Angie Aspinall started going deaf in one ear at the age of 30, then suffered total sudden onset hearing loss in her ‘good’ ear in 2011. Here she has listed some of the things people have said to her since she started losingher hearing…
Last week, I listed some of the things doctors have said to me since I started losing my hearing. Here are a few more, from people who are not in the medical profession…
“What’s wrong with you? Don’t you speak English?”
This was from a cobbler. I had a pair of boots that were fairly old – but I liked them. One was rubbing my heel where the lining had frayed. I’d asked if he could stitch something inside (I’d asked in English, obviously). I couldn’t understand what he was saying to me (and had already struggled with his colleague who had suggested I put a piece of carpet in there). What on earth was this guy suggesting..?
I told him I understood English perfectly well but that I was deaf and couldn’t tell what he was saying. I lifted up my hair to reveal a hearing aid. He looked mortified and his colleague looked disgusted with him. I said, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I still don’t know what you were saying. Could you say it again in another way?”
Eventually, I realised he was saying “sponge” which became clearer when he said ‘bath sponge’ and ‘washing up sponge’. I would never have worked it out in a month of Sundays otherwise. Just try lipreading the word ‘sponge’ and you’ll see what I mean! It didn’t do the trick and the boots ended up in the bin. It did make me wonder how he’d treat a customer who didn’t speak very good English – and I have since taken my business elsewhere.
“What can you hear now then? Can you hear me speaking to you?”
This was from someone I’d been speaking to for half an hour.
“Well, I can understand why people don’t think you’re deaf. I never have any trouble communicating with you… But then again, I don’t know how hard you’re working to understand me.”
This was from someone close to me, quite recently.
On telling a former work colleague about getting my hearing aids but needing them adjusted they said, “Oh well, when they get it right, you’ll be ‘back to normal’.”
Charming!
“I do find it frustrating that I can’t speak to you on the phone. The number of times I pick the phone up to call you and then realise I can’t call you…”
Yes, funnily enough I find it ‘frustrating’ that I can’t use the phone too.
On the lighter side, someone who works in my building society asked how I was getting on with my hearing (as she hadn’t seen me for ages and the last time was just after my sudden profound deafness). “I’m still deaf,” I said. “But I’ve got a really clever hearing aid that sends a Bluetooth wireless signal to the aid in my other ear so I can get a sense of left and right.” I showed her the CROS aid.
As quick as a flash she smiled and said, “That’s neat. We get a lot of customers in here with hearing aids nowadays. Young people like you. It’s just like people wearing glasses I always think.”
What a refreshing perspective. She made me smile. There was a time when I would have been mortified at someone asking me about my deafness in a public space – especially as my answer involved me saying I was now profoundly deaf in that ear. Now, I was glad she’d asked though, as it showed she cared and more to the point, it didn’t matter to her or make her treat me differently.
I wish more people with hearing loss felt that having hearing aids had no more stigma attached to them than wearing glasses – but we all know it still does. But, I hope that the more we write blogs like this, the more we’ll empower one another to break the taboo and talk about our deafness, our aids and our needs.
It’s ironic really that I write on Limping Chicken as when I first learned to lipread, my goal was for nobody to find out I had hearing loss. Now here I am writing about it for all the world to see! The more I speak – and write – about my hearing loss, the more confident I become. Nobody’s ever run, screaming when I’ve told them I’m deaf. Nor has anyone pointed and laughed.
Some have even made an effort to communicate more effectively with me so, that can only be a good thing.
Angie is a journalist, food and travel writer, photographer and co-founder of #Yorkshirehour on Twitter – as well as having a full-time job in local government. She’s also a wife, chicken-keeper, gardener, foodie and WI member, living in Glorious Yorkshire. Angie started going deaf in one ear at the age of 30, then suffered total sudden onset hearing loss in her ‘good’ ear in 2011. Her husband and her chickens keep her sane – or as close as she’s gonna get! You can check out her website, blog, twitter account, Facebook and Linked In.
The Limping Chicken is supported by Deaf media company Remark!, provider of sign language services Deaf Umbrella, the Deaf training and consultancy Deafworks, and the RAD Deaf Law Centre.
Lianne Herbert
November 1, 2012
“What can you hear now then? Can you hear me speaking to you?”
“Well, I can understand why people don’t think you’re deaf. I never have any trouble communicating with you… But then again, I don’t know how hard you’re working to understand me.”
These two quotes made me chuckle. I’m sometimes amazed at the logic those without any hearing impairment have. It’s good that you seem to be coping with the sudden changes quite well… Not many could.
Robert Mandara
November 1, 2012
A couple of things strike me:
Firstly, you appear to be rather sensitive to the things people say even though I don’t think anyone’s meant you any harm. Hearing people don’t tend to know much about deafness and, in general, just don’t know what to say. What they do say is all part of the rich experience of being deaf. Being deaf isn’t really about what our ears are doing; it’s all about how we communicate with others.
Secondly, you have been hearing and are perhaps more aware of the stigma than people who have been deaf all their lives. For example, people wouldn’t dare to make a deaf joke to my face but you’ve probably heard plenty. I think the stigma is why you wanted to hide your deafness but, gradually and thankfully, you are turning around. Writing here certainly comforts others who are facing the same problems but your words aren’t reaching “all the world”. I presume that very few hearing people follow this blog so, as yet, you are not addressing the audience that you need to reach for anything to change.
Liz Ward
November 1, 2012
Hi Robert – I agree that being deaf is about how we communicate with others. I’m not sure though about whether Angie is more aware of the stigma of what hearing people say/how they react than people who have been deaf their whole lives. My sister and I have been deaf our whole lives, and we have both got lots of anecdotes about what people say/what their body language is like when we say we’re deaf or if they seem very uncomfortable about it. A lot of my deaf friends are the same – it really is a strange hearing world out there! A lot of the time, you’re right, people don’t know what to say, and once they get past that initial discomfort, some people relax and learn from the experience. Sometimes I feel like I’m an ‘ambassador’ because every hearing person I meet who hasn’t met a deaf person before is someone I have to somehow educate about communicating and the experience of being deaf. However, some hearing people just don’t always get over that initial ignorance/prejudice. What hearing people say isn’t necessarily a reflection on Angie’s confidence as a deaf person – it is more a reflection on their ideas about deafness 🙂
Robert Mandara
November 1, 2012
You are right Liz! What I meant was that Angie has probably seen the stigma from the other side of the hearing/deaf fence. Angie has seen deafness from the perspective of a hearing person – you and I have never had that luxury (assuming it is one 🙂 ).
Kay Huxham
November 1, 2012
I’m hearing, or rather, was hearing. I love reading this blog. Sometimes we get annoyed or frustrated, but when you think back, some hearing people are just laughable, right? You wonder whether they are impaired in their thinking.