Welcome

Thanks for joining me.

I am not sure where this journey is going to take me, but I've a sense from others that it isn't going to be an easy ride. There will be setbacks, periods of slow progress, maybe even lapses into depression, and moments (I hope) of reward and elation. I can't tell what, when, how quite yet.

I'm going to be writing quickly and when I can, so don't expect great prose!

Friday 11 July 2008

Well here goes...

We have decided to commit to a CI as the only solution to the hearing loss. I knew this was the only sensible course, but I have wanted to ensure that we covered every possible cause. I'm not entirely sure we have done that, but I can't go on living in this limbo so a commitment to have a CI is a move forward.

Some people have been saying to me 'Why aren't you hungrier for the CI?' and the answer, I've come to realise, lies in my own (lack of) identification with being deaf.

I was deaf in one ear from the age of about 18 months until I began to lose hearing, slowly, in the right ear too from about 1999. From then until last year I was hearing pretty well (the odd bad day excepted) until that fateful mountain cable car. So while I have been hard of hearing for almost all of my life and mildly deaf for almost a decade, I have been certain that I am hearing person until this year.

In short a deaf identity still isn't my identity. I can't help feeling that because of this I have not been able to embrace a CI as a benefit but instead I still see it as a negation of my own 'real' identity as someone able (with a struggle) to hear, engage, interact.

What do I take away from this?

That becoming deaf is about a loss of identity as much as assuming one. That losing hearing is about losing confidence as much as (or even more than) losing touch with sound. That the heroic, but imperceptible, struggles to hear when you are hard of hearing but denying it are all the more ridiculous and pathetic in retrospect.

On that last point, I am now amazed to realise the number of devious ways by which I actually managed for years with reduced hearing and all sorts of trivial and not so trivial things are coming into sharper relief. The fact that I used to skip lectures at Cambridge because certain lecturers were 'not helpful' when what I really meant was 'the lecturer mumbled'; the fact that, when I became a lecturer myself, I talked too much and listened too little (fill the time with your voice and you don't have to strain to listen for the responses of students); the fact that I have always fought shy of social events, meetings, even the odd get-together.

What I am beginning to realise is just how far deafness is not some new condition but, paradoxically, one of the most essential elements of me, Mark. I still feel unsure whether, on those all too frequent occasions we are asked to declare - for 'diversity monitoring' purposes - whether we are disabled, I really should be ticking that box...

Bit of a surprise to learn all of that at this age.

2 comments:

Jennifer said...

Mark...well said...and I know exactly how you feel. Even though I had been almost completely deaf all my life (I mean, come on...I was 100% deaf in one ear and at the 100 dB level in the other!) I did fine with my hearing aid and considered myself a member of the hearing world...albeit a slightly awkward one. So I didn't hear everything...I heard enough that I got by, and I did NOT want to be labeled as deaf...I was hard of hearing.
Funny thing, but when you lose it all, and you sit in silence for days on end as I did waiting for my CI surgery, you get used to the idea. I have made my peace with it...I am unapologetically a deaf girl. My CIs have given me sound and comprehension...I had to find the identity myself.
Welcome to our world...it's not at all a bad place...there are some awesome people here!! (hugs)

Mark Gray said...

Jennifer, thanks. I am heartened, as ever, to hear from you, as I am when I read your blog. You are a fund of good sense and clear perspective.

What I am beginning to realise is the extent to which I fooled myself about my capacity to hear when the hair cells decided enough was enough and started, metaphorically, making for the door! When orality is a vital part of your world (and being an academic my whole world of work as well as my social world was precisely about oral communication) you set up all sorts of defences.

One thing I have noticed is that, since becoming profoundly deaf, I am now reading far far more and writing much more too. An interesting consequence. In a sense, the deafness makes for a more literate life. I've realised how much I really cared about things like the 'sound' of poetry in my head, the colour of language in a novel and the vibrancy of good prose. So this rather straightlaced economist has been reading HUGE numbers of books that he would probably have avoided or ignored before deafness.

The CI payoff for me is not that I get to reclaim the oral side of my life of old (I'm not getting up my hopes and it would be an unrealistic expectation) but that I should be able to at least interact with my nine year old son and those close to me more effectively. Here's hoping...