In late October Nigel and I were on holiday in Ethiopia. It was a group holiday, which isn’t a great idea when you are really struggling with your hearing, but it had been booked and paid for prior to the hearing decline of 2017 described in earlier posts. Overall, we had a fantastic time, but mealtimes were a nightmare. I could talk to one person at a time in a quiet location, but when other people joined the conversation I was lost. Put me round a table with a dozen people chatting to each other and it was utterly hopeless.
One lunchtime, it all became too much. I was desperately trying to get a foothold in the conversation…..well actually not even that….things started to go badly wrong when I tried to order a soft drink. I wanted a Coke, but the waiter seemed to be saying they didn’t have any, so I said I’d have a mineral water. Nigel asked why I’d asked for water when he thought I wanted a Coke. “Because they don’t have any”, I said, but, just then, Cokes started arriving for other people. The waiter had been saying they didn’t have Diet Cokes. This was obviously not the end of the world but, on top of days and days of misunderstandings, endless repeats and sitting mute at mealtimes, it felt like another kick in the teeth.
Still, I gathered myself together. A few minutes later I made an attempt to respond to some conversational gambit, completely misunderstood what had been said (again!) and burst into tears. Yes, readers, I cried. Of course, it’s not the first time my hearing loss has made me tearful but it’s only Nigel, or occasionally very close friends, who see it. I have never before started crying in a public place with a group of people I barely know. I’m just not a bursting-into-tears sort of person. To be honest, most of the tears on this occasion were shed in the restaurant garden, beside the toilets, whence I fled in an attempt to regain composure. My famed resilience (I’m proud of my doggedness) had gone. Just gone.
Now it’s December. A week after switch-on it was the archaeology group’s Christmas lunch. I’m a committee member of this group; archaeology and local history are big passions of mine. I’d not booked a place at the lunch, because it seemed absurdly optimistic that I could cope with a group meal so soon. However, I was keen to see my friends again (I’d missed a couple of meetings because of the operation) so I arranged to meet them at the venue for coffee. I arrived, a place at the table had been left for me, I sat down and……I started talking to people. I could talk to the people on either side of me, and the person opposite, and those at 45 degrees, even amidst the hubbub of twenty five people conversing happily away.
I couldn’t understand greetings winging their way to me from further down the table, I had to ask for some repeats and I was lip reading BUT people said things to me and I correctly deciphered them and said sensible things back. I had quite long conversations, about fairly complicated things. Believe me this is the most massive breakthrough (just compare Ethiopia). Coming only a week after switch on it was extraordinary.
Back home, I’ve got lots of homework to do. Some of the homework consists of Nigel helping me to practice differentiating certain sounds (especially the consonants I’ve not been hearing) without lip reading. So, to differentiate the “f” sound, for example, Nigel will read out a sentence including one of “say” or “safe”, or “fight” and “might”, from a long list provided by the Speech and Language Therapists, and I have to say which it is. I find it very hard work; after about 15 minutes I’m exhausted. Then there are websites providing similar exercises. These are even harder because Nigel will pronounce the words very clearly whereas the people on the websites are sometimes talking more naturally and rapidly. I suspect that my brain is also rebelling against not being able to lip read. It’s so used to lip reading I think it panics when it can’t see a face.
So there’s a long way to go yet. Nigel is still having to repeat himself quite a lot (although, we think, less than before……). In a shop with him the other day I couldn’t follow the quick chat and banter between him and the people serving us. Passing dog walkers sometimes say things that mystify me (nothing new there).
But I’ll leave you with a happy story. Last Saturday afternoon, Nigel and I were sat at the kitchen table writing Christmas cards. Interspersed with writing messages and addressing enveIopes I might say “do you have Andy and Jenny’s new address?” or “are we still sending one to your cousin Rodney?” Nigel might say “right, I’ve done these, pass me the stamps”. After a while I looked at him and said “hey, look at us, we are writing cards, and chatting, and I’m relaxed and I’m hearing you”. We had a little hug (and our eyes were a little wet). Slowly regaining the ability to do what everyone else takes for granted is the best thing of all
22 thoughts on “Can you hear me yet?”
Oh Vera…this post brought a tear to my eye…twice!
I am so happy for your improvements in your hearing, and it is wonderful to know that you are able to chat more with Nigel, and feel relaxed…I love the thought of the scene of you two chatting and writing Christmas cards…
Where you wrote about your experience of being able to sit at a table with other people talking, and being able to hear and chat with people on either side of you, and in front of you, is absolutely amazing…argh, another wet eye moment! Socializing is so difficult with hearing loss, and something that I find incredibly difficult, as I can only really concentrate on one person at a time, of they are sitting very close to me on my hearing side….I am overjoyed for you to be able to take part in these types of situations. 😊😊
Enjoy all these new experiences Vera! – I’m sure you will!
Lots of love
I’m starting to feel a bit guilty that so many good things are happening. Hang on in there Carly.
No no, don’t be silly!!!!! Enjoy every one of them!!! I am so happy to read your story Vera – it’s a story of hope 🙂
You are an inspiration to us all. Thank you so much.
Thank YOU Jen, for following and being so supportive.
Just love hearing about your experiences. You really are an inspiration with your positivity, honesty and humour.
Merry Christmas and a happy 2018!
And to you Heather!
You’ve come a long way in short time. Imagine how far you can go in 2018!
Best wishes to you and Nigel. have a wonderful Christmas and I hope that 2018 brings you the better hearing that you deserve.
Very best wishes to you too, Ian, and thanks for all your support.
I’m so glad it’s still going well since switch-on.
Merry Christmas! Todd
And to you, Karen, Emma and Justine
Happy Christmas Vera, I am sure your hearing will improve in the New Year and you will keep us all updated with you wonderful blog
Thanks Pat. Merry Christmas.
you are doing well, the New Year will bring more sounds to you! Happy Christmas!
Thank you for your blog Vera and Merry Christmas to you and Nigel. Your writings have made it so much easier for me to explain to my family the challenges that CI recipient faces. I worry sometimes that they think I purposely ignore them or pretend not to understand.
Have a wonderful New Year.
Thank you Mike. It’s very hard to explain what deafness is like, I find, so I’m glad if I’ve helped. Sometimes I think that if we are doing well, and hearing things, people think the problem has been solved, so when (the next time) we miss something they can’t understand what’s happened. Hope you have a great Christmas and very best wishes for the New Year.
Thank you Josie. Your support and cheery comments are a big help. Merry Christmas to you too.
So pleased for for you. May you find new sounds each day and continue to inspire the rest of us.
Thank you Anne. Have a lovely Christmas.
Hurray! Have a wonderful Christmas and a new year full of new and exciting sounds. Thank you for including me in your totally inspiring and incredibly positive blog. Sue
Thank you so much Sue. Best wishes to you, too, for a great Christmas and a happy New Year.