As someone who was born with a progressive type of deafness I’ve fallen into lots of categories throughout my life. I was born hearing and then became moderately deaf then severely deaf before I was finally classed as profoundly deaf at the age of 18.
Now, this isn’t a sob story about what I have “lost” but rather a reflection on the sounds that I had long since forgotten about and how I’ve changed too.
For example, it seems like a lifetime ago since I last heard a voice on the telephone yet it’s incredible how quickly my brain has adapted to managing things differently.
So without further ado, here is my little list of sounds I had forgotten existed. First up?
Music in the supermarkets and shops
I had seriously forgotten this was a thing.
Shopping in my local Morrisons branch during the Christmas period, I was momentarily distracted by a shopper who appeared to be swaying and singing.
Smiling at them in amusement, they turned to me and with a finger pointing upwards, muttered something along the lines of “I love this song!”
I could only imagine what it might be. The 80s classic Last Christmas perhaps? Or a jolly version of Rockin Around the Christmas Tree?
Beats me.
I could hear nothing else with my hearing aids other than the buzz of nearby shoppers and the occasional blast from a tannoy shouting out some gibberish.
Thinking about it though, I’m not sure whether I’d want to have background music as I browse the shelves and choose my groceries. It seems a little distracting to me!
I like to enjoy music by itself, not when I’m trying to focus on another task.
Onto my next one which is….
Theme tunes.
Whether it’s the theme tune to a television programme, series or movie, I’d forgotten how irritatingly catchy or -on the other end of the spectrum – truly comforting they are.
I recall the dramatic boom-boom-boom at the end of each Eastenders episode and the melancholy brass melody before Coronation Street came on. Nowadays, I am oblivious.
Strictly Come Dancing seems to have a catchy theme tune that everyone dances or hums along to! And I wonder whether the News at Ten still has that awful foreboding drum roll as it starts.
I did – however – sing along nostalgically to the Gladiators theme tune when it made its reappearance last weekend as I recognised the same lyrics from the 90s!
Moving along now to,
Sounds from nature.
“It was ever so windy last night” I saw school Mums recently comment, explaining their broken sleep.
“The wind kept catching on the gate and the constant tap tap tap kept me awake!”
“Then when I did drop off, the heavens opened and it poured down with rain, waking me up yet again!”
Not me. I sleep like a log.
The only way I know there’s a thunderstorm during the night is if I’ve woken up and seen a flash. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.
As a child I remember tensing in fear if I heard the rumble of thunder followed by the crash of a lightning clap. It was the almighty booming that sounded absolutely terrifying to me!
So I don’t mind not hearing that one!
Admittedly, the natural world is an undoubtedly a noisy place. I tend to forget how bombarded by sounds people can be.
Nowadays I no longer recognise where bird sound is coming from and sometimes I don’t pick it up at all, yet I’m incredibly observant and I notice things around me with my eyes that hearing friends and family wouldn’t.
I can no longer hear the crash of the waves when I’m sat on a beach but I’m mesmerised by their rise and flow and I can still imagine in my mind what their sound would be.
I can smell the sea and would recognise the scent with my eyes closed. I know if it’s windy by watching the trees outside my house. I also know from subtle shifts of light what the weather is like and a sense of heaviness in the air warns me of a storm.
Therefore, despite it looking to many others like I’ve “lost a sense,” in truth I haven’t lost anything.
I’ve simply adapted to life using my other senses and I’m so appreciative of the peace and quiet I often get.
Has this happened to you? I’d love to read about it in the comments.
Rebecca A Withey is a writer and creative artist based in the Midlands. She fronts the all deaf sign performance group Unify and is the Assistant Editor for The Limping Chicken. Rebecca is a Deaf, bilingual BSL user passionate about music and telling stories. Find out more at www.rawithey.com
Posted on January 23, 2024 by Rebecca A Withey