Accepting Accomodations: Day One

October 29
Hello from Orlando. I'm starting this post on a computer available at the conference center. At the airport my family got our first surprise when we had to pay $15 to check our bags. What? Since when did this fee come into effect? Thanks, American Airlines.

My first day here has been so overwhelming. Looking back, it probably wasn't a good idea to fly in late the evening before, get up early, and try to face a new and challenging situation... My second surprise of the trip is that the Orange County Convention Center is huge. It just goes on and on. Note to self: next time pack rollerskates! After I located some coffee, I was ready for the opening session. Following the email instructions I had received, I approached a staffer with a radio and asked for directions to seating for the hearing impaired. Unfortunately, there were a lot of people entering at the same time and we were all sort of herded along and I didn't find the assigned seating section. Fortunately, though, there was seating available in the front where the volume was good. Even better the speaker was displayed on enormous video screens making lipreading a breeze. So far so good.

For the second session in a much smaller room, I found the sign for my reserved seat located right in front of the speaker podium. Funnily though, the lady who made the introduction of the three panelists was short. All I could see of her face over the open laptop on the podium was her eyes. tee hee. Fortunately the male panelists were taller and I could see their faces with no problem. But...the second speaker had a very soft voice! I was just reaching for my Pocket Talker when another audience member asked him to please speak into the microphone. Ahh, much better.

Session three had my assigned seat not in the front row but about row four. Strangely it was located right next to the slide projector. Grrr, now I had to deal with that noise competing with the female speaker's voice. I used my Pocket Talker to boost her volume but I could still hear that projector. This session was one that I thought would best relate to my new job but it turned out to be completely unrelated. Drat.

After lunch, I went to a session held in a computer lab setting. I made a switch to attend this one so I knew there would be no reserved seat for me. When I entered the room, I asked the speaker where would be a good seat to sit to hear well. He told me he would be moving around the room, so I decided to sit on the aisle halfway back. As it turned out, he did not move but stayed in the front. Fortunately he had a good strong speaking voice and I was able to hear him alright. His female colleague, who said very little during the presentation, had a very soft voice so I just ignored her contributions. This session was also challenging because we were seated in front of laptops and expected to be logging in to websites and posting contributions to a group discussion all the while listening to the speaker. Yikes. I struggled with typing on an unfamiliar keyboard let alone thinking of something worthwhile to contribute. I did my best to multitask but I'm sure I missed some of this speaker's presentation.

Back at the hotel that evening, I rejoined my family and heard about their exciting day at Universal Studios. We went out to dinner at the hotel restaurant which featured Caribbean food. My salmon dinner came with a flower! How lovely. There was one funny moment at dinner when my son talked about "barrels flying in" through the open door when he and my husband ate breakfast there that morning. What? Oh my bad, not barrels but sparrows. Day One is over.

My Assistive Listening Device

This is my assistive listening device, a Pockettalker Pro by Williams Sound. If you are new to hearing loss, you may wonder why a hearing aid wearer would want an assistive listening device (ALD). Aren't hearing aids alone enough? Well, yes and no. I bought my ALD to help me out at the reference desk. I still struggle with people who whisper or speak in low tones. The Pockettalker works with my hearing aids and boosts sound with its own microphone. What I like best is that it has a dial on it so I can adjust the volume up and down, something I'm unable to do with my hearing aids. This model has a clip so I can attach it to my clothing when I need to walk from the reference desk to a computer terminal to help a library patron. You'll also notice that I bought mine with a neckloop which I can hide discreetly under my clothing.
Last month I brought my Pockettalker along when I went to a library training meeting at a hotel conference room. I was glad I did when the group of people I went with decided to sit in the middle of the room rather than the front which would have been my first choice. The ALD worked well with the sound system in the room and I had no trouble hearing the speakers. Unfortunately, whenever someone at the table opened the top on a soft drink bottle I also heard that noise too at a startlingly loud volume. Well, nothing's perfect, right?
Those are the only uses I've found for my Pockettalker. For me it hasn't been helpful at movie theatres or at home watching TV. I'm planning to take it to Florida with me as a backup in case the accomodations I requested don't work out.
Do you have an assistive listening device that works well for you?

Asking for Accommodation

I've asked for an accomodation for the conference I'm attending next week. This is a new experience for me. When I attended my first ever library conference in Washington DC last April, I didn't make my needs known. I coped by sitting in the front or close by a loudspeaker. I managed but found it very tiring. My coworker, mentor, and friend Diane advised me that next week's conference would be a much larger affair with many more people in attendance. With that in mind, I marked the box on the registration form that indicated I am hearing impaired and may need an assistive listening device.

Soon afterwards, I received an email from the Director for Conferences and Educational Activities. She asked what type of device I needed. I wasn't sure how to answer that question so I explained that my hearing aids had T-coils and a device that was compatible with that would work for me. The Director also inquired if I needed an interpreter. No, I replied, I don't know sign language. Another question of hers was if I needed assistance with transportation to and from the conference. That puzzled me a bit. Did she think I would have trouble communicating with a taxi or shuttle bus driver? Fortunately my hotel is within walking distance from the convention center, so I confidently replied that transportation would be no problem for me.

My next communication from the director said that an onsite AV company could set up systems in the session rooms I'd be attending. They would provide me with a wireless beltpack with headphones. I was also offered the opportunity to reserve a seat for the sessions I'd be attending. All I needed to do was tell her which of the many workshops available I wanted to attend. I had already created a schedule for myself so it was no problem to forward her that information.

Then I got to wondering, was I creating too much of a problem? Were my needs really that great that someone should go to this trouble for me? My personality style is to keep a low profile and not draw attention to myself. Asking for accomodation felt slightly uncomfortable. Then I remembered how tired I was at the conference in April and thought of how using an assistive listening device could make my experience in Orlando much easier. I thought of how by voicing my needs, I was validating the fact that hard of hearing people can have professional lives and benefit from attending conferences that will help them in their careers just like their hearing colleagues. Okay, I was good on that part. Then worrywart that I am, I wondered if now that I was expecting accomodation, what if it failed to happen? I decided to bring my own personal assistive listening device along just in case.

This morning I received a very nice email stating that reserved seating would be available for me in as many sessions as possible. I was directed to where the seating would be available for the general session which everyone attends. For the featured sessions, I was told to look for seating in the front marked with a sign "Reserved Hearing/Sight Impaired". That sounded good to me.

I'll be sure to write afterwards about how my experience with accepting an accomodation turns out and how I was treated at the conference. Meanwhile if you have any helpful advice or a similar experience to share, I'd love to read your comment.

Something to Look Forward to: An Evening of Accessible Theatre

I'm so excited! My new friend Julie and I are going to a closed captioned theatre performance of Eurydice at Victory Gardens Theatre, Chicago next month.


I've been a theatre buff all my life. My parents took me to community theatre productions when I was a kid. Linda, my best friend from library school, and I once went to Stratford, Canada for their Shakespeare Festival. That weekend we saw three plays: The Gondoliers, Amadeus, and A Comedy of Errors. We were part of a tour group so I prepared by reading all the scripts in advance and finding out what the critics had to say. I wanted to be able to discuss the plays intelligently with the others on the long bus ride to Canada. Linda and I really enjoyed ourselves on that trip! Before my son was born, my husband and I used to attend a dinner theatre where you could enjoy a great meal and then watch a play or musical afterwards. Sadly, that theatre closed. Two years ago, to celebrate both of us turning the big four-oh, Linda and I drove down to Indianapolis to see Underneath the Lintel, a one man play about a librarian who travels the globe to solve a mystery.

That memorable event was about six months before I was diagnosed with hearing loss. Since then, I haven't been to a play. I considered going to one with a church group, but I hesitated wondering if I would enjoy it or simply find it tiring trying to follow the dialogue. I let that opportunity pass by. Now I'm excited that I will be able to enjoy a play the same way I enjoy a film -using captions.

Through the Victory Gardens Access Project this theatre offers productions that are accessible in three different ways.

There is sign language interpretation for ASL users.

There is closed captioning for the hearing impaired like me.

For the blind there is audio description.

I'll be sure to tell you all about our evening come November. For another blogger's experience with captioned opera, read Kim's recent post.

Casper the Friendly Coffee Urn and Other Mysteries

I've been thinking about Tania's blog entry about how she is starting to discover new sounds with her cochlear implant. Sounds she was unaware of before and now must learn to identify - such as the gurgling sound gas makes when it runs through the pump into your car's fuel tank.

I'm actually having the opposite experience these days and I wonder if that's normal with hearing loss. I have a couple of recent examples to explain what I mean. The other day I was sitting in the kitchen with my husband and I became aware of this low buzzing sound. I thought it was coming from the kitchen sink area and I couldn't imagine what it was. I commented on it to my husband. He replied, "No, that's the computer in the living room." I had turned on said computer about five minutes beforehand but even so wasn't convinced my husband was right in this case. I said, "No, I really think it's coming from over there." When I got up to investigate, sure enough, my husband was right. [a reversal of Do You Believe Me Now? Tee hee.]

I was shocked that my sense of direction with sound was so far off! But that's happening more and more to me lately. It's especially bothersome in the car when someone honks their horn. I hear the horn but have no idea which direction it came from and if it was meant for me! Is losing your sense of direction with sound normal?

Another time I was sitting on the couch with a friend when I heard the strangest noise. "What's that?" I asked. My friend reassured me that it was just the sofa springs squeaking. In that case I couldn't believe the sound was so close by and it was really embarassing not to recognize such a common sound.

Photo credit

Early yesterday morning, I had an amusing experience with a truly mysterious sound at a soccer game. I was working alone at the concession stand when one of the other parent helpers brought out a large coffee urn and plugged it into an extension cord near me. Ooooohhhh, whooohh. Ghostly sounds started to emanate from the pot. I put my head right next to it to be sure it was coming from there.

The PTO Lady in Charge stopped by and thought the situation was quite funny. Aware of my hearing loss she asked me if I could hear it. I said, "Yes....Is it loud?". "It's noticeable," she replied tactfully. One of the other soccer moms hanging around said, "I couldn't stand to sit next to that. It would drive me crazy!" I responded, "I guess I'm the perfect person to sit here then!"

Commenting on why the coffee urn was moaning so weirdly, Lady in Charge speculated that the pot had been used for so many funerals (my son goes to a church school) that the spirits had gathered inside. Hmmmm. As for me, I found it really friendly sitting next to Casper the coffee urn. He talked to me more than the other parents did! Once the sun started shining on us an hour later he quieted down. Lady in Charge decided that proved her theory on the spirits.

So readers, what do you think? Is losing the ability to identify common sounds part of normal hearing loss? Have you ever experienced not knowing which direction a sound is coming from?

My Hearing Loss and My Son

The person who's been most affected by my hearing loss has to be my son. He's the one who talks about the most unexpected things leaving me in a daze. He's the one with the longest stories told in an excited manner that leave me lost somewhere in the middle. He's the one who helps me out in public places when I don't quite catch what a shop clerk or another customer is saying. He's the one who has to repeat himself the most often. Sometimes when I'm stuck on a word he will resort to fingerspelling it as only a frustrated pre-teen can do.

Sometimes he turns the situation around to his advantage. Last April 1, we had the following dinner table conversation. Charlie: "Is your sinus infection better, Mom?" Me: "I think so." Charlie: "Mom, I said is your science infection better?" Me puzzled: "Huh?" Charlie with a smile: "April Fool!"

He also likes to give me spontaneous tests. Charlie: "Mom, tell me what two words I'm saying." Me: "OK." Then I hear him say ah and ah. Charlie responds to my reply: "Wrong! I said off and toff" (fingerspelling both for emphasis). Me: "Toff?" Charlie knowingly: "Short for toffee." [Note: You can see he's well aware that t's and f's give me trouble.]



The other day I told him about a four eared cat I saw in People magazine. His comeback was "I bet that cat hears real good!"


Clean Tubes

Yesterday I went to the audiologist to get my hearing aids' ear tubes replaced. This has to be done about once every 3-4 months. In the last week I had noticed a reduction in my hearing ability probably due to ear wax accumulation. Soon afterwards the tip of one of the eartubes started breaking apart. Time to call the audiologist. When I got home from my appointment, I mentioned to Charlie that I had new tubes. He decided to give me one of his tests. This time I could easily discern between his ah and his off. Then when I was across the room from him, he gave me another challenge: uh and the. I got it right again. "Hooray!" he cheered, "you can hear better again."

My Personal Journey Towards Deaf Awareness

Photo credit

September 21, 2008 begins Deaf Awareness Week in the United States. Whether this is an outdated concept or not, I thought I would reflect on my personal journey towards Deaf awareness.

My general nature is to be rather oblivious until forced into awareness by a change in my circumstances. For example, once I became pregnant I suddenly noticed pregnant women everywhere. Where had they been hiding before? After my son was born and I started pushing him around the neighborhood in the stroller I noticed that the sidewalks were in terrible condition.

Regarding my hearing loss, it's possible I had been experiencing it for years without realizing anything was wrong. Naturally I just assumed everyone heard the way I did. But not hearing an emergency door alarm that everyone else could hear jolted me into awareness that something was wrong. Thus began my journey into Deaf awareness.


As a child I learned how to fingerspell "hello". That's all the sign language I knew before 2007. Taking an introductory sign language course taught me that ASL is not "English in the air" but a beautiful language all its own complete with regional signs. Attending a deaf theatre event I learned to wave my hands in the air to signal approval rather than clap. Going to church services that offered deaf interpretation, I discovered I love to sing praise songs with my hands.


I began seeking out movies with deaf characters. My favorite film of all is Beyond Silence. The scene where the song "I Will Survive" is signed by Tom to Lara gets me every time. This film is German and is subtitled. I was able to order it through my public library and I recommend it highly to you. Other movies I have enjoyed are the better known Children of a Lesser God and Mr. Holland's Opus.


In addition to seeing films, I also wanted to read books with hard of hearing and deaf characters. You can find reviews of some of these on my blog. One book that totally tore me up is In This Sign by Joanne Greenberg. Words fail me on it but you can read reviews of it at Amazon.


I went online to learn more. A wonderful source is DeafRead where d/Deaf bloggers/vloggers write or sign about their personal experiences. I have learned so much there! For example, deaf and Deaf are not the same. I am proud to be included as a blogger about the experience of a late deafened person.

Before I became late deafened/hearing impaired/hard of hearing/fill in your own label, I thought that to be deaf meant someone could hear no sound at all. Total quiet. Now I know there is a spectrum of deafness with degrees ranging from mild to moderate to severe to profound hearing loss. But the underlying reality is that to be deaf means to not be able to rely upon one's ears to accurately comprehend speech. A hearing aid, an assistive listening device, a cochlear implant, or sign language are needed to enable successful communication.


Sadly, I've learned on the Deaf awarness journey that some people will use my difficulty in hearing against me. To fight this, I've learned to use humor to my advantage. It's okay to laugh with me, believe me my life produces lots of humor these days, but don't laugh at me behind my back! Most importantly, I've learned that life with hearing difficulties doesn't stop communication. There are many ways to connect with others and it's vital to stay in touch.

Where the road leads next I do not know. I have so much more to learn.


Photo by CATeyes. Used with permission.

The Hearing Loss Connection

Julie & me at Hearing Loss Support Group picnic

Last weekend there was torrential rain in my area. This Saturday was sunny and perfect weather for enjoying the outdoors. The Hearing Loss Support Group in my area had a picnic outing planned for a nearby park.

I had marked this event on my calendar and RSVPed the day I got the invitation. I was resolved to go and make new friends. I was looking forward to it. Right up until it was time to get in the car that is. Then I got nervous. I had been to a support group meeting only once before and that was six months ago. Would any of the people I had met that day be at the picnic? Would I be able to make small talk with people I didn't know?

I decided I needed a companion. I was already bringing my son but I knew he would abandon me once he met any other kid. No, I wanted someone who would stay close. Who would be available at this last minute? Aha! I would bring Rusty my sweet natured golden retriever who loves to meet new people. Everyone would want to pet his soft fur and it would be easy for me to talk about him. He would be the perfect ice breaker.

When we got to the park, the first person I saw was Julie. I had met her at the previous meeting. She was also new to the group. I went right up to her and got started socializing.

About twenty-five to thirty people were at the picnic. Some were born deaf and communicate in sign language. Others have had cochlear implants and speak. Several people there were hard of hearing like me and wore hearing aids. There was one man there who is studying ASL possibly to be an interpreter someday. The rest were hearing relatives of group members. I got the chance to meet almost everyone.

I had varying degrees of success with communicating. A year ago I had taken a beginning ASL class and signs started coming back to me as I watched others signing. But of course there were many signs I didn't understand. I ended up nodding my head in agreement when I wasn't exactly sure what had been expressed. That was very frustrating for me. One time someone was signing to me about my dog and I thought he signed orange. No, he had actually used the sign for age. Oops. Interestingly, my best conversations were those that combined speech with sign. As the afternoon wore on, I started incorporating signs into my conversations even when communicating with people who could hear. It just felt natural to be signing whenever I knew the right sign for what I was saying.

Rusty was a big hit at the picnic. Most of the people there have had a dog in their lives at some time. Rusty was well behaved as usual and loved all the attention he received. My son Charlie hit it off with Julie's son and another boy there about his age. I only saw him when it was time to eat and time to leave. He was off playing the rest of the time just as I had predicted. His social skills are much better than mine!

In coming to terms with my hearing loss, I have became aware of how often I avoid socializing in groups. That could be partly my personality but it is probably also caused by my trouble with keeping up with group conversation. I'm perceived as being quiet because I don't talk much as I'm usually a beat behind everyone else. Nowadays, I only feel comfortable being in group conversation with my closest friends. That's why coming out to a social event like this was an important step out of my comfort zone. I'm glad I took the risk, though, because the people I met today were welcoming, friendly, and interesting. I look forward to interacting with them again and getting to know them better.

My New Job Description: More Digital & More Deaf Friendly

In the beginning of August, I was unexpectedly transferred from my library's Information Organization Department aka Cataloging to the Library Technology & Digital Resources Department. This was a lateral transfer so no additional salary was involved (drat!) but my family friendly work hours would remain the same (hooray!).

More Digital
My new responsibilities involve metadata cataloging for digital and electronic library resources. While I was looking on the web to learn more about metadata, I came across this short video I want to share with you. It does a great job of explaining the challenges of organizing information in the digital environment. I like that the film uses a familiar library setting in the beginning to explain basic assumptions about information, then moves to the web to show how these assumptions play out online. This video was directed by Michael Wensch and has no subtitles. For my deaf readers be assured that all the essential information is portrayed visually. The audio contains only background music. Something else I liked!



So now my job no longer involves dealing with books on carts. I definitely don't miss dealing with the dusty books and government pamphlets that needed to be withdrawn from the collection and discarded. However, it's quite a transition from completing a task when all the materials on a cart have been processed to having ongoing projects that are mainly web-based. People from other departments in the library wonder just what I'm working on!

As fate would have it, this week I went to a training session on "Technical Services Workflow" with several others from the library. The two speakers at the workshop emphasized the importance of downplaying a library's work on their print collection and instead moving staff and workflow towards having electronic resources be the priority of the library's collection. I felt so good when I heard that. I'd say my library director must have known what she was doing when she transferred me! Secretly, I was also glad that my colleagues heard this information too.

More Deaf Friendly
Part of the transfer process involved rewriting my job description to reflect my new responsibilities. I took advantage of this opportunity to make my job description more deaf friendly. What do I mean? Take a look at the wording of my previous job's physical characteristics requirements: I was shocked by the "hear a normal speaking voice". When I started working at the library I was unaware of or not yet experiencing my hearing loss so I paid no attention to that part. Of course, now it's a different story and I didn't want that part included in my new job description. I checked my new coworker's job description and hers didn't say it so I was pretty sure that mine didn't need to.

Since my library director is aware of my hearing loss, I talked it over with her and said that I wanted my new job description written so that I would be able to perform it for many years to come. I explained that if my hearing loss worsened and I became unable to work at the reference desk, I would be willing to offer virtual reference service through instant messaging and email. At first she misunderstood and thought that I was trying to get out of working the reference desk now. I said no, that wasn't what I meant. I want to continue in person and telephone reference service as long as I am able. Nevertheless, it was important to me to write my job description in an enabling manner and that meant leaving off the part about "hear a normal speaking voice". We reached agreement on this point. If I become completely deaf, I can still perform my job as written. That's progress.

Web 2.0 and Why D/deaf Blogging Matters

Because I work at a university library, part of my job involves teaching workshops. Last winter I began teaching online for the first time. My coworker Diane and I created a course designed to train our library's staff on web 2.0 tools like blogs, wikis, social networking sites, and more. A local public library director also took the course. He liked it so much he wanted to make it available to his staff. Diane and I were happy to do that as we had learned so much as novice online instructors. We were eager to create a new and improved version of the course and we offered it this past July-August.

In the summer course one of our students posted the video below to our online discussion on YouTube. In a very thought provoking way this video titled "The Machine is Us/ing Us" explains what web 2.0 is about in less than 5 minutes. For my deaf readers I want to reassure you that it's not captioned because it doesn't need to be. The soundtrack is only instrumental music. All the information you need is visual. Check it out and then read below for my further thoughts on the video's message.



I was really struck by the video's assertion that we are teaching "the machine" [ourselves] every time we participate in social networking online. I immediately wanted to read the entire article that the video highlights briefly. I found it in Wired magazine's August 2005 issue. Wired 13.08: We Are the Web

The premise of the article is that in 1995 we couldn't have imagined what the Internet was to become in 10 years time. Here's a section of the article I found fascinating (keep in mind the article is now 3 years old):

"The scope of the Web today is hard to fathom. The total number of Web pages, including those that are dynamically created upon request and document files available through links, exceeds 600 billion. That's 100 pages per person alive.

How could we create so much, so fast, so well? In fewer than 4,000 days, we have encoded half a trillion versions of our collective story and put them in front of 1 billion people, or one-sixth of the world's population. That remarkable achievement was not in anyone's 10-year plan...

No Web phenomenon is more confounding than blogging. Everything media experts knew about audiences - and they knew a lot - confirmed the focus group belief that audiences would never get off their butts and start making their own entertainment. Everyone knew writing and reading were dead; music was too much trouble to make when you could sit back and listen; video production was simply out of reach of amateurs. Blogs and other participant media would never happen, or if they happened they would not draw an audience, or if they drew an audience they would not matter. What a shock, then, to witness the near-instantaneous rise of 50 million blogs, with a new one appearing every two seconds. There - another new blog! One more person doing what AOL and ABC - and almost everyone else - expected only AOL and ABC to be doing. These user-created channels make no sense economically. Where are the time, energy, and resources coming from? The audience."


In my job I see people interact with computers every day at my library. (The photo at left shows half of my library's computer area.) With a little imagination, I can see all these blank screens as windows into the human experience. If as the author of the article and the producer of the video believe, we are truly teaching the "machine" [each other] by blogging about our unique experience as a human on this particular planet in this specific era, then our blogging is important. The "machine" needs to know what it's like to be D/deaf or hard of hearing. Who can teach it? We can by blogging our stories, our opinions, our disappointments, and our dreams. Don't be afraid to add your voice to the online chorus. The "machine's" [our] education will be incomplete without you.

Dear Readers

When I put myself out on cyberspace via a personal blog, I wondered who in the world would be reading my posts. At first it seemed that no one was reading them or even aware that my blog existed. I had to twist the arms of friends and family members to take a look and plead for them to leave a comment. With their encouragement and the support of another blogger, I added my blog to DeafRead, a blog aggregator. That really boosted my readership.

Becoming part of DeafRead also made me aware of how many terrific blog writers there are on the subject of hearing loss. I actually started my blog because I wanted to create a site with the kind of information I was desperate for when I first learned I had a hearing loss. I wanted to know if what I was experiencing was "normal" LOL. There was no one I knew personally that I could ask and I hated to keep pestering my audiologist when I came in for my appointments. I also wanted to share the funny stories my adjustment to life with hearing loss and hearing aids seemed to generate.

When comments started to appear on my blog, I was thrilled. There were people out there who understood, who could laugh with me, and even better, educate and inspire me.

Once I made an email address available, I received some personal notes from readers. So far I have heard from a library school student, another hard of hearing librarian, a late deafened adult who has had a positive experience with life after hearing loss, a fellow headache sufferer and hearing aid wearer, and a doctoral student in audiology. I've enjoyed corresponding with them all.

Several weeks ago I hit a personal low and deleted my blog. I was really surprised how disappointed some people were. At least the ones who could tell me that to my face! Thankfully, I got my act together and decided to see if I could salvage some of my favorite posts and rebuild what I could and start fresh.

Dear readers, this blog would not be worth the screen time without you. Thank you for sharing this journey with me.

Should I Say Something Or Let the Opportunity Pass By?

Recently I had two conversations with strangers about hearing loss. Both took place at work and in each instance I wondered if it was appropriate to broach the subject.

Right outside the library's technical services department is an elevator being repaired. At various times throughout the day a loud drilling sound can be heard. Behind closed doors and at quite a distance from it I am still aware of the sound. I wondered what it would be like to be the one doing the drilling in such an enclosed space. One afternoon I passed the elevator repairman and asked him, "Do you wear ear protection?" At first I think he thought I was joking. After I explained that I had a hearing loss and he could see I was serious, he replied that he did not because he hadn't considered the noise to be that loud. After some more thought, he told me that his mother was hard of hearing and that perhaps he ought to be more careful with his hearing. I walked away thinking possibly my question had done some good.

The next day in the university cafeteria I noticed someone new at the cashier's station. A middle-aged man with plastic tubes in his ears. Hmmm. I wondered if they were attached to BTEs like the ones I wear. I always have trouble hearing in the noisy serving area and I wondered if this was a problem for him too. When it was my turn to pay, I asked him, if he had BTEs like the ones I wear, lifting my hair so he could see them clearly. "Yes," he replied. He went on to say that he had no difficulty hearing in the cafeteria and that he enjoyed wearing hearing aids. He was amazed at all the sounds he could now hear that he had missed without realizing it. One example he mentioned was being able to hear his dog panting. We got rather involved in our conversation and the person behind me in line moved to another cashier. Oops. My only excuse is that it was wonderful meeting someone else in the same situation.

Usually the only people I spot wearing hearing aids are elderly. Occasionally I have considered talking to them about hearing aids and hearing loss but have always decided against it. When I'm at a stoplight and another driver pulls up with a car stereo blaring away, I often think of saying something about how noise affects hearing. I'm not the only one as Cindy explains in this story.

When is it okay to discuss hearing loss and/or hearing aids with a stranger? Is it better to let the opportunity pass by out of politeness or is it worth the risk of embarrassment if you can perhaps educate someone or make a new friend?

Strange but True

Originally posted on October 23, 2007.
It finally happened. Ever since the day the library's emergency exit door alarm went off and I couldn't hear it to turn it off, I've wondered what would happen if an alarm sounded on my shift again. It happened but it turned out different than I ever imagined.

I was alone at the reference desk when I became aware of a mechanical voice saying "elevators". I listened closer. This time I made out the phrase "do not use elevators". Hmmm. Just outside the library's entrance one of the university's elevators was under construction to the accompaniment of loud drilling. Did the elevator repairmen set off an alarm? I went to check with the circulation staff as their desk is located closest to the entrance. They said they hadn't heard an alarm message and to check with the director. I went to the director's office area. I found her standing next to the photocopier with a large stack of papers going through the feeder. She hadn't heard anything either. Strange. I returned to the reference area and could hear the entire message this time - an alarm was sounding and the building needed to be evacuated! I started informing the patrons at the computer terminals that they needed to leave. None of them had registered an alarm. One patron said she had thought the sound was just someone's cellphone ringing (which isn't too far off base not counting the message part of course). By this time staff members and patrons from other parts of the library were filing out to the front door. Having verified the alarm, the director came to help me get the stragglers in the reference area to leave. There was still one woman gathering up her belongings when patrons and staff members returned with the all clear message.

Fortunately, it was not a real emergency but only a false alarm. I never found out if it was caused by the elevator repair crew or not. Most important, I can sleep at night knowing the library is safe with me on duty. I would never have imagined that I as SpeakUp Librarian would be the only one to be aware of the alarm. Real life- it really is stranger than fiction.

In and Out

I have a love/hate relationship with my hearing aids. I love that some days I feel as though I could “pass” for hearing. On those lucky days, I blithely manage conversations with store clerks and other strangers. I don’t make any obvious blunders and I don’t betray myself with a puzzled expression on my face. On those occasions, my little coping strategies help me make it through the day smoothly.

Then there are the days of pure hate for the blasted things. Days when no matter how much I spent on them, they don’t magically make me into the hearing person I long to be. Days when it seems as if everyone around me is speaking in hushed tones rather than normal volume. Days when someone tells a long, complicated story that I can’t follow and I feel stupid and slow. Days of unexpected turns of phrase or unfamiliar word combinations.

Other times, I just honestly hate how much louder everything around me is with hearing aids. As my audiologist said, I like it quiet. What bliss it is to take them out and relax in the “muffled” quality of my natural hearing. Choosing not to “hear” for awhile and allowing myself to tune out for a needed break.

The movie Read My Lips illustrates this beautifully. Carla, a secretary, who is hearing impaired and an excellent lip reader, wears hearing aids to cope with the demands of the office, particularly the telephone. On her coffee break, she removes her hearing aids ---ahhh--- a true break from the clamor.

Book Review: Talk, Talk

I just finished reading Talk, Talk by T.C. Boyle. This book is a thriller that explores the question of what someone might do if their identity were stolen. Dana is a deaf teacher who finds herself pulled over by a police officer when she rolls past a stop sign on her way to the dentist. A bad situation becomes a nightmare when the officer arrests her and takes her to jail. With the help of a translater she learns she has been charged for crimes she never committed. Once the mistaken identity is cleared up, she is released from prison but finds she can't let her anger go. She can't leave it up to the police to apprehend the thief and bring him to justice. She must go after the man who has caused her so much trouble. How far will she go and what price is she willing to pay for revenge?

Dana is not alone in her quest. Her hearing boyfriend, Bridger, is literally along for the ride as Dana chases the thief from California to New York. Their relationship faces difficult odds as most deaf/hearing couples don't make it. Will this trial bring them closer or tear them apart?

Talk Talk spoke to so many fears of mine like vulnerability, identity theft, communication struggles, and relationship worries that I was compelled to turn the pages and find out what happens to Dana and Bridger even as I bit my own nails in empathy.

Spelling It Out

October 2007
I had a patron call me for help with his library account number. I said I'd be happy to look it up and asked for his name. He very helpfully spelled out his surname with examples for each letter (ex: V as in victor). I was so pleased with this that I complimented him. Then he told me his first name "ghteyr". Uh oh. That wasn't clear at all. I asked him to repeat it. He said the same thing again "Ghteyr". I swallowed my pride and asked him if he could spell it for me.
G-a-r-y. Oh. Then he says something about having allergies and apologizes for not speaking clearly. At that point I had to fess up and tell him that I have trouble hearing. Why is it so hard for me to admit that?

Another habit I've been forced to adopt at the reference desk is to write out each request I receive by telephone. This takes longer but has saved me so many times. People just naturally rattle off long titles or title plus author plus publisher information expecting me as the librarian to get it all immediately. When I used to type directly into the computer I often made mistakes. Writing down the information, naturally I only get part of it. Then I read that part back to my patron and ask for the rest of the information again. I have never had anyone complain about this technique. I think patrons realize I really want to help them when I take a little extra time to get their request right the first time.

People Who Get It

Someone recently handed me an audiobook on CD saying "I think you'll like this story." I was less than enthusiastic as I have never enjoyed listening to audiobooks. My mind just drifts away and I lose track of the storyline. Now that I'm aware of my hearing loss, I was sure it would be just too much "work" to grasp the story without any visual input. Nevertheless, I put it in my CD player and started listening to the story. Within 10 minutes I had given up on the narrator's unsuccessful attempt at a Southern accent and I was returning the CD to my friend.

I have another friend who really gets that I have trouble hearing. Diane always speaks clearly and with the necessary volume. If she wants to tell me something, she gets my attention first. On top of that, she has taken a class on sign language and is willing to practice with me. Needless to say, just seeing her makes my whole day.

I came across this very reassuring passage on p. 119 of a book called Coping With Hearing Loss: Plain Talk for Adults About Losing Your Hearing by Susan V. Rezen and Carl D. Hausman: "I don’t have hearing aids at the present time. How do I tell when I really need them? Different people in different situations will vary in their need for a hearing aid. A retired person who lives alone will have very different needs than a librarian, who constantly deals with people who are speaking softly.” These authors get it. Be grateful for the people in your life who do.

Book Review: Ruffly Speaking

Originally posted: October 7, 2007. Over the weekend I read Ruffly Speaking, which features two hard of hearing characters and one hearing ear dog. This book by Susan Conant is worthy of note for its description of Rita, a middle aged woman, who has difficulty acknowledging her hearing loss and experiences a rough adjustment to hearing aids. Rita is the friend of Holly, the mystery's amateur detective. Holly is the one who convinces her to get her hearing tested and even goes so far as to try wearing Rita's hearing aids to understand what she's experiencing. The Ruffly of the title is the hearing ear dog of a female Episcopal priest. The dog's unusual behavior and the mysterious cutting out of her owner's hearing aids are all part of the strange happenings surrounding the recent death of a friend of Holly's.

This is the first novel I've come across with a hard of hearing character. I emailed author Susan Conant about Rita and found out that she is included in other books of the series but mainly as a minor character. One book that features her more prominently is Gaits of Heaven. However, in that story her hearing loss is not mentioned because she has adapted to it. Amusingly, Conant also said that readers can assume that Rita would now own the spiffy new kind of hearing aids available in a variety of colors.

Zzzzzap!

I was walking through the mall with my friend Linda recently. We live about 2 ½ hours away from each other and like to meet at a mall located halfway between us and shop until we drop. My friend Linda is something else! She can outwalk me any day of the week. This was the first time we’d met to go shopping since I began wearing my hearing aids. I wondered how it would be different now. I did pretty OK hearing her soft spoken voice in the noisy food court when we had lunch. But later on as we continued shopping, I got so tired of coping with all the loud sounds around us that I turned my hearing aids to their “T switch” setting. This is the closest to an “off” switch I’ve got without removing them altogether. Well, I promptly forgot that I had done this and was I in for a surprise when I passed through a security gate at the bookstore. Zzzzzap! I winced and probably even staggered. If it's possible I had just been "electrocuted" by sound... Linda looked at me like "What's your problem?" The problem was invisible. Ahhh....hearing aids.

This was originally posted October 5, 2007. Since then I have continued to zap myself - believe it or not. It happens most often when I walk in the vicinity of the security gates located next to the library's circulation desk and main entrance while wearing a PocketTalker (an assistive listening device). When I forget I reel back as if someone has hit me, when I remember in time I make a strange and sudden retreat from the area. I'm sure our circulation staff finds me pretty amusing at times.

That's Entertainment

Awhile back my friend Linda told me she had started watching DVDs with the subtitles feature turned on. I was surprised because she has no difficulties with hearing. She explained to me that she enjoys watching literary movies with lots of conversation and often the actors use British accents so she finds the subtitles helpful. After that conversation the next time my husband rented a DVD, I decided to try it out for myself. Wow! What a difference - I was able to relax and enjoy "reading" the movie. I had never realized how much energy and effort it took for me to try and understand movie dialogue.

If you are new to hearing loss, be sure and give captions a try. It's much better than what my family was doing before: cranking up the volume for the conversational parts and then rushing to turn it down during the action scenes.

This was originally posted: October 3, 2007. Here's an update: Since then I have become completely hooked on captions. Recently we rented two films without captions -The Last Mimsy and The Blair Witch Project. During The Last Mimsy I was constantly asking my son, "What did he/she say?" I really missed the captions. For the Blair Witch Project I got by okay since it was pretty obvious what was happening. I am very blessed that my family and friends do not mind having the captions running along the bottom of the screen during a movie. I really enjoy sharing movie time with them. We have still not purchased a television set that supports captioning so my television viewing is pretty limited.