, right livelihood, right effort, right
mindfulness, and right concentration.

But you know what? It didn't work. Why? Because wanting is the American way, and not wanting is the same as wanting when it comes right down to it. Say for example I don't want to do poorly on my ASL test on Monday. That's the same as wanting to do well. Right? I have been SO STUPID!

Then I remembered this little nugget of wisdom -- Buddhists base ethical decisions on the consequences of their actions, how they would feel if the action was done to them, and whether the action was helpful to their well-being or the well-being of another. (It's like the Golden Rule. "Do unto others. . .") This is what appeals to me about Buddhism --Your actions should be determined by whether they serve the well-being of self and others, rather than if they fit in with someone's ancient idea of right and wrong 2000 years ago. Not that I have a problem with Jesus, per se. But the Golden Rule is timeless, while many hateful passages of the Bible that some people misinterpret, twist around and spout off serve no useful purpose.

Anyway--Thinking about stuff I don't want to happen won't get me closer to any of the things I DO want to happen.

Of course it is OK to want something as long as it promotes well-being of self and/or others.

Sometimes we turn down what's in front of us for the taking. Ever done that? Sometimes you don't think you deserve something, other times you think you're too good. Maybe you don't. I do. I admit.

So I've been thinking about this a lot the past couple days, and then it hit me that these same thoughts could be applied to the ASL debates people have been having.

You see-- one of my wants is to be able to communicate better without having to worry about hearing. I want that so BAD. I want that more than I want to go through surgery. (I guess not everyone knows-- I **might** be able to have a surgery for an experimental cochlear hybrid.) But I'm not sure I want it. This is why I'm taking ASL. I don't know many people who use ASL right now. I'm meeting some. I worry other Deaf people will not like me because I am slow and a beginner. All I want is to be able to communicate freely and easily. That's all. Well OK--that's not really, really all, but that's all I'm admitting to right now. ASL promotes the well-being of self and others. An experimental surgery? . . .Eh?

In the past several weeks of reading and posting in Deafread, a few people have said they don't like to "slow down" to talk to "hearing" people who are learning ASL. Some of them have said they don't like going to events where non-deaf ASL learners will be present. Some have complained that speakers of other sign languages feel unwelcome-- specifically a man whose partner spoke BSL. Now lately, I've been reading about ISL. Recently someone wrote in a blog her two-year-old deaf-blind son was shunned after a couple Deaf people noticed he was wearing a CI. Additionally, some of my late-deafened friends who were learning ASL have shared personal experiences of being shunned by Deaf people as well. By the way, we can't help it if English was our first language and that our ASL is crappy.

I believe the majority of you are NICE folks who wouldn't dream of shunning a two-year-old deaf-blind boy. Most of you have been so very nice to me.

But I just have to ask ---What do YOU want?

The painting is called "Storms Aftermath" by Charles Bourke Wildbank. He has been profoundly deaf since birth. I really relate to the storm surrounding his cochlea.

You Can Cuss Here

Speaking of lipreading, some funny things happened over the years with my kids. A lot of times I mis-read their lips and threw their friends for a loop when I gave some crazy answer to a question. Sometimes we would laugh and laugh about it later, though I can't remember any of the details now. I wish I had written all my weird bloopers down.

I remember one time though. My son was about twelve and he had invited a new friend over. They had just started playing Nintendo when I began to walk through the room. The friend shouted something I didn't hear, then covered his mouth in embarrassment. My son, sitting on the sofa bragged, "It's OK, my mom is almost deaf, so you can cuss all you want at my house."

Then I added--"But I read lips-- so make sure your back is turned." Both boys pitched and gawked -- mouths hanging open in perfect O's. They did not realize I was in the room. I winked, and walked out laughing wickedly.

Ever since, I have wondered just exactly how much swearing went on behind my back. I'll never know. But my kids have turned out OK . . for the most part.

This Whole Stupid LipReading Thing

I'm late-deafened. I can read lips, and I do pretty well at it. But I want to clarify what this means exactly because there seems to be a lot of misconception out there about super beings and miraculous lip reading skills.

First of all, let me just say right here if you ever saw the show F.B. EYE with the deaf Deanne Bray, you need to understand this is a TV show. It's make-believe. Fiction. No one in the real world reads lips THAT well. You have to be able to hear a little bit to be able to lip read. The more you hear, the better you do. Many deaf people have some residual hearing that helps them with lip reading and that's why some can "get by" with it.

I still have some low tone hearing. I am deaf to most speech sounds, but I because I hear some speech sounds--specifically vowels-- I can "get by" with lip reading. Vowel sounds are almost always made in the back of the throat. They can't be seen on the lips. Try it. Say the vowel sounds to yourself--short and long. Chances are the only time you'll move your lips is when you say the long O and long U. Even then, a deaf person wouldn't know if you were making the O, OO, or OW sound just by looking at your lips. I am lucky because I can hear the difference since I still hear low tones. There are vowels in every word. This helps me a LOT.

In fact, 70% of all sounds in the English language cannot be seen on the lips because the sounds are made in the back of the throat. If a person hears nothing at all, that means they must guess at 70% of what can't be seen. Doesn't that seem like an awful lot of guessing to you? It sure does to me.

Even if you were able to guess those 70% of sounds you can't see, you would still have more guessing to do. Why? Because so many other sounds look exactly alike on the lips-- t and d, k and g, p and b, f and v, s and z. I cannot hear the differences of any of these sounds. I cannot hear these sounds at all. When I talk to people, I have to guess.

Since I grew up hearing English and losing my hearing bit by bit, I learned an association of sound with lips. I have some context to help put the sounds in the right places. I understand the rhythm of speech, especially those voices I've known a long time. I can guess what some people are going to say before they say it, and sometimes I guess what they have said just by the rhythm of the sound because I know them. The point is I'm guessing what people are saying. I'm NOT "reading their lips."

I can not imagine how difficult it would be for a deaf child to learn this skill with no previous exposure to the sounds and rhythm of speech.

Then-- there are other problems with lipreading.
1. The person has an accent so he or she doesn't pronounce his or her letters the way most English speakers do.
2. The person doesn't move his or her lips while speaking. Some are so shy they barely move their mouths at all when they speak. Other people are paralyzed and can't.
3. The person has a speech impediment.
4. The person is self-conscious of his or her mouth and covers it a lot.
5. The person has a hairy beard that covers the lips.
6. The person has some kind of distracting oral tick or fixation such as playing with a pierced tongue, or talking out of the side of his or her mouth.
7. The person chews gum or bites nails.
8. The person is missing many teeth and cannot pronounce words correctly
9. There is glare behind the person's head, making it difficult for you to see the lips.
10. It's too dark.
11. The person is distracted or shy and has a hard time facing you. Or simply won't!
12. There is background noise drowning out what little sound you hear, so you have to guess even more than 70% of the conversation.
(I probably haven't covered everything here so feel free to list a few of your own if you think of something.)

Let's face it. Lipreading is a fine TOOL, but it's not a great way to communicate. It requires way too much work. Knowing all these facts about lip reading makes shows like F. B. Eye upsetting to me mainly because it promotes unrealistic expectations of the deaf.

When my progressive hearing loss was first diagnosed my doctor encouraged me to learn to lip read, but it turned out I already knew how, because I had picked it up on my own as a kid. I was "assessed" as an expert lip reader-- meaning I could lip read those 30% of sounds that could be seen on the lips. However, the lip reading didn't help. I was stressed all the time trying to communicate with people. Can you imagine trying to guess what people were talking about 70% of the time? HLA (SHHH) also encourages lip reading by passing out little buttons to wear in public with they words, "Face me, I lip read." This is so wrong to do because, again I want to stress, it promotes the false assumption that lip-reading is a way to communicate.

Often I let people know I read lips, but I also tell them I'm learning ASL too. I wish someone (like HLA) had encouraged me to learn ASL earlier. I have talked to so many late-deafened people who feel disappointed in their inabilities to learn lip reading. They thought it would be easy, then found out how hard it was. They thought there was something wrong with them, rather than with the program!!

People who promote lip reading skills promote false hope for all hard-of-hearing, d-deaf, and D-deaf. They set us up for failure. It doesn't work! What we need-- the late-deafened especially- is more community outreach so we and our families can learn ASL.

I love you, Mrs. Jones

Yesterday Mrs. Jones came into the library. "How are you today?" She talks and signs at the same time.

"Good. YOU?" I talk and sign back.

"I'm starting a new job. Nervous!" she signs.

I love Mrs. Jones. Her daughter is deaf. Mrs. Jones works with deaf kids and she signs without thinking because she signs all day. She knows I sign because I sign to her daughter when she comes into the library. I'm the only one in the library who signs to her daughter. I guess they don't run into many people in public who sign, so it's a big deal when they do, and they always make a point to come over and talk to me. My signing is very rudimentary. I need practice-- bad.

One problem with being late-deafened is finding people to practice ASL with. There are ASL classes, but most the students are hearing and the classes are often geared toward hearing people who want to become interpreters. I'm more of a visual learner. In that sense I feel I might "think" like a deaf person. ASL seems so logical to me. I pick up the vocabulary quickly and retain it well. I do better in immersion classes where talking isn't allowed. My downfall is fingerspelling. I hate it. I LOVE deaf people-- the way they express themselves. My deaf teacher from the Hearing, Speech and Deafness Cntr. was so funny and patient with me. But she moved and it became harder for us to get together. I miss her. I have met several other wonderful deaf people, but few live in my area, and it has been hard to coordinate our work schedules.

There are deaf gatherings in my community organized by a hearing ASL teacher who I can't stand. She got on my case last fall about my inability to lip read in the dark. 'Scuse me, but when it's dark it's pretty hard for people who rely on their eyes for communication. I found out later she has offended a lot of deaf people all over Seattle-metro, but I live in a small community and she's here shoving her way in. I won't have anything to do with her.

"I love it when you sign to me, Mrs. Jones." I said.

She looked a little confused and surprised. "Really?"

Deaf Hero Robert Weitbrecht

This past week my belly dancing instructor made the comment, "There's a fine line between erotic and exotic." In dancing, the difference is in how many inches apart you hold your feet while shimmying. Just a few inches can create a completely different look-- alluring and graceful or flaunting and brash.

The debate we've been having in here and on other blogs between "audism" and "deafism" got me thinking about the lines we draw between ourselves as deaf people. Medically speaking there's a fine line between a severe hearing loss and a profound hearing loss. There's a fine line between "hard-of-hearing" and "late-deafened" or "d-deaf." There's a fine line between oral deaf who were born without hearing and late-deafened who were born hearing, then lost most of their hearing. I know several oral "d-deaf" who hear better than me, who also sign better than me and speak well too. It seems to me they are the best off because they speak and sign so well. I envy them. I wish I were fluent in ASL, but I didn't grow up with a profound hearing loss. I am trying to learn.

Part of the reason I blog is to inform hearing people about deaf people. This is why I have Deaf Hero Day each week. Today's hero is deaf physicist, Robert H. Weitbrecht who invented the coupler for the TTY. Born deaf on April 11, 1920 in Orange, California, Weitbrecht was tutored in speechreading-- the prevailing method of deaf education at that time. He did not learn ASL until he was an adult. Because of his hard work, deaf people were able to communicate with each other by phone.

To read more about Weitbrecht, click on his name.

Second Class Citizen

This happened awhile ago, but I still laugh whenever I think about it. One time Meg and I went to a Thai place for lunch. (The picture above has nothing to do with this story, except that it's of a Thai waitress I got off the net.)

Meg had been mentoring me in ASL and our routine was to eat lunch in restaurants with our hearing aids removed. Because I needed the ASL practice, she normally did the oral speaking when the wait staff came around for our orders. I would point to my order. If the waitress had a question I couldn't lip read or she didn't face me, Meg would sign it to me and I would sign back. Thus, waiters and waitresses sometimes got the impression I was not oral.

I was not doing this to pull the wool over any one's eyes. I want to make it clear I wasn't asking for special favors or accommodations or even sympathy in these restaurants. My decision not to speak was purely motivated by the need for extra ASL practice. The more I could cram into our lunch sessions, the better. Also, I found it relaxing to be able to eat in restaurants without my hearing aids; to be able to communicate freely in ASL without having to worry about hearing. As a late-deafened person, I cannot begin to describe the excitement I felt by doing something as simple as going out to eat in a busy restaurant at lunchtime without the usual encumbrance of worrying about how I was going to HEAR the conversation.

So as usual-- when the waitress came around Meg ordered orally, and I pointed. The waitress had a question about my order and directed it to "oral" Meg, who signed to me, then I signed back, and Meg answered the waitress' questions for me. Soon our meal was brought around and we ate and signed happily for about an hour. Then, I became full and decided I might need a box to take the rest home. I signed, "FULL! Need box." Meg, who eats like a bird, also had a fully loaded plate of food. So Meg waved the waitress over and asked for our meals to be boxed up. Then we began signing about where we wanted to shop after the restaurant. . .

Next thing I know the waitress came over to the table and started boxing up my food, as if I were a child. This is new, I thought. Normally they just drop off the boxes and leave. I started to grab the spoon, but she kindly waved me off and indicated she wished to box it for me, so I let her. And sat there with an awkward stupid grin on my face. Meanwhile Meg waited and waited with her empty box-- thinking the waitress would offer the same service to her. After all, she had more food left on her plate than me. Next, the waitress closed the lid of my box carefully, placed it neatly into a plastic bag, then knotted it tightly -- all the while smiling in such a kind, benevolent way. Then she bowed slightly, turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Meg gaping over a humongous plateful of Thai food and an empty box.

Imagine Meg's surprise.

I signed that maybe the waitress thought she was more capable because she was the "oral" one. We shrugged it off and laughed. But I was honestly shocked. I never realized some people treated the deaf differently, like invalids. This was my first clear experience of audism. Though it wasn't altogether negative, I can only say that was because I tried to justify the waitress' actions by telling myself she meant well. If I really weren't oral, it probably would have hurt deeply that she had bagged my food as if I were a helpless five-year-old.

She did it again

Yesterday a deaf friend friend came over to pick up my son's waterbed because he's moving away in less than two weeks. We made deal--my son and I. When he moves out the waterbed goes. He isn't sad about it. He hasn't been sleeping in it all summer. Somewhere he read that waterbeds stunt your growth. An inch shy of six feet, maybe he's anxious to grow a couple more centimeters, I don't know. Eighteen-year-olds aren't big on communication. He's been trading off sleeping on the futon in the den and the family room sofa all summer. I have mentioned my friend (I'll call her Meg) in another blog-- "My Friend's Hands"

She drove a borrowed truck over, then we deconstructed the bed for her, so she could see how it would go back together. My husband drew pictures on the inside of boards to identify each piece and its relative position on the bed. I know she won't have any trouble. One thing about people born deaf is they seem to have a super spatial IQ. Those I've met-- admittedly I have personally met maybe only 30?-- are natural artists, engineers and tinkerers. Meg has a degree in computer science. Stupid she is not.

So during the deconstructing, panting, dusting, sneezing, moving, sweating, more panting, labeling, packing in the truck process-- my son mumbled he had lost his keys. "Mmmmpf had them, and felt bad about mmmpf, grmmfpt, mmmfpt. He had mmpfg, grmmmfp mmmmmfg, but couldnt mmmfg, mmmmmfg. . . .

"What?" I asked.

He yelled his story over again, but he wasn't in a position for me to see his mouth. I'm not sure I've mentioned my husband has also lost some hearing loss due to Menieres. So they began yelling back and forth, to the point even a DEAF person could hear them.

Oh WAIT! I AM DEAF, and I couldn't understand a word they were saying. But I'm sure the entire neighborhood heard them. With my hearing, because I hear low tones, I am aware of volume. The problem is speech doesn't make any sense, because my speech frequencies are all but gone.

"What? I asked again.

Luckily Meg was there, and she waved my attention. This is how deaf people do it instead of shouting. Yelling and shouting is an idiotic way of getting some one's attention when they can't hear. Think about it. Then she started signing a few words here and there to fill in the blanks for me.

Ah--I got it! He didn't have a spare key to his trunk. He would have to go to a locksmith and it would cost a lot of money to have a mold made for a trunk key. He can't get his trunk open at all because the inside latch is broken. (God knows what's inside the trunk-- I hope no rotting food.) His friend is sorry for losing the key. . .

We had lunch together, then she emailed when she got home with the bed. It would be nice to have another deaf person in the house, I was thinking. Two lip-readers are better than one, and we could sign to each other all the time. Or maybe I just need a live in interpreter so I can communicate with my family, since they can't/won't/forget to sign?

I have big plans for this empty room.

Notes about the painting above--

Born in Basaluzzo (Alessandria) in 1950, she studied in Rome at the "Accademia delle Belle Arti" (arts academy), where she followed post-diploma courses in set design. Currently, she is an Art Education instructor at a middle school in Rome.
She collaborates, as a set designer, with the deaf theater group "Laboratorio Zero" and with another theater company, "A. Bottazzi" in Basaluzzo.
In addition, she does graphic art work in the field of advertising, humorous drawings about the deaf world, and murals.
She has had a one-man show in Basaluzzo in 1983, and has participated in numerous regional and national group shows, receiving prizes and recognition.

Silence
This painting was inspired by a meeting with a deaf American poet, Clayton Valli, in Rome. It was used as the cover for a videotape containing Valli's poems.
The subtitle that the artist has selected conveys a clear message: "The silent language of the hands, in the harmony of Mother Nature."
Inspired by the creative expression in Valli's signed poems, Zuccotti's work vividly depicts a "creativity" concept that is neither noise nor sound, but is peace, fertile silence, nature that speaks, and hands that communicate.

http://tinyurl.com/2y94cz

My Top Five Hearing Aid Hate List

My Top Five Hearing Aid Hate List:

1. Noise distortion.
A) Over--amplification in frequency ranges where I don't need it.
B) Under-amplification in the frequency ranges where I need it.
C) Over-amplified noise drowning out the under-amplified sounds I need to hear.

2. Discomfort-
A) Too much stuff in, on, around the ears.
B) Plugged up feeling inside the ears.
C) Weight hanging over ears.
D) Soreness of molds where rubbing inside the ears.
E) Sweaty when hot.
F) Stickiness after wearing for awhile.

3. Whistling like a teapot at all the wrong times. (Is there ever a right time for that piercing squeal we all know as the dreaded "feedback"? Have any of you ever been sitting quietly in your book group trying to listen to the discussion when someone says, "What's that . . NOISE?" The room becomes deadly quiet as the others cock their ears like hunting Labradors. Then one of them points to you. "It's HER!" she yelps accusingly. They all stare in disbelief as you tootle away. You've been caught again-- disrupting the book group with inappropriate noises.) FEEDBACK.

4. I can't hear anyway.

5. Why do they cost so much?!?

What's on YOUR hate list? CI wearers feel free to chime in even though you have different issues.

My Friend's Hands

Yesterday a deaf friend came over to check out my son's waterbed that we're planning to drain and dispose of since he's moving into a college dorm soon (whoopee!). I haven't been practicing ASL enough, and I'd forgotten how wonderful it is to have someone sign a word when you need a repeat, instead of asking them to say it over and over and over again. Even though we talked orally, we automatically signed most the time too. That was so nice for me because I'm not fluent enough to depend totally on ASL, though I could communicate with her in ASL for a couple hours without speaking last spring. I'm just SO out of practice now!! I don't hear well enough to depend on my ears anymore either. I CAN of course, because I have to, since my family and most of my friends are hearing, but lipreading (speechreading) is so much work. What a relief to be around someone who signs! I guess that's the problem with being late-deafened. If I had been born deaf I would be more proficient in ASL, and have more deaf friends, but I wasn't. After awhile I even took out my hearing aids, which I hate wearing.

It was also really nice connecting with her because I haven't seen her for a long time, and I've missed her. I haven't seen any other deaf people in awhile either. I showed her the results of my new audiogram. She's one of the few people I know who can look at it and actually understand what it means. Our audiograms are almost alike, but now that mine has taken another dive she says she thinks my hearing is worse. She was born with her hearing loss, so her hearing is more stable than mine.

We discussed cochlear implants, a local deaf club's new webpage, and another local club's picnic. We thought it would be nice to have a get-together with all the deaf/late-deaf people we know in the area, and talked about deaf people we had not seen in awhile who we would like to see again. . .and so on. Then, she looked at my video phone because it wasn't working and promised to send an email with the name of someone who could troubleshoot it. I had recently been to the DVR and she had just made an appointment to go there. We discussed what they offer to people with hearing loss, the ADA laws, how to get accommodations at work, etc. These are the kinds of things I don't/can't talk to hearing people about, and I crave this. I think I've mentioned before the support I get from my deaf friends is my lifeline, not that I love hearing friends less. A couple have even offered to take ASL with me, which made me tear up a little.

I've made a mental note to prioritize registering for ASL classes at the nearby community college this fall, so I can stay more involved. (I have taken three basic ASL immersion classes from the Hearing, Speech and Deafness Cntr.) Between that and the belly dancing I'll be gone three nights a week. But I feel it's imperative to stay in touch with deaf friends, which I can't do if I can't communicate with them.