NEW JOB, NEW LIFE, SAME EARS.

“The most important thing in communication is hearing what isn't said.” 
~  Peter Drucker  ~

I have a head start on that one!

I married and moved to a new job in West Sussex in 1980. Although it meant working directly with the public my deafness was not bad and I could deal with it. I did not work with anaesthetics any more, only the surgery as an Orthopaedic Surgery Assistant. I worked to support others in surgery only and I could put my experience towards this with enthusiasm. I worked days and nights and 'weekends On Call’ at the end of a ‘bleeper’ which could still wake me up like an alarm call. In those days I was able to use the telephone and understand instructions without any trouble. Or as well as many others can with crackly lines quiet voices and background noises. As the years passed and my hearing deteriorated, the technology in hearing aids moved in the other direction. I was, therefore, kept on a level course even though my hearing was getting much worse. My right ear had begun showing signs of problems as well so with two hearing aids in place I had to admit to being ‘hard of hearing’ to those I met, though I could keep the aids covered by my long hair. Keeping the balance of two hearing ears makes a great deal of difference in how the world is perceived. This awareness helps to overcome the strain of concentration needed in keeping up with conversations and who is speaking.  More about that later.

As I thought would happen eventually, I outran the most powerful hearing aids available. It was then that I was made aware of the Access To Work Scheme.

It was through them, paying 80% of the cost (the deal then), that I was able to get my first digital hearing aids and service from a private provider. At the time the NHS did not supply them, they were much too expensive. I was happy to pay my 20% share which was usually paid by the employer. Now I had the power and the filtering to remove the distracting background noise that my conventional aids could not manage. Fortunately I loved my job which is just as well because I don’t think anyone else would have me at the time. All this was pre disability discrimination days but sadly it was very true. There were blind Physiotherapists so why not a deaf Surgery Assistant. But would you want to be treated by both together in the same room with sharp objects?

Times change, and the NHS has to go with it, so much of my work disappeared in a service restructuring exercise.  I became part of a much larger team based at a nearby hospital instead of a close knit small team just down the road. This was the beginning of a time when I felt I could not compete with others anymore and so, as I was able to stay within my unit, I just did my bit as best I could and not much more. I was fortunate to have some very good, long established colleagues to work with. Their trust in me to do the job well was what kept me believing in myself. I would like to have been more involved with education and policy but, like many deaf people, it was too much hassle to communicate and arrange things. There was little or no appreciation of what deafness was like. I admit my defeatism, I should have been more outspoken, but it would have been a short lived career anyway because my hearing was dipping into the realisation that some things will never happen again. Music, cinema and plays had disappeared from my life. Discussions, lectures (and learning), even dining out were moving from difficult to impossible on the enjoyment scale.

Then my deafness began to impact on my independence. I could not hear on the telephone well enough to be sure of taking down accurate information and others depended on it to act accordingly. I also could not be contacted out and about so had to stay at home to use a telephone specially designed for deaf people. This also faltered, leaving my wife to take my calls and relay the messages thereby keeping her in as well. Fortunately she was a nurse and problems of confidentiality in the messages were overcome. My difficulties were well known to the switchboard. They had known me for many years and would explain to callers what to expect in advance. Regulations meant they would not give my mobile phone number to anyone and this technicality had to be overcome. I gave it out myself to all and sundry who might want to speak to me, thus bypassing the switchboard altogether with text messages. They must have wondered where I had gone. 

To think that this is now common place throughout the system. At the time our Communications Department didn't have a solution for me. More and more emergency work was scheduled for the day time and late night call outs became unnecessary.

I could keep going a bit longer.