Many of you who are members of ALDA (Association of Late Deafened Adults) received the latest ALDA News, Summer, 2013 Volume 29, Issue 3 this week. The Editor, Nancy Kingsley contacted me and asked if I would be interested in submitting something for them along theme of social challenges regarding hearing loss. It was a privilege to be asked to submit an article, and a pleasant surprise to see my story on the front cover.
Have you ever had an embarrassing moment of miscommunication? I have, numerous times. Here is one of my more memorable moments...
The Social Challenges
of Hearing Loss
By Joyce Edmiston
You might think that as a child with a hearing loss, I would
have grown up being used to social situations where it is difficult to follow
what is being said and what is going on. It wasn’t like that for me. In fact,
in many ways, I was socially stunted because of my hearing loss.
Much of what goes on is accessed through the ears.
Conversations are happening around us everywhere we go, and people learn about
social graces by listening to the comments of others. (This is called
incidental learning.) We learn how to use words to convey emotions, social
norms, acceptable behavior, and small talk. On more than one occasion, people
have mentioned that I don’t waste much time getting to the point, and as a
result, I sometimes come across as rude. I’m not actually being rude—I just
know that by the time I get to the end of small talk, I’ll be worn out from
trying to follow the conversation and be so mentally exhausted that I’ll miss
important parts. I’m sure some of you
reading this can relate. It’s so much easier just to get to the point, but
that’s not the norm. People talk a lot without saying much before arriving at
what they actually want to communicate. The small pleasantries of discussing
the weather, asking how the family is, and even a simple “how are you” can turn
into a huge discussion.
I’ve noticed through the years that as my hearing
deteriorates further, it becomes easier for me to talk a lot about nothing just
so I won't have to ask the other person time and again, “I’m sorry?” or “Could
you repeat that, please?” If I do most
of the talking, there is less chance that I will answer inappropriately. That
is my biggest fear when it comes to socializing, and I spent many years
isolating myself because of it. I don’t know the scientific name for this
phobia, if there is one. It was never a problem for me until I went to the
dinner party that changed that.
I was married to a military police officer in the early
1980s. This was before I got my first hearing aids. (It was actually this man
who set me up with the audiologist that prescribed my first ones, courtesy of
the U. S. Army, while we were stationed in Europe, but this happened after the
story I’m about to tell you.)
That husband—I’ll call him
M.P. for military policeman—received orders to report to Hunter Army
Airfield in Savannah, Georgia. I was 22 at the time. We opted to live off base
in a house near Kings Ferry and Ogeechee. The landlord lived on the other side
of the watermelon patch behind the rental. He was very friendly, the epitome of
Southern hospitality, and invited us to his home for dinner the next day with
some of their friends. His wife, he said, made the best barbeque in these
parts. Although I was nervous about meeting new people and making new friends,
I knew it was important to accept the invitation.
M.P. went through processing the next day. He had a bad reaction to the typhoid fever
vaccination and was sent home early. He
began developing a fever and needed to get into bed. By now, it was late
afternoon, and we were expected at Mr. and Mrs. Landlord’s house in just a
couple of hours. While I was debating whether I should stay home and be a
nurse, M.P. said to just go to the neighbor's for dinner. It wasn’t like I was
driving across town—I would be right next door, and he wanted to be left alone
and sleep.
I walked past the watermelon patch up to Mr. and Mrs.
Landlord’s home. Mr. Landlord introduced to their adult son and their friends,
a young couple. The gentleman was an officer from the base where M.P. was just processed. I don’t remember
much about his girlfriend other than she was lovely and so soft spoken that I
didn’t hear her well. I let them carry the conversation and I didn’t say too
much.
As the hostess prepared each plate, I began to lose my
appetite. The meat was a gray stringy concoction with a watery gray sauce. Not
wanting to be rude, I began to think about what I could say so she wouldn’t put
as much on my plate as she was giving everyone else. When she looked my
direction as she picked up a plate, I requested, “Not too much for me, if you
don’t mind. My husband and I had a very late lunch today.”
While I was watching the hostess as she began putting a
small portion on my plate, the officer sitting across from me asked, “Where is
he at?”
"He’s home in
bed,” I replied.
Mrs. Landlord frowned and gave me an odd look. I glanced at
her husband, who gave me a very stern look. Then I looked at the officer who
had asked me the question. His face was red, and it looked as though he was
trying to keep from laughing.
Warning bells went off in my head. Something just wasn’t
right. I asked the officer, “You did ask me ‘Where’s he at?,’ didn’t you?”
Still red-faced, he slowly shook his head no. “I asked,
‘What did you have for lunch?’ ”
To say I was greatly embarrassed is an understatement. To
this day I don’t remember what the food tasted like, what we talked about, or
anything else other than how quickly I left for home with the excuse, “I need
to go check on my husband.”
I can laugh about this today, because it really is funny.
However, back when I was young, inexperienced, and awkward in social
gatherings, this misunderstanding caused me to not go anywhere socially without
M.P. I lost many wonderful opportunities by allowing that moment to define my
social choices. I missed out on friendships, meeting fascinating new people,
and traveling with other military wives when we were stationed in Europe. As a
young woman, I didn’t know how to explain my hearing loss or advocate for
myself.
This is why I believe it’s so important to have support
groups such as
ALDA and
HLAA (Hearing Loss Association of America) and why I
love reading stories about other deafened, hard of hearing, and Deaf people. I
also think it’s why blogging is on the rise among us. If you haven’t checked
out some of these blogs, I encourage you to do so. You’ll learn, you’ll laugh,
you’ll cry, you’ll understand, and you’ll relate. Here are a few blogs I like
to visit:
Charlie Swinbourne, a TV screen writer in the UK, publishes
an international e-daily, “The Limping Chicken,” at
http://limpingchicken.com
If you’re looking for a place that covers a wide variety of
issues regarding deafness from bloggers around the world, check out
http://www.deafread.com
For the top blogs that cover deafness, go to
http://deaf.alltop.com
While you’re at it, stop by my blog at
http://xpressivehandz.blogspot.com
, where there is something new each week. I also encourage others to guest
post. Do you have something on your mind you would like to share? Email me at
xpressivehandz@hotmail.com and put “Blog Post” in the subject line.
This speakerphone gives "one-touch" access to dialing, answering, and memory scanning functions from up to 40 feet away. Phone can be dialed by using the one touch number, the wireless pendant, or a connected switch. Headphones may be added to the pendant for privacy. Additional accessories may be added-call program for information.
