“To put an arrogant 'famous' singer in their place: pretend to be deaf.”
~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana ~
I have been quiet these last few weeks because of an unfortunate illness not directly associated with my surgery. As I have been at home and lethargic most of the time, there has not been much to say. I did have some contrasting experiences though before the rot set in.
Visiting London for a formal post-operative checkup.
All is progressing as expected. There is still no pain, just a little local tenderness behind and below my ear (over the muscle attachment and behind the joint of my jaw). This is an area not covered by thick tissues and so does not leave much room for padding. The usual underlying softness is still hard and feels bruised. Stroking the skin or hair in this area behind my ear produces a prickly sore reaction on the surface, even though deeper it has no effect. This I believe to be the effect of tiny superficial skin nerves repairing themselves and fully expect this to gradually go away shortly. The operation wound is now completely healed, just a little lumpy and hard which can be softened up with moisturising cream. My glasses can now fit normally without irritation. The bad taste in my mouth changes weekly. At present it is a constant saltiness but the effect is decreasing in severity.
A more detailed description of the operation was given this time explaining the findings and solution to the difficulty approaching the cochlea. This is the part that is always individual and unknown until directly seen by the surgeon. A reason why things don't always go to plan and compromises may have to be made on the spot. As the patient one can only trust in the expertise and experience of the surgeon to get the job done as successfully as possible. In my case the otosclerosis was very wide spread and invasive bone was encroaching over the oval window and into the cochlea leaving very little mobile parts to function. He managed with some difficulty to find a way through for the electrode which was positioned perfectly in the end. In return for his skill in providing the best start, I must continue the good work and keep my part of the bargain and use it to the best of my ability. I consider all health-care to be a partnership that needs compliance from both sides to work towards the best result possible. A bad surgical procedure cannot be made better by a good patient, no matter how hard they try. A disrespectful patient will ruin the best of surgical techniques and produce poor results.
Now I await the switch on and tune in which comes tomorrow the 9th July. A celebration is planned and you will get to hear about that as well in due course. There are so many things happening for me this next month and all with have a new perception which I will catalogue as they happen. Be it good or bad this device is going to be tested well this next few weeks.
“Eyes are a deaf man’s ears. Ears are a blind man’s eyes.”
~ Mokokoma Mokhonoana ~
The deaf commuter.
What is it about London (or perhaps any city) that makes walking the streets so difficult for deaf people? (as apposed to those with their ears plugged!) Yet again I was confronted by a cyclist. When I cross the road at a pedestrian crossing with lights I stand back a bit to watch for the green light to come on. I cannot hear the bleeping and if I just follow others it may mean they have gone early and the traffic-lights are still green. If I take my eyes off the light I may miss it by a few seconds and not have enough time to cross. In London it seems that green means go to traffic even if you are still on the road in front of them! I like the lights that display the countdown seconds to the change. I can run if necessary but prefer not to if I don't have to.
On this occasion the traffic had been stopped by another crossing light further up the road so there was nothing near except a cyclist who had managed to continue on his own and was still several yards away from my (now red to him) crossing light. I walked into the road with two other people and kept one eye on the green man to be sure I still had priority. This concentration on one task is my standard to keep distracting noises away from my hearing and enabling me to pay attention to what is needed. I knew the traffic light was red and the pedestrian light was green so felt perfectly safe and relaxed about it. It came as a big surprise, therefore, when the cyclist approached unheard and unseen at my right side. He swerved in front of me and carried on as if nothing had happened! Is there a law in London that says cyclists don't have to stop at red lights?
I pulled up very sharp and startled by the sudden quiet vision and while I collected my thoughts (not repeatable here) standing in the middle of the road the lights changed and the traffic moved on towards me. Fortunately my disability is in my head not my legs!
Faith restored.
Safe at home it was our 35th wedding anniversary and to celebrate I planned a posh afternoon tea. Normally my wife does all things with communication but this was my treat. I booked the table at a local place I had always wanted to visit but never seemed to find the excuse. The booking was on-line and at the end of the form it asked for any special requirements. Just a couple of weeks before we had lunch at a local restaurant and I had summoned the courage to ask them to turn the background music down to help me hear better in the hard surfaced, standard public restaurant. To my surprise and delight they turned it off! So, with this new confidence I asked if I could have a table in a quiet corner (if such a thing was possible) because I was profoundly deaf and could not hear well in public places. With fingers crossed we arrived at the venue on a lovely sunny day in the countryside.
We were shown into an ante-room beside the dining room to wait (as I thought, I didn't hear the conversation as we announced our arrival to the waiter) whereupon we were directed to a single table furnished with white tablecloth, flowers and cups and saucers. Yes, we did not have a quiet corner, we had a whole room to ourselves! We could see the people next door in the dining room but nothing could be heard of them. I cannot remember the last time I went out with my wife and had a normal comfortable conversation in a public place. All the seats were padded, the floor carpeted and cushions everywhere. The walls were wood panelling with a low plaster ceiling and heavy fabric curtains at the windows. There was no echo, no scraping of chair legs, no hum of conversation, no mood music and everywhere a peaceful silence that I did not have to compete with. Not the empty silence from switching off my hearing aid to get away from the noise as I usually do at times like this. The pen and writing pad brought for outings like this stayed firmly closed.
We had such a wonderful afternoon tea, so relaxed and comfortable, unhurried and with spontaneous conversation. To have that with someone outside of home is a special treat these days. This shows it can be done. It needs a bit of planning in advance, some explanation upfront and information to work on. I don't think the indifference towards deafness is all one sided. We must do our part to admit the problems and ask for help. We know what we want because we need it.
Can we always expect others to know what we are thinking when we don't look deaf?
"Kindness is the language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."~ Mark Twain ~
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