tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83683459144381557972024-03-13T07:20:13.506-06:00Hard of Hearing MomFrieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-40859151783929807112014-08-25T11:47:00.000-06:002014-08-25T11:47:09.038-06:00Sleeping with My FitBit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlilLVEQppA/U_tzr_Gc8ZI/AAAAAAAANMc/OoDfpptIVxQ/s1600/FitBit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZlilLVEQppA/U_tzr_Gc8ZI/AAAAAAAANMc/OoDfpptIVxQ/s1600/FitBit.jpg" height="179" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
What is a<a href="http://www.fitbit.com/home"> FitBit</a>?<br />
<br />
It is a wireless activity and sleep tracker. I have heard a lot of great things about this gadget, and when I saw it at Costco, I knew I had to try it. With Costco's great 90 return policy, there was no risk involved.<br />
<br />
I first got it as I was recently diagnosed with hypothyroidism, which explained my 10 hours of sleeping and extreme fatigue. I also gained about 30 pounds, so I was interested in a program that would help me keep track of my exercise, food, and sleep.<br />
<br />
I have only had it for a few days, and I have already found my <b>FAVORITE</b> feature!<br />
<br />
It has a silent sleep alarm.<br />
<br />
Yep, you heard me right.<br />
<br />
For years, my sweet hubby has been waking me up, giving me my hearing aid, and I put it on, hoping that I will hear my alarm. <br />
<br />
I logged into my FitBit account and set the timer. (FitBit has an app, so you can access your info on your smartphone.)<br />
<br />
Tapped the FitBit several times before I went to sleep to turn on the sleep mode.<br />
<br />
<i><b>Bzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzz.</b></i> <br />
<br />
It worked! Tap the FitBit and the buzzing stopped.<br />
<br />
It even kept track of how WELL I was sleeping. <br />
<br />
How many times did I wake up?<br />
<br />
How many minutes was I restless?<br />
<br />
How long did I sleep?<br />
<br />
According to FitBit, here are my sleeping results:<br />
<br />
12:49 Fell asleep. (Yes, I'm a late night person)<br />
Time to fall asleep: 6 min<br />
Tines awakened: 11<br />
You were in bed for 7hrs 11min<br />
Actual sleep time: 6 hrs 48 min<br />
Sleep Efficiency: 96% <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Yay!<br />
<br />
What do YOU use to wake up?<br />
<br />
<br />
Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-49594786946068392722012-03-15T21:13:00.000-06:002012-03-15T21:13:43.334-06:00A Second Chance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2crHOfX6dVs/T2KvMSMUskI/AAAAAAAAJ0s/bAi2UsHwrN4/s1600/402757_188979337868677_180561242043820_256570_712447383_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2crHOfX6dVs/T2KvMSMUskI/AAAAAAAAJ0s/bAi2UsHwrN4/s1600/402757_188979337868677_180561242043820_256570_712447383_n.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
A Face Book friend posted this today. <br />
<br />
I got a little chuckle out of it, because it is somewhat true for me.<br />
<br />
I say, "<b>What?</b>" because I didn't hear you.<br />
<br />
But you still get a second chance to change what you said, make it better, clearer, and more understandable.<br />
<br />
Lucky you!Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-1194619966294441572012-02-01T14:01:00.000-07:002012-02-01T14:01:15.936-07:00A Teacher's ApologyIn high school, seniors were given the opportunity to be a TA (teacher's assistant) for class credit. It was considered an "easy A," and it sounded like something that would be fun to do. I was a librarian assistant in 7th grade, so how hard could it be?<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H6fJE3251So/Tymnj1b_MVI/AAAAAAAAJfQ/H92dH4GHyf4/s1600/Grading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H6fJE3251So/Tymnj1b_MVI/AAAAAAAAJfQ/H92dH4GHyf4/s320/Grading.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>I asked one of my favorite English teachers if I could be her assistant, and was thrilled when she said, "yes," and signed my new class schedule. I don't remember much of my duties, other than correcting papers and filing. There was a common area next to all of the English classes and I would pull in a desk to correct papers in that area.<br />
<br />
As I came into my English class one day, my teacher pulled me aside to speak to me privately. She seemed quite embarrassed, but continued to say, "I need to apologize to you."<br />
<br />
<i>Apologize for what?</i> I responded, genuinely puzzled. <br />
<br />
"Remember when I spoke to you earlier today?"<br />
<br />
My mind flashed back to my TA period ~ I was sitting at a desk, grading papers. My English teacher had come up to me and asked me a question about something.<br />
<br />
<i>Yeah, I do.</i><br />
<br />
"Well, before I came up to you, I called out your name a few times and said, 'Are you deaf or what?' I am so sorry for saying that to you."<br />
<br />
<i>To be honest, I didn't hear you say that. </i><br />
<br />
She breathed a sigh of relief. "I forget that you can't hear. You look like every other student and I need to remind myself..."<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Thank you. I appreciate that. </i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Her sincere apology made me love her even more. She was more than just a teacher, she was a human being, with feelings....<br />
<br />
Our conversation got me thinking. How many times have I not heard something that was meant to be hurtful? A rude comment. Name calling. <br />
<br />
How many times have I been spared, just because I didn't hear it? <br />
<br />
I consider myself pretty lucky.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-46307618129429465172011-12-06T16:27:00.000-07:002011-12-06T16:27:19.544-07:00CaptiView in Cinemark Theaters!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VgpjvoI0Rj8/Tt6hGz4aNQI/AAAAAAAAJF8/sBH0KmTUeW4/s1600/IMG014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VgpjvoI0Rj8/Tt6hGz4aNQI/AAAAAAAAJF8/sBH0KmTUeW4/s1600/IMG014.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I rarely go to the movie theater. <br />
<br />
Why? It's too hard to listen and understand. Even with the headsets that are available, I still miss out on important details.<br />
<br />
<b>Narration</b>? Forget it. Who's talking? Where's it coming from?<br />
<br />
<b>Accents</b>? Straining to listen and understand, it's like squinting to see.<br />
<br />
<b>Action</b>? Sure, I can see what's going on, but background noises/explosions/music can get in the way of understanding the dialogue.<br />
<br />
Good luck trying to lip read an actor whose back is turned or is off-screen.<br />
<br />
I usually can understand about 50% of the movie, but at the end, I'm left with a ton of unanswered questions. I try to ask questions to my hubby, but realize quickly that he is also missing out when he is trying to answer my questions.<br />
<br />
<i>Why did they break up?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Who is that again?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>I didn't catch the last thing they said....</i><br />
<br />
I'm fine with watching a DVD at home, now that there is captioning available on<b><i> most </i></b>movies, but feel left out of watching the <b>newest movie</b> <b>release</b> with my family.<br />
<br />
Want to watch Tower Heist? <i>Sorry, too much action/noise.</i> <br />
Harry Potter? <i>Ummm....can't understand the accents.</i> <br />
How about The Muppets? <i>Nope, can't lipread 'em</i>. <a href="http://hardofhearingmom.blogspot.com/2011/05/games-kids-playand-sometimes-adults.html">Because of this, I didn't grow up watching Sesame Street.</a><br />
<br />
Then I read<a href="http://ahearingloss.com/2011/11/16/going-to-the-movies/"> this post</a> over at SayWhatClub and I could <b><i>almost</i></b> hear a choir singing in the background....<br />
<br />
Introducing ... <a href="http://www.yourlocalcinema.com.au/accessible-cinema-news/183-new-cinema-caption-viewing-system-on-show-in-the-usa">CaptiView</a>! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7s1ewnMcuHs/Tt6kdmPYocI/AAAAAAAAJGU/JIe7oKobSjo/s1600/Doremi-CaptiView1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="368" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7s1ewnMcuHs/Tt6kdmPYocI/AAAAAAAAJGU/JIe7oKobSjo/s640/Doremi-CaptiView1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Captioning in the theaters? Really? Not the reflective captioning, which I have used in Disneyland ~ EVERYONE can see it and it can be distracting.<br />
<br />
No, this looked like something I really wanted to try.<br />
<br />
Where to start?<br />
<br />
If you live in Utah, you can go to the UCAN (<a href="http://utah-can.org/">Utah Communication Access Network</a>) for the 3 major theaters in your area. I chose Cinemark, as it is only a couple of miles from my house. I called the theater to make sure they had the CaptiView equipment. <br />
<br />
<b>Want to try this? Here's how:</b><br />
<br />
First, locate the theater online.<br />
<br />
Chose a movie you wish to see.<br />
<br />
Make sure it says DIGITAL in the movie showtimes.<br />
<br />
Find a link on the page that has movies that are on a CC list.<br />
<br />
If it's there, it is CAPTIONED!<br />
<br />
Go to the ticketing booth and request a CaptiView. You may need collateral (driver's license) to give to the ticket agent.<br />
<br />
When you choose your seat, you may want to sit towards the back of the theater. If you are sitting too close, it is hard to look at the BIG screen and "jump" down to the captions below the screen. <br />
<br />
Ask the ticket agent to "push the reset" button and make sure the CaptiView is on and set to the correct theater room.<br />
<br />
It was a Monday afternoon. No one was in the theater ... <br />
<br />
Put the CaptiView into the cup holder. You have to push it pretty hard to get it to stay in place. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XfpzQwmZuA8/Tt6hQKyyc0I/AAAAAAAAJGE/otu3_dzJYJc/s1600/IMG013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XfpzQwmZuA8/Tt6hQKyyc0I/AAAAAAAAJGE/otu3_dzJYJc/s640/IMG013.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Then twist the flexible metal arm and adjust the view finder to put it in a comfortable position. Make sure you don't touch any of the buttons on the bottom of the viewfinder, or you will turn it off, reset it, or I'm not sure what else.<br />
<br />
Be patient and wait. Of course all the previews will not be captioned.<br />
<br />
Hey, it works!!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NIcdpoMHJzs/Tt6haj0ojFI/AAAAAAAAJGM/6E6TWtfv0GU/s1600/Muppet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NIcdpoMHJzs/Tt6haj0ojFI/AAAAAAAAJGM/6E6TWtfv0GU/s640/Muppet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
Yes, I watched The Muppet Movie, enjoyed it thoroughly, and can't wait to see another movie!<br />
<br />
The CaptiView did freeze up about 2/3 into the movie. Fortunately, it was during a song/dance number and hubby took it out to the ticket agent, who swapped it out for another one, which worked fabulously. I only lost about 5 minutes of the movie, which is not a whole lot compared to being able to understand about 50% of the movie without it!<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Isn't that great?</span>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-17046225923372390032011-11-25T17:22:00.000-07:002011-11-25T17:22:12.050-07:00Hearing Implant for Sensorineural Hearing LossGrowing up in the 70's, I enjoyed watching the TV show, the Six Million Dollar Man.<br />
<br />
<i>"We can rebuild him...we have the technology.</i> <i>We have the capability to make the worlds first Bionic man. Steve Austin will be that man. Better than he was before. Better. Stronger. Faster." </i><br />
<br />
Then came along the Bionic Woman. She received amplified hearing in her right ear, a strengthened right arm and could run at 60 mph, just like the Six Million Dollar Man.<br />
<br />
It didn't matter that they could run 60 mph, or that his left eye had a 20:1 zoom or that she could throw an object farther than any human being. What intrigued me the most was <i>her hearing</i>. I wanted was to hear better. Hear more clearly.<br />
<br />
Do we have that technology? It appears that we do. There are implants available for the blind, laser surgeries for contact wearer and cochlear implants for deaf or profoundly hearing impaired. But what about those of us in the middle? Those of us whose hearing is not severe enough for a cochlear implant?<br />
<br />
Again, feeling caught in the middle, between the hearing/deaf worlds, I see a glimmer of light. There is now a hearing implant made just for those who have moderate to severe sensorineural hearing loss. The <a href="http://www.fda.gov/NewsEvents/Newsroom/PressAnnouncements/ucm204956.htm">FDA approved this device </a>a little over 18 months ago and is known as the <a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&ved=0CEgQFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.envoymedical.com%2F&ei=dy7QTsvSHcrKiAL5lcjRCw&usg=AFQjCNFWWvowEr-uWFaAJnWOgh3hmCjt6Q">Esteem, manufactured by Envoy.</a><br />
<br />
This implant garnered even more attention when this emotional video aired in late September, generating over 8 million hits.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/es5Y4pi6oOk?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
Okay, time to dig in a do some research, before I get my hopes up. My thoughts/reactions are italicized below each question.<br />
<br />
<b>What is the Esteem hearing implant?</b><br />
<br />
It is a fully implantable prosthetic hearing device that uses no microphones to process the sound. Instead, it uses your eardrum to process the sound. It is surgically placed under the skin, so it is invisible. This frees up your ear canal, minimizing background noise, feedback and the hollow/echo-y sounds you would hear with a traditional hearing aid. You can switch the Esteem on and off with a remote control device.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><i>Invisible? Cool. That also means waterproof ~ I would be able to hear in the pool or in the shower. Background noise? I could do with less of that. Switch it on and off? I'm not sure if I'd want to turn it off ~ I'd like to be able to hear my alarm clock without sleeping on an uncomfortable hearing aid.</i></div><div style="color: #38761d;"><br />
</div><b>What are the qualifications for the Esteem? </b><br />
<br />
A stable, bilateral, moderate to severe hearing loss. From my understanding, it can be a loss from several sources: genetic, damage from external sources, viral infections or aging. The key is that the loss <b>must be stable</b>, (not progressively becoming worse) and be in both ears.<br />
<br />
Normally functioning eustachian tube, middle ear anatomy and tympanic membrane.<br />
<br />
Ability to understand speech with traditional hearing aids, equal to or greater than 40%<br />
<br />
Minimum 30 days experience with properly fitted hearing aids.<br />
<br />
You must be 18 years or older.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><i>As far as I know, I would qualify! </i></div><i> </i> <br />
<b>Anything that would possibly disqualify me from the Esteem?</b><br />
<br />
Yes. Chronic ear infections, inner ear disorders, recurring vertigo, mastoiditis, hydrops, Meniere's disease, disabling tinnitus, swimmer's ear, scar tissue, excessive sensitivity to silicone rubber, polyurethane, stainless steel, titanium and/or gold.<br />
<br />
<i style="color: #38761d;">Nothing applies to me; looking good so f</i><i><span style="color: #38761d;">ar. </span></i><br />
<br />
<b>Will you reach "normal hearing" with the Esteem?</b><br />
<br />
93% of the patients implanted with the Esteem scored equal to or better than hearing with their hearing aids on a speech intelligibility test ~ 56% scored better, while 7% scored less. 78% responded with clarity being somewhat or much better and ability to understand speech with background noise was 69% or better.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><i>It appears that the device achieves a level similar or better than a traditional hearing aid would. I guess it depends on the individual and their severity of hearing loss. Is it "normal" hearing? I'm not sure. </i></div><br />
<b>What are the risks?</b><br />
<br />
As with any surgery, there are risks. 42% experienced "taste disturbance," 7% experienced facial paralysis, while 18% experienced tinnitus. One year later, 14% had taste disturbances, 1% had facial paralysis, and 5% still had tinnitus.<br />
<br />
<i><span style="color: #38761d;">The facial paralysis is one side effect that scares me. I experienced a short (thank goodness) and terrifying bout of </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bell%27s_palsy" style="color: #38761d;">Bell's Palsy</a><span style="color: #38761d;">, which paralyzed the left side of my face.</span></i> <br />
<br />
<b>Future studies?</b><br />
<br />
As a condition of FDA approval, Envoy must follow 181 implanted subjects for five years and provide a report. Safety, effectiveness, and any other side effects will be noted. <br />
<br />
<i style="color: #38761d;">I think this report will be available in 2014. That's only two years away.... </i><br />
<br />
<b>How much does it cost? </b><br />
<br />
The cost can vary throughout the country, depending on the surgeon, facility, and if you require an overnight stay. Envoy estimates that it is approximately $30,000. Per ear. <i><span style="color: #38761d;"> Ouch.</span></i><br />
<br />
The Esteem has a maintenance-free, non-charging battery based on pacemaker technology that lasts anywhere from 4-9 years, depending if you keep it turned on at night. To replace the battery/processor, you would need to undergo a minor outpatient surgery at the tune of about $7,000, although the cost could go down over time...the life span of a new battery in 5 years is expected to be 14+ years.<br />
<br />
<div style="color: #38761d;"><i>This is a deal-breaker for many people, and would be for me, as it would wipe out any retirement savings for us. Our son is planning to attend medical school and we need to be saving for that.</i></div><br />
<b>Is the Esteem covered by insurance?</b><br />
<br />
At this point, it appears that it is not covered (or fully covered) by insurance. <a href="http://www.facebook.com/topic.php?uid=338950385300&topic=19889">Some patients have had success</a> in getting their insurance company to pay for part of the implant. Study your insurance documents, understand them and if it covers a cochlear implant, prosthetic other semi-implantable devices, it may cover an Esteem implant or portions of it. Make sure you have the correct procedure codes and any pre-authorization needed <b>before</b> undergoing the surgery.<br />
<br />
<b>Will I get the Esteem Implant? </b><br />
<br />
This device looks promising as a whole, although the price tag is enough to scare anyone away. I've submitted my audiogram to Envoy, just to see if I even qualify.<br />
<br />
It looks like I will wait at least two years before embarking on this journey. That will give the company time to do their follow-up, work out any bugs, and perhaps tweak the performance of the device. Perhaps by then, our insurance company will include covering the device and/or procedure. <br />
<br />
I'm not looking to be the next Bionic Woman. I just want to hear better, without all the fuss and muss of a hearing aid.<br />
<br />
What are <b>YOUR</b> thoughts? Would you consider having this implant? I would love to hear from you.<br />
<br />
Sources: <a href="http://www.fda.gov/newsevents/newsroom/pressannouncements/ucm204956.htm">FDA Press Announcement 3-17-10</a>, <a href="http://www.fda.gov/MedicalDevices/ProductsandMedicalProcedures/DeviceApprovalsandClearances/Recently-ApprovedDevices/ucm212633.htm">FDA Approval, updated 6-11-10</a>, <a href="http://www.facebook.com/groups/338950385300/">FaceBook Envoy Esteem Patients Group </a>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-40388565963411553282011-11-01T21:23:00.000-06:002011-11-01T21:23:16.308-06:00I'm Here....Habits are really hard to break.<br />
<br />
Especially for those who are not hard of hearing.<br />
<br />
Whenever I call out, "<i>Where are you?</i>" <br />
<br />
I get, "I'm here."<br />
<br />
<i>Where?</i><br />
<br />
Here.<br />
<br />
I look in the last place I remember seeing him....not there. <br />
<br />
<i>Where's 'here?</i>'<br />
<br />
Apparently, I'm the only one that has names for every room in the house: kitchen, front room, family room, etc.<br />
<br />
Hubby was in the family room, didn't know what to call it, and said, "here...."<br />
<br />
<i><b>*sigh*</b></i><br />
<br />
I guess I need to learn not to call out. Maybe I need a smaller house. Or a pager. Do pagers still exist? Guess I'll rely on texting and searching the house, inside and out, to find someone...Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-14114494908425021582011-10-25T19:59:00.000-06:002016-03-16T12:22:47.713-06:00CaptionCall PhoneI just got this today ...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q1Fj7XvTPDM/Tqdj8430QaI/AAAAAAAAIo4/s3RDRyuiGqk/s1600/DSC_0774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q1Fj7XvTPDM/Tqdj8430QaI/AAAAAAAAIo4/s3RDRyuiGqk/s640/DSC_0774.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
It is a CaptionCall phone!</div>
<br />
My son called me from Ohio and this is what came up. It uses a voice recognition software to caption everything the caller on the other end says.<br />
<br />
As you can see, it is not perfect, but better than the alternative... Border reviews is actually, "Board of Reviews," but I understand the meaning. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OeWbL1phofI/TqdkOqwqzKI/AAAAAAAAIpA/uCbw5efedHs/s1600/DSC_0775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="424" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OeWbL1phofI/TqdkOqwqzKI/AAAAAAAAIpA/uCbw5efedHs/s640/DSC_0775.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Anything in <b style="color: #38761d;">GREEN</b> has been changed by a real person, who reviews what is being captioned and corrects the word(s) that the voice recognition software may have entered incorrectly.<br />
<br />
Get this: if I have a cell phone message, I can hold the message to the speaker and have CaptionCall translate it for me ~ cool, huh? <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--h7W3vcsmEo/TqdkhqUhlPI/AAAAAAAAIpI/Q6hFmYD7vg8/s1600/DSC_0776.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/--h7W3vcsmEo/TqdkhqUhlPI/AAAAAAAAIpI/Q6hFmYD7vg8/s320/DSC_0776.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
There is a $100 installation fee, but it was waived through <a href="http://studio5.ksl.com/?nid=71&sid=17649608">a special promotion on KSL.com.</a> This promotion is good until the end of the year.<br />
<br />
Does it cost me anything to use this phone? No. The service is provided through FCC fund that compensates telephone companies, making this service <b>FREE</b> to ANYONE who is deaf or hard of hearing. That includes anyone who is late deafened or wears a hearing aid. Cool!<br />
<br />
The phone belongs to <a href="https://www.captioncall.com/captioncall/">CaptionCall, </a>and doesn't charge me anything to have it in my home.<br />
<br />
I'm not sure how often I will use it, because I rely on my cell phone/text messaging more often.<br />
<br />
I'm still figuring out how to use this. If I find out any cool features, I'll be sure to let you know!<br />
<br />
**UPDATE<br />
<br />
After having this for a couple of years, I found that it doesn't work for me. The captioning is very delayed and often the autocorrect feature drives me nuts. If the person editing the captions can't hear or the voice is distorted, the conversation becomes difficult to follow. The software needs to be better in order for the service to be better. I returned the CaptionCall with no questions or pressure to keep it.<br />
<br />
For now, I have no land line and use my cell phone for all my calls. I rely on TEXTING, which has been WONDERFUL for me.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-28500455299856318282011-10-04T21:59:00.001-06:002011-10-05T14:33:15.012-06:00I'm Not Stupid<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dm2JWXuR3KQ/TovQ-iODQqI/AAAAAAAAIjw/OrqKSZbVMVQ/s1600/old%252C+stupid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="312" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dm2JWXuR3KQ/TovQ-iODQqI/AAAAAAAAIjw/OrqKSZbVMVQ/s640/old%252C+stupid.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
I love to read the comics and love Real Life Adventures; however, this particular comic struck a nerve.<br />
<br />
Several years ago, I ran up some outside stairs, missed one stair and my knee landed on cement. I had some swelling, no bruising, but had difficulty walking.<br />
<br />
After a short trip to a local clinic, the doctor could not find anything on my x-ray and referred me to an orthopedic specialist, hoping he could find a hidden fracture.<br />
<br />
I brought my husband with me, and I'm glad I did.<br />
<br />
All three of us were sitting in the exam room and the doctor began talking while looking at my file and x-rays. I was having trouble understanding what he was saying because he was not looking at me. I glanced at my husband, who was listening intently.<br />
<br />
After a few moments, I finally spoke up and said, "I'm sorry. I'm hearing impaired and I'm having trouble understanding you. Can you look at me so I can lip-read you?"<br />
<br />
<i>Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you were playing stupid.</i><br />
<br />
Everything he said after that faded away. I was shocked. I looked at my husband and shot him a glance. He was still looking at the doctor and listening to what was being said.<br />
<br />
<i>Did I really just hear him say that? I'm pretty sure he said that. What else could he have said?</i> <i>Was he being sarcastic? I don't know....</i><br />
<br />
I was still reeling, replaying the conversation in my head while we headed out the door to the receptionist's desk and made an appointment.<br />
<br />
As soon as we got inside the car, I asked my husband, "<i>Did he really say, 'I thought you were playing stupid?"</i><br />
<br />
My husband's shoulders dropped and he looked down at his lap. "I was really hoping you didn't hear that," he said regretfully.<br />
<br />
<i>Well, I don't want to see him again. Why would I want to see a doctor like that?</i><br />
<br />
My husband quickly got out of the car and said he'd be right back. Five minutes later, he came back, saying that he had cancelled the appointment .... and ...<br />
<br />
he told the doctor why.<br />
<br />
To his face. <i> *gasp*</i><br />
<br />
<i>What did you say?</i><br />
<br />
I told him something along the lines that he was rude, unprofessional, and never should treat anyone, even if they didn't have a hearing loss, like that.<br />
<br />
<i>What did the doctor say?</i><br />
<br />
Oh, that he was just joking around; he has cousins with hearing loss....etc, etc. I told him that it didn't matter and that we weren't coming back.<br />
<br />
<br />
My husband, my hero.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-55563960482867039872011-09-23T21:04:00.000-06:002011-09-23T21:04:04.112-06:00Never Mind...<b>Never mind.</b><br />
<br />
What comes to mind when you hear these words?<br />
<br />
<i>Huh? </i><br />
<br />
<i>Did I really hear that?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>I'm not important enough for you to repeat what you just said.</i><br />
<br />
The definition from Wikitonary:<br />
<i> </i><br />
<h3><span class="mw-headline" id="Verb">Verb</span></h3><b class="Latn" lang="en"><a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/never" title="never">never</a> <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/mind" title="mind">mind</a></b> <span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">(</span></span><span class="ib-content"><span class="qualifier-content">only in imperative</span></span><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">)</span></span><br />
<ol><li>It is not <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/important" title="important">important</a>; do not <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/fret" title="fret">fret</a>; <span class="use-with-mention">used to <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/reassure" title="reassure">reassure</a> or <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/comfort" title="comfort">comfort</a> the person to whom it is said</span>.<br />
<dl><dd><i>I’m afraid I’ve broken your mug. — <b>Never mind</b>, it was old and I was going to throw it away.</i></dd><dd><i>Did you fall over and hurt your knee? <b>Never mind</b>, I’ll put a bandage on it.</i></dd></dl></li><br />
<li>Do not be concerned (about someone or something, or about doing something)<br />
<dl><dd><i><b>Never mind</b> about me — you go and I’ll join you later.</i></dd><dd><i>Here’s some money for you. <b>Never mind</b> about paying me back; you can keep it.</i></dd></dl></li><br />
<li>I <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/withdraw" title="withdraw">withdraw</a> my previous statement.<br />
<dl><dd><i>You’re a fool. — What did you call me? — <b>Never mind</b>.</i></dd></dl></li><br />
</ol><h4><span class="editsection"></span><span class="mw-headline" id="Synonyms">Synonyms</span></h4><ul><li><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">(</span></span><span class="ib-content"><span class="qualifier-content">it is not important</span></span><span class="ib-brac"><span class="qualifier-brac">)</span></span><span class="ib-colon"><span class="sense-qualifier-colon">:</span></span> <a class="new" href="http://en.wiktionary.org/w/index.php?title=forget_about_it&action=edit&redlink=1" title="forget about it (page does not exist)">forget about it</a>, <a href="http://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/forget_it" title="forget it">forget it</a></li>
</ul><h4><span class="editsection"><br />
</span> <span class="mw-headline" id="Translations"></span></h4><i> </i><br />
<br />
Many, many, MANY times, when my husband says it, it just means that the moment has passed.<br />
<br />
For example, he may say, "<i>Would you give me a hand?</i>"<br />
<br />
<i>What?</i><br />
<br />
<i>Never mind. I got it.</i><br />
<br />
I bristle when I hear these words and need to remember to reply calmly that I still want to know what he said, no matter what.<br />
<br />
He does repeat what was said, and it helps me understand why he said, "never mind." <br />
<br />
It makes me feel included.<br />
<br />
And that is important to me.<br />
<br />
Thanks, honey.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-1185613906699392562011-05-06T13:25:00.000-06:002011-05-06T13:25:47.671-06:00Fortune CookiesI love Chinese food. I have a favorite Chinese restaurant that I love in my neighborhood. I have even been able to replicate one of my favorite dishes there, <a href="http://www.friedalovesbread.com/2008/11/gen-tsaos-chicken-step-by-step.html">General Tso's chicken</a>. Fortune cookies are given with the check. <br />
<br />
While searching through my winter coat pocket, I found three wrapped fortune cookies. I don't put much stock into fortune cookies, but they are always fun to read.<br />
<br />
Here's fortune number one:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UgwzO9pbaHI/TcRJ4bIiWXI/AAAAAAAAIC4/tRL5CAzK6RY/s1600/IMG_9016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UgwzO9pbaHI/TcRJ4bIiWXI/AAAAAAAAIC4/tRL5CAzK6RY/s400/IMG_9016.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
<i>Hmmmm</i>....I have had several people tell me, that in spite of my hearing loss, I am a good listener.<br />
<br />
Fortune number two:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yc4c9bLd4ag/TcRKHbO82HI/AAAAAAAAIC8/42efXotjjug/s1600/IMG_9017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Yc4c9bLd4ag/TcRKHbO82HI/AAAAAAAAIC8/42efXotjjug/s400/IMG_9017.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
Also interesting. I have two close friends and the rest are acquaintances. It is hard for me to make new friends, but I guess now is the time!<br />
<br />
Fortune number three: (yes, I opened up the third one....curiosity got the best of me!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3hTOKa4inwc/TcRKdcmxKPI/AAAAAAAAIDA/1fuV1sy_1_c/s1600/IMG_9019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3hTOKa4inwc/TcRKdcmxKPI/AAAAAAAAIDA/1fuV1sy_1_c/s400/IMG_9019.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br />
To those of you who are reading this, thank you. Thank you for "listening" to me and thank you for being my online friend!Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-53870067105257687402011-05-03T21:16:00.000-06:002011-05-03T21:16:16.371-06:00Games Kids Play...and Sometimes AdultsI was not social as a child. I learned how to play by myself. As a toddler, I was very much the explorer, opening every cupboard and drawer to discover what was hiding. I never watched t.v. as I could not understand cartoons or even the Muppets on Sesame Street. Who could lip read and understand what they were saying? My favorite cartoon series was The Pink Panther ~ no dialogue and full of slapstick humor. I would watch Mr. Rogers from time to time, but when it came to his puppet segment, I would tune out and find something else to do.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJ5_Zp_nKOg/TcDCYj3KskI/AAAAAAAAIBs/vgDarx1rMdo/s1600/pink-panther.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BJ5_Zp_nKOg/TcDCYj3KskI/AAAAAAAAIBs/vgDarx1rMdo/s320/pink-panther.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
My first birthday party invitation came while I was in Kindergarten. I distinctly remember one of the games. It was where your character name was written on a piece of paper and taped to your back. The party members would give you "clues" as to who your character was.<br />
<br />
I didn't fully understand the "rules" and instead wandered from person to person during the game, as they animatedly gestured while giving clues and exclaiming when the child got the "right answer." Fairly quickly, it became apparent that I was the <b>ONLY</b> one who had<b> NOT</b> guessed who my character was.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LOhjVrh_nV8/TcDC97ejubI/AAAAAAAAIBw/zf9E7K7UXGk/s1600/fun-group-activities-kids-800x800.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LOhjVrh_nV8/TcDC97ejubI/AAAAAAAAIBw/zf9E7K7UXGk/s320/fun-group-activities-kids-800x800.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
A small crowd of children gathered in front of me. All at once, they began giving me clues at the same time. A bewildered look came across my face. I put my focus on the child directly in front of me. This is what I understood the child to be saying:<br />
<br />
"<i>You live on Sesame Street</i>."<br />
<br />
"<i>You're green</i>."<br />
<br />
"<i>You're mean</i>."<br />
<br />
Mean? Who is mean? I was confused and didn't know how or what to answer. <br />
<br />
The child raised his voice a little louder, enunciating each word,<br />
<br />
"<i>You live in a garbage can.</i>"<br />
<br />
I finally said, "I don't know who it is."<br />
<br />
Everybody threw their hands into the air and in unison said,<br />
<br />
"You're OSCAR THE GROUCH!"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9XinnmivL38/TcDDsSW73pI/AAAAAAAAIB0/CQnIYsRuWrg/s1600/36d4d35e4a51ae19db0ede9bf3e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9XinnmivL38/TcDDsSW73pI/AAAAAAAAIB0/CQnIYsRuWrg/s320/36d4d35e4a51ae19db0ede9bf3e1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
Two years ago, at a Christmas neighborhood party, the guests were given characters from television shows and movies. My mind flashed back to my classmate's kindergarten birthday party....<br />
<br />
I politely declined to participate and headed straight for the kitchen and asked how I could help with the food.<br />
<br />
<i>*Whew*</i>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-68057088153065429722011-04-26T12:50:00.000-06:002011-04-26T12:50:51.662-06:00Dual PersonalitySometimes I feel like I have a dual personality. Part of me is outgoing, talkative and social. The other part of me is quiet, submissive, and introverted.<br />
<br />
When I am in small group settings of six or less people, I can be friendly and feel accepted. Especially if I am surrounded by people that I know. Put me into a large gathering, and my personality changes. I become a wallflower, an observer, or even shy.<br />
<br />
My hearing loss is a large part of me and a part of my personality. Recently, I attended a large banquet for my son, who was to receive an award as a high school senior. It was held in a large, open ballroom located at a nearby university.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qBXfNpvN9vA/TbcSfEZuH6I/AAAAAAAAH-I/7ydpliZIrSA/s1600/dinner+table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="187" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qBXfNpvN9vA/TbcSfEZuH6I/AAAAAAAAH-I/7ydpliZIrSA/s320/dinner+table.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
As I scanned the multitude of round tables, people and....more people. It was huge. People were talking with one another and the "noise" was echoing all around me. We were led to our table, with name cards indicating where we would sit.<br />
<br />
I immediately switched our name cards around to have my husband and son sit next to me on my right, which is the side I hear much better. To my left, sat one of my son's teachers. Introductions were quickly made with another set of parents and their son at the table with us. Seven people at a round table isn't too bad, is it?<br />
<br />
After delving into our salads, my husband quietly touched my arm. I looked at him and then he pointed to the teacher on my left. Apparently, she had tried to talk to me and I didn't respond. I looked at her and she repeated herself. I can't remember what she said, but I believe I answered her question.<br />
<br />
I then explained to her that I have a hearing impairment and couldn't hear out of my left side. I told her jokingly that if she said something and I didn't respond, I wasn't trying to ignore her.<br />
<br />
I believe that was the last time she initiated any more conversation with me. The other part of my personality emerged....the next two hours were spent looking at my food, eating, and trying to figure out who got what award and what everyone around the table was saying. I would smile, nod, and pretend that I was part of the conversation. There was just too much background noise to figure out what was being said. Though the food was good, I was happy to have the event over with. <br />
<br />
The best part of the night? My son was awarded the University of Utah Chemistry Student of the year and an Academic Award for his GPA. This was one of the the moments that I am glad that I was a part of and did not miss.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-10995580211025304022011-02-07T20:17:00.000-07:002011-02-07T20:17:15.644-07:00Deaf Disrimination and JobsI just watched the show, "What Would You Do?" yesterday. I enjoy watching the show because of the people that stand up for what is right and wrong. Depending on the circumstances, it seems like the majority of people "do not want to get involved." <br />
<br />
This particular episode resonated with me. You can watch it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uqI1d4rLWSM">HERE</a>.<br />
<br />
In summary, two girls (actors) go into a coffee shop to apply for a kitchen position. The managers are also actors and they are instructed to tell the deaf applicants that they will "not be able to hire" them. Why? Because they are "deaf" or "not a good fit." "If you can't hear me, how are we going to communicate?" "You can make a list." The two actors try to tell the managers that they have the skills and that the manager can "write things down" for them. The managers again tell them that they are welcome to fill out the application, but they still will not be hiring them.<br />
<br />
The hope was that someone, <i>anyone</i>, would stand up to the managers and tell them that they could not discriminate against these two applicants. Sure, the video showed many customers that were stunned and appalled by the actions of the manager. But....they said and did....nothing.<br />
<br />
A couple of people did stand up to the manager, but the most <b>surprising </b>of all were the three people that worked in human resources/recruitment that spoke up AFTER the applicants had left. They tell the manager(s) that they shouldn't have done that and that it is discrimination. But what they also told them was that they should just accept the application and NOT hire them. Huh? "Just accept it and don't call."<br />
<br />
Un...be.....lie...vable.<br />
<br />
Only one man in the coffee shop openly tells the manager out loud that what he is doing is unacceptable and threatens to not come back for business. This guy should be wearing a cape. A true modern-day hero. <br />
<br />
This type of action usually happens behind closed doors, but ABC wanted to bring it out into the open to see what people would do. Did it happen to me? I don't know.<br />
<br />
Well, most of my jobs as a teen were spent babysitting kids for $1 per hour. I was great at it till I discovered dating and suddenly, I wasn't available to babysit on weekends. During one or two summers, I cleaned an elementary school. (My dad was the principal. Nowadays, you can't hire family members...district policy). I guess my first "real" job was at a nearby cookie factory. I was probably one of three people that spoke English. I befriended several Hispanic and a couple of Laotian girls that worked with me. <br />
<br />
When school started, I had permission to leave for the afternoon as part of "OJT: On the Job Training." Part of the deal was one of my teachers was assigned to visit the facility where I worked and have one of my managers evaluate me. My teacher shared my evaluation and I was surprised. Of course, I was on time, but my performance was lacking because "I couldn't hear."<br />
<br />
I was laid off with many other workers during the holidays. The next summer, after my first year of college, I applied for and got a job at a local jewelry store. I felt that if I told the owner of my hearing impairment, he would not hire me. I got the job and it lasted three months. <br />
<br />
I walked in one day and he asked me into his office. He handed me a pink slip and told me that I wasn't making him enough money. I also wasn't answering the phone. (I wasn't the only person working the counter; there were two other girls there and no one told me that I had to answer the phone). He said that I should get my hearing checked; I walked out the door and cried all the way home. <br />
<br />
From then on, I have been very selective about jobs. One job required a typing test and an interview. I passed the test and the interview with flying colors. When the manager called me to say I got the job, I told her that I would be happy to accept, but that she needed to know one thing.<br />
<br />
After I told her about my hearing, there was a brief moment of silence. "Well, will you be able to use a phone?" she asked. "I'm using a phone right now. Is it a job requirement that I be able to answer phones?" I replied. "I guess not," she answered.<br />
<br />
Does deaf/hard of hearing discrimination still exist? Perhaps. I hope this show opened up doors for recruiters, managers, and owners alike to communicate with prospective applicants and explore alternatives to the job description. A little bit of education can go a long ways....Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-29834651260292334532011-01-19T14:56:00.000-07:002011-01-19T14:56:46.865-07:00Golf Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TTddpxN1ScI/AAAAAAAAHdY/db74c4KQcRw/s1600/golf.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TTddpxN1ScI/AAAAAAAAHdY/db74c4KQcRw/s1600/golf.jpg" /></a></div>Three men, each with untreated hearing loss, finished their round of golf.<br />
<br />
The first one said, "<i>Windy, isn't it</i>?"<br />
<br />
"No," the second man replied, <i>'It's Thursday.</i>"<br />
<br />
That's when the third man chimed in, "<i>So am . Let's get a beer.</i>"Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-46443951488532669602010-11-09T19:54:00.000-07:002010-11-09T19:54:34.027-07:00Elementary School ~ and BulliesElementary school was hard for me. Not in the academic sense, but in the social, friend-making sense. Kindergarten was a blur of crafts, snacks and story time. I believe I kept mostly to myself. First grade came around and I struggled initially with reading. Once I caught on, I never stopped. My mom affectionally called me, "Frieda-nose-in-the-book."<br />
<br />
I recall having reading contests in second grade to see who could read the most books. I won, and was gifted with a mystery book, inscribed with a message from my teacher. I still have that book to this day.<br />
<br />
Second grade was when the teasing started. Or at least, when I <b>noticed</b> that the teasing started. Being hearing impaired, it is a blessing not to be able to hear the hurtful things that are being said. When I don't respond, it either goes away or someone decides to up the ante.<br />
<br />
One day, I couldn't find my coat where it should be hanging outside the classroom. Someone told me that a particular girl put it in the lost and found. She was upset when I "found" my coat and we got into a verbal, fighting match. I don't think it lasted long, as it was after school and we had to run to catch the bus.<br />
<br />
Third grade wasn't much better. We had to individually stand in the front of the classroom and orally recite our times tables. In the middle of the year, a new girl was introduced to the class. A girl that wore a different kind of hearing aid. One that you could <b>see</b>. After meeting and talking with her, I discovered that her hearing loss was more profound than mine. That explained her ultra-powerful hearing aids that had wires connected to a box that was in her pocket. She, too, did not like getting up in front of the class to recite her times tables. Her voice was different, and she struggled with pronouncing certain words. I finally felt like I could connect with someone and we became friends.<br />
<br />
On the bus ride to school, I noticed a pen that was stuck beneath the heater. While I was trying to pry it out, one of the school bullies pushed me aside, also trying to get the pen. When he couldn't get it out, he started yelling at me, telling me it was my fault that 'his' pen got stuck in the heater. I ignored him and shrugged it off.<br />
<br />
Later, during recess, that same bully climbed on top of a playground gym and jumped onto my back, knocking me down to the ground. I rolled over, and pinned his arms and legs down, a trick I learned from wrestling with my brothers.<br />
<br />
He began screaming and spitting into my face. After a couple of minutes, I let him go and gave him a swift kick in the behind. I went to class, thinking it was over. During the next recess, my teacher called me over and disciplined me, saying that "girls should not fight" and kept me in for recess. <br />
<br />
Fourth and fifth grades came and went and I had some fabulous teachers. My fifth grade teacher had a brace on her leg and understood kids who didn't fit in. She loved putting her arms around the kids. She said what she meant and meant what she said. <br />
<br />
She said a swear word in class and immediately asked me to go to the teacher's lounge and get her a diet Tab drink. Looking at her and watching her chewing on a bite of soap spurred me to action. When I came back, she had swallowed the bite of soap. And drank the Tab.<br />
<br />
In the middle of sixth grade, our new school two blocks down the road was finished. We carried chairs down the street and marveled at the new building. It was different. The first thing I noticed was the classrooms did not have walls. They were called, "open" classrooms. Very quickly, I noticed how echo-y everything sounded and it was very difficult to understand everything that was said. <br />
<br />
I noticed that the school bully had a friend. He was also a bully. They would get into trouble a lot. One teacher even locked up one of the bullies in a closet. We could hear him screaming, and then crying. <br />
<br />
During recess, one of those bullies had an aluminum bat. He swung it at me and I turned my head. The bat landed on my hearing aid, cracking the shell. I remember my mom meeting with the principal and then sending in the aid to be fixed. <br />
<br />
I was so looking forward to seventh grade.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-44206507184395028112010-09-28T14:41:00.000-06:002010-09-28T14:41:40.803-06:00Listening...Stop. <br />
Look. <br />
Listen.<br />
<br />
Many years ago, I met a neighbor who turned out to become a very good close friend. It was so easy and natural to talk to her; we had so much in common. She is a teacher and so am I. Her husband is a computer programmer and so is mine. We have sons, not daughters. We love to cook and bake.<br />
<br />
What also drew me to her was her sense of humor. This allowed me to relax and tell her more about myself. I explained my hearing loss to her and how it affected me on a daily basis. In fact, she is the very same friend who was with me during my <a href="http://hardofhearingmom.blogspot.com/2010/05/what-do-i-hear-timpanogos-cave.html">"Timpanogos Cave" </a>moment. <br />
<br />
Several years later, she paid me one of the most interesting compliments. Looking right at me, she said, "Frieda, you are the best listener I have ever met." <i> Huh? Me?</i> She continued, "Just because you don't have the best hearing, doesn't mean that you don't know how to listen. I feel that I have your full, undivided attention and that you really care about me."<br />
<br />
We can all be that kind of person to someone. Someone who knows how to listen. How do I listen? I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">stop</span> whatever I'm doing and make sure that I am facing that person. Even though I am lip-reading most of the time, I make sure that I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">look</span> into their eyes from time to time. A person's eyes will give you valuable information about their true inner emotions.<br />
<br />
Interrupting is not the hallmark of a good listener, but sometimes I do it. I wait for a pause, thinking it is the end of their sentence, and start speaking. That's an accidental interruption. Sometimes, I purposely interrupt. Why? To <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">check</span> for understanding. I will often say, <i>"So you are saying....."</i> and repeat what I think I heard. This confirms to the person talking that I am really trying to listen and understand what they are saying. Sometimes, I will stop the person mid-sentence and ask them to slow down, look at me, or ahem...finish eating before talking to me, which is usually my kids. Did you know that we speak at the rate of about 125 words per minute? I'm sorry, but my brain can't keep up...I'm not only trying to listen, but I'm trying to figure out that <span class="Apple-style-span">one</span> word in the sentence that I missed. You know, that one word that can change the entire meaning of the sentence?<br />
<br />
I ask questions or state back what I think I hear. Asking questions gives me control of the topic, which I often miss in a group setting, but also shows interest in the speaker. If someone asks me to meet them at the park at 4:30, I will say, "I'll see you at the Lone Peak Park tomorrow at 4:30." Then the speaker has an opportunity to correct me if I am wrong. <br />
<br />
I am a literal listener. I have difficulty picking up the little nuances and subtleties in conversation. Sarcasm is a good example. My hearing does not allow me to pick up the tone of voice that one uses in sarcasm. Often, I will ask if they are being serious or not. <i>"Are you really.....?"</i><br />
<br />
I'm still working on my listening skills. Sometimes, it's not that simple. It's easy with friends, but a little more challenging with a spouse, children or parents. Try it. It may work a small miracle.Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-87502234239472348972010-09-13T19:58:00.000-06:002010-09-13T19:58:55.633-06:00MusicIn my last post, I mentioned that I play the piano for the Primary children in my church. A hearing impaired person playing the piano? Yes, it's true.<br />
<br />
Many years ago, my sister, two years older than me, was taking piano lessons. I would sit next to her and listen to her practice every day. I began begging my mom to let me take piano lessons. <br />
<br />
"But you're not old enough," my mom would tell me.<br />
<i>"How old do I need to be?"</i><br />
"Old enough to read." This was the piano teacher's requirement.<br />
<br />
I was only five years old and in kindergarten. I knew my A, B, C's, but did not know how to read. I begged and persuaded my mom further, just knowing that I could play the piano...I wanted to learn to play <i>so desperately.</i><br />
<br />
Why was I so desperate? It was because I had never heard nor paid much attention to music. My earliest recollection of music was cranking up the volume of a small, battery operated radio and holding it smack dab against my right ear. I didn't get to listen to it very long, as it was quickly snatched away. In the middle of my Kindergarten year, I was fitted with hearing aids and music got my attention.<br />
<br />
So, when I heard those beautiful notes coming from our black upright piano, I just knew I had to learn to play. Grudgingly, my sister's piano teacher agreed to give me a try.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TI7VMQbpB9I/AAAAAAAAGtM/zVd8gXpmBuc/s1600/FriedaBlackPiano.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TI7VMQbpB9I/AAAAAAAAGtM/zVd8gXpmBuc/s320/FriedaBlackPiano.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I learned to play on this black upright piano</i></div><br />
I flew through Schaum's beginner's set of piano books and worked my way through the colors. Green, red, then blue. I started practicing 15 minutes per day and gradually worked my way to 1 hour daily. I learned to play the classics from Brahms, Beethoven and Chopin. Recitals were held once per year in which we memorized a piece chosen by our teacher and performed it for all the parents and students. Scales and chords were required and I dreaded learning them, as I did not see a practical purpose for them.<br />
<br />
In the middle of my 7th grade year, I wanted to quit lessons and I did. In reality, I probably should have switched teachers. Seven years with one teacher felt like a lifetime. She did, however, let me choose which Hymns and Primary songs to play, which I am grateful. <br />
<br />
For a very short period, I had the goal to become a concert pianist. I dreamed of playing difficult pieces, with my fingers flying across the keyboard. I pushed myself, and slowly came to the realization that I had reached my <s>limit </s>potential. If I played a wrong note, I didn't know. The only way to know for sure was to look at my hands.<br />
<br />
I now play the piano for my own enjoyment. I can pick and choose any song I want to play. Playing music that fits my mood. Playing music to change my mood, uplift me, or for an escape. I'm grateful that I can hear most of the notes from the piano and for my parents, who recognized a desire to play.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TI7VpPAan7I/AAAAAAAAGtU/PzFjP2rqtiQ/s1600/Samick_041808_wordpress.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TI7VpPAan7I/AAAAAAAAGtU/PzFjP2rqtiQ/s320/Samick_041808_wordpress.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>I love playing on my white baby grand!</i></div><br />
Can you be deaf and enjoy music? I'm sure you can. I recently read an<a href="http://www.parade.com/news/backpage/mitch-albom/100714-finding-his-beat.html"> article about Sean Forbes</a>, a deaf musician who helped form D-PAN (Deaf Professional Arts Network), and holds music concerts. When I was in college and taking ASL (American Sign Language), a Sign/Song competition was regularly held every spring.<br />
<br />
Do you enjoy music? If so, what type of music do you listen to? Do you play an instrument? If so, I would love to know!Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-90952585705136642362010-08-28T22:45:00.000-06:002010-08-28T22:45:53.075-06:00Reminders and a Pity Party for OneTonight, I am reminded of my hearing loss. Sure, I am reminded every morning when I put on my hearing aids, but once they're on, I don't feel any different. My hearing loss is not a constant, daily reminder; just an occasional one. I am not an actively social person, especially in large groups, but I force myself to attend such functions. Why? To remind myself that I am an adult, human, and a woman who needs such contact from time to time.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>In church, I play the piano for the Primary aged children (ages 4-12) every Sunday, so there is no opportunity to "rub shoulders" with the ladies in church and have a social visit. So when our church hosts a social function, such as a dinner, I force myself to get out and get to know these people that I see every Sunday. The dinner is located under a pavilion outside the church building. I see neighbors that I haven't seen in ages.. After eating my meal, I notice several ladies sitting at a separate table and decide to join them, an assertive move on my part.</div><div><br />
</div><div>There are five ladies in all, each chatting animately about what was going on in their lives. Mostly it is about their children. They are talking about their daughters and even though I have two boys, I try to find something in common to share with them. One lady comments on how cute my sandals are and I tell her where I got them. Another gal tells me that a group of ladies are getting together later, going to the dollar theater to see a movie and invite me to go. "What time?" I ask. "8:15" "I would love to come." I then overhear the ladies chatting about carpooling together. I ask who is going to drive and a few of the ladies begin chatting over each other, asking each other how many seats their car will hold. One gal mentions, "Oh, we'll come around and pick everybody up." </div><div><br />
</div><div>I go home, excited about going on a GNO (Girl's Night Out) and getting to know these ladies better. 8:15 came and went. I go to my neighbor's house two doors down to see if I could get a ride with her. Her husband answers the door. I ask if she has left for the movie. He said that she had left. Then it dawns on me..."Did the movie start at 8:15?" "Yes...I'm so sorry," he says. "Oh, it's no problem."</div><div><br />
</div><div>Really? No problem? I rarely go to movies, let alone with a group of people. It's hard to lip read many of the actors and the background music always interferes with understanding the dialogue. However, it was nice to be invited and I was looking forward to going. My face becomes hot and my eyes begin to sting. I try to fight back the tears as I am walking home. I walk into my house and throw my purse onto the floor. My husband asks what was wrong. I simply tell him that the movie started at 8:15. </div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm angry. I'm not angry with the ladies who invited me. They don't understand my hearing loss. I'm not angry with myself for not making sure about the details. I'm not angry with my husband, who is trying quietly to console me. I'm angry that I cannot hear as well as everybody else. Sometimes, I wish I didn't have to work so hard to fit in. I wish I could hear better, enjoy conversations more and be able to relax and enjoy a movie without captions. Occasionally, like tonight, I am reminded that I am unable to do some things and though I try to fight it, the tears will come. "It is what it is," I tell myself, "and no one is to blame." I can't change what happened. It is a pity party of one, and no one is invited. I allow myself to have this party and let the emotions come. I know the party will be short and will come to an eventual end. </div><div><br />
</div><div>That's the interesting part. I have this ability to push through my emotions fairly quickly and begin the next day as if nothing had ever happened. I don't hold grudges or worry about the "could'ves, would'ves, or should'ves." Talking about my feelings helps, but no one, not my husband or kids, understands how it feels to be hearing impaired. So, here I am writing about these feelings so I can look at tomorrow as a clean slate; another chance to start over. </div><div><br />
</div><div><br />
</div>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-16739378594291584372010-06-25T13:32:00.000-06:002010-06-25T13:32:59.734-06:00Hair<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TCTye-7KotI/AAAAAAAAGZs/XG8wob_LSjI/s1600/Frieda.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TCTye-7KotI/AAAAAAAAGZs/XG8wob_LSjI/s200/Frieda.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>"Give me a head with hair, long beautiful flaxen hair.<br />
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.<br />
Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer hair<br />
Here baby, there momma, ev'rywhere daddy, daddy..."<br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">from the muscial, Hair</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i><br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></i><br />
I have always had long hair. Shoulder length or longer. My aunt was a beautician/hair stylist. My mom explained to my aunt that I was going to have a swimming class as a seventh grader that fall, and suggested that I get my hair cut short. "It would be so much easier to take care of her hair; and she wouldn't be late for her next class." I really don't remember being a part of this conversation, but I do remember crying when she was done cutting my hair.<br />
<br />
"I look like a boy!" I cried. She had even used a shaver for the back of my hair. I have never worried about my hair until this incident. I have always been able to cover my ears with my long hair. I remember a boy in my sixth grade elementary school that wore hearing aids. "<i>He doesn't have a choice to cover his ears</i>," I remember thinking. "<i>Everyone knows that he is hard of hearing</i>."<br />
<br />
A few years ago, I asked my husband if I should cut my hair short. <br />
<br />
"No, I like it long," he told me. <br />
"I have to wash it, blow it dry, curl it, and you end up sleeping on it!"<br />
"Well, <b>I</b> have to look at it."<br />
<br />
<i>Sigh.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
I like having my hair out of my face, so I will usually pull it up into a ponytail.<br />
<br />
But I never wear a ponytail in public.<br />
<br />
Until now. I went to Costco, looking like this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TCTyg6VBVYI/AAAAAAAAGZ0/Tk1AH2ZaYMM/s1600/Frieda+Side.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/TCTyg6VBVYI/AAAAAAAAGZ0/Tk1AH2ZaYMM/s200/Frieda+Side.jpg" width="185" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I tell you, it's total freedom!</div>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-53767592693784146412010-05-17T15:54:00.000-06:002010-05-17T15:54:44.428-06:00*Ring* *Ring*"Mom, the phone's ringing."<br />
<br />
(I can't hear the phone ringing or see it anywhere)<br />
<br />
<i>Why are you telling me that? Can't you answer it?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
The phone rarely rings at my house, and when it does, it is usually for someone else, not me. Recently, I am wishing that phones had cords on them. Remember those? <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S_G5VJsIlwI/AAAAAAAAGBQ/8In-nLlzBD4/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S_G5VJsIlwI/AAAAAAAAGBQ/8In-nLlzBD4/s320/images.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Those phones would <b>NEVER</b> get lost. <br />
Cordless phones would <b>NEVER</b> run out of battery charge.<br />
<br />
My cordless phones have a button that will page the 'lost' phone. It doesn't do me any good...I can hear the ringing, but wouldn't be able to tell you <b>which direction</b> it's coming from. <br />
<br />
I have thought many times about 'ditching' my land line and using my cell phone exclusively. <br />
<br />
Think about it...<br />
<br />
No telemarketers calling me to take advantage of the energy rebates for attic insulation...<br />
<br />
<i>I already did that two summers ago AND got my rebate.</i><br />
<br />
No non-profit groups calling me to ask for donations...<br />
<br />
I<i> already have a favorite charity that I regularly donate to</i>.<br />
<br />
Nobody calling for one of my kids...<br />
<br />
<i>I'm not sure where they are. Have you tried their cell phone?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
No strangers that are trying to pronounce my last name...<br />
<br />
<i>If you don't know me, don't call me.</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
Why do I still have a land line? For one reason only. In an emergency. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S_G5sG7JAlI/AAAAAAAAGBY/FNVlMF7xAxM/s1600/911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S_G5sG7JAlI/AAAAAAAAGBY/FNVlMF7xAxM/s320/911.jpg" /></a></div>Two years ago, I was near the LA airport when there was a 6.0 earthquake in a nearby city. I saw dozens of people looking up at the sky and trying to use their cell phones. Many of these people were unable to use their cell phones. When you have hundreds and thousands of people trying to use their cell phones in one location at the same time, the cell phone tower overloads and becomes 'locked up.'<br />
<br />
In an emergency, the 911 operators would know my exact location on a land phone line. Land lines are most likely to be repaired first in the event of a natural disaster.<br />
<br />
For now, I have Comcast VOIP basic phone service with a battery backup for $25 per month. I have thought about using other services, but it is very important that I have a<b> CLEAR</b> connection.<br />
<br />
I am still new to Skype, and texting. What is your favorite way to communicate?Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-20765997334287403072010-05-13T12:42:00.000-06:002010-05-13T12:42:18.739-06:00ToothpasteMy husband and I were wandering the aisles of Costco last night. Did I say wandering? <i>Ooops</i>. I meant to say "purposefully walking" down the aisles. You can't wander in Costco. It's too dangerous. You will almost always end up spending more than you wanted. Have a list. Be prepared.<br />
<br />
Our list was a mental one. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mzW9ln9YI/AAAAAAAAF5s/3FTIjBGiDJM/s1600/milk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mzW9ln9YI/AAAAAAAAF5s/3FTIjBGiDJM/s320/milk.jpg" /></a></div>Milk. <br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Check.</i> <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mzeKGQpVI/AAAAAAAAF50/RWQhqzV9cnA/s1600/eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mzeKGQpVI/AAAAAAAAF50/RWQhqzV9cnA/s320/eggs.jpg" /></a></div>Eggs. <br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>Check</i>. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
We were passing through the toiletries section (I still don't understand where the word "toiletries" come from), you know, the section with the shampoo, soap, and bathroom stuff are...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mz0IL3t6I/AAAAAAAAF58/3Dfpk4dAwXM/s1600/toothpaste.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-mz0IL3t6I/AAAAAAAAF58/3Dfpk4dAwXM/s320/toothpaste.jpg" /></a></div> My husband said, "What about toothpaste?"<br />
<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
<i>"I know we have some."</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
"Where?"<br />
<br />
<i>"Under the sink in the bathroom." <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">(this is where I store the extra boxes of toothpaste)</span></i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
"Under the sink? That's a strange place to put toothpaste."<br />
<br />
"That's where I always put the toothpaste."<br />
<br />
Then it dawned on him that I said <b>Toothpaste. </b>He smiled. Chuckled.<br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
"I'm talking about tooth<b>PICKS</b>..."<br />
<br />
"<i>Ohhhhhh...tooth</i><b><i>PICKS</i></b><i>!</i>"<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-my8CeYjTI/AAAAAAAAF5k/JhgAjZKTkFc/s1600/toothpics.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-my8CeYjTI/AAAAAAAAF5k/JhgAjZKTkFc/s320/toothpics.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
He smiled. He is beginning to understand a little bit of what I am going through. What I go through on a daily basis.<br />
<br />
He doesn't have a hearing loss, but he has<b> tinnitus</b>. For him, it is a series of clicks and buzzing in his ears that are so loud and bothersome, that it is affecting his ability to hear. His ability to go to sleep. He has had his ears and hearing checked, (no hearing loss) has tried a number of over the counter meds that have not worked. Combine that with the ultra-noisy, echo-y environment of Costco and you've got a winning recipe for a communication mix-up.<br />
<br />
I have tinnitus. It is a high pitch, continual sound that only I can hear. Late at night, when I take the hearing aids out, I hear it. It's the most ominous, annoying, distracting sound. You can plug your ears and still hear it. When I have complete silence, I think that my brain makes up the ringing sound to make up for the <b><i>absence</i></b> of sound. When I get a hearing test, I will always hear that particular pitch.....if it goes on for more than a few seconds, I know it's the tinnitus, not the test. When I wear my hearing aids, I usually don't hear it, so wearing hearing aids is a good thing for me.<br />
<br />
Do you have tinnitus? What works for you?Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-1544224420266153682010-05-05T21:05:00.000-06:002010-05-05T21:05:00.130-06:00I Am Not AloneI just met my new neighbor across the street. They are a couple with two grown children. I found out that he is an audiologist. A hard of hearing audiologist. An audiologist that wears hearing aids.<br />
<br />
That got my attention.<br />
<br />
I have never heard of a hard of hearing audiologist. But what better person than one who is hard of hearing to be able to understand what their clients are going through?<br />
<br />
He told me that roughly 34 million Americans have some degree of hearing loss. That doesn't even count those that have NOT been diagnosed.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-IxRzTpMzI/AAAAAAAAF0s/KwBHE5VggrE/s1600/I+Can%27t+Hear+You.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-IxRzTpMzI/AAAAAAAAF0s/KwBHE5VggrE/s320/I+Can%27t+Hear+You.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
I decided to search the Internet and see what I could find. It is difficult to find accurate numbers, as these are self reported. <br />
<br />
Nearly 10 million people are hard of hearing and close to 1million are functionally deaf. <a href="http://jdsde.oxfordjournals.org/content/11/1/112.full">(Journal of Deaf Studies and Deaf Education, 2005)</a><br />
<br />
<a href="http://gri.gallaudet.edu/Demographics/deaf-US.php">Gallaudet Research Institute</a> estimates that as many as 42 million people have some type of "trouble" with their hearing.<br />
<br />
Approximately 1 million people are "functionally deaf."<br />
More than half of this number are over 65 years of age.<br />
<br />
About 8 million people are hard of hearing.<br />
More than half of these people are over 65 years of age.<br />
<br />
Where does that put me? In a group of around 4-5 million people that live in the U.S.A.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-IxVYnUIsI/AAAAAAAAF00/TA-bF_Bsfh8/s1600/1621web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="350" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S-IxVYnUIsI/AAAAAAAAF00/TA-bF_Bsfh8/s400/1621web.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-79893721048110063132010-05-01T22:33:00.000-06:002010-05-01T22:33:53.759-06:00What Do I Hear? Timpanogos Cave<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">One summer, I was outside talking to a neighbor of mine at the corner by her house. My husband pulled up in the car and rolled down the window. Quickly, he said,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"I</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">am </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">go</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">ing</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">to</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">the s</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">ore for m</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">i</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">lk</span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">an</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">d e</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">gg</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">s.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"<i>Okaaaay.....</i>" I say, scrambling through the "file cabinet" of familiar, <b>similar words </b>in my brain. I quickly re-count the number of syllables I heard, tapping my fingers to each syllable. By this time, my husband has already driven away. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">This is what I came up with: </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>I'm going to Timpanogos Cave</b>. (a popular place to visit in Utah.)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_02TQUOI/AAAAAAAAFts/RPRdbkkqiMM/s1600/Timpanogos+Cave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_02TQUOI/AAAAAAAAFts/RPRdbkkqiMM/s200/Timpanogos+Cave.jpg" width="154" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"<i>He's going to Timpanogos Cave?</i>" I said out loud.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">My friend started laughing. Uncontrollably.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>"Huh?" "What's so funny?" </i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">After several moments of laughing and trying to catch her breath, she finally said,</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">"He's... going... to the store... for milk... and eggs......"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_6YalfDI/AAAAAAAAFt0/mnQrl_Y7sys/s1600/milk.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_6YalfDI/AAAAAAAAFt0/mnQrl_Y7sys/s200/milk.jpg" width="138" /></a><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_7lilJhI/AAAAAAAAFt8/RSVpx03kXuE/s1600/eggs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9l_7lilJhI/AAAAAAAAFt8/RSVpx03kXuE/s320/eggs.jpg" /></a></div><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i>Milk and eggs? How in the world did I get</i> Timpanogos Cave <i>out of that?</i><br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
I'm glad I can provide some comic relief!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><b>How do I describe my hearing loss?</b></div><br />
<br />
Have you ever tried to describe a color to someone who is blind? <br />
<br />
My hearing loss is in BOTH ears. My left ear is significantly worse than my right ear. I have developed the habit of sitting by other people's left sides. I have "trained" my husband and a few close friends to sit/stand by my right side. <br />
<br />
My hearing is better in the higher pitches and louder sounds. Brakes squealing, whistling, banging of pots and pans, sirens, hurt my ears. Hard to believe? It's true. With hearing aids, I can understand female voices better than male voices. <br />
<br />
Hearing aids simply amplify <b>ALL</b> sounds. I hear the sound of a refrigerator or hum of a fan at the same volume as your voice. I do not have the ability to "tune out" sound. For example, if you are tapping a pencil or drumming your fingers on a table, I hear it at the same level as I hear your voice. <br />
<br />
However, newer digital aids have the ability to reduce background noise. I have three directional microphones in my digital hearing aids that allow me to hear sounds in front of me, to the side, and behind me...like my kids in the car! I still have difficulty telling which direction a sound is coming from...If you call my name from across the street, I will <b>SPIN</b> around a full 360º, looking for someone <b>LOOKING</b> at me.<br />
<br />
I can only hear/understand certain speech sounds. /SH/ and some other consonants are non-existent.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>What is said</b> <b>What I hear</b><br />
Wash Watch<br />
Shin Chin<br />
Spent Pen<br />
Dive Die<br />
<br />
I can lip read. When I was young, my older sister and I would silently "mouth" conversations to each other. It was so much quicker and easier than writing notes. Plus, it was PRIVATE. Lip reading is <b>NOT</b> 100% accurate. Many words <b>LOOK</b> the same. Combining hearing aids with lip reading, I can pretty much understand 80%-90% of what is being said. <br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9mAhliPC9I/AAAAAAAAFuE/43Dz-pxxOZI/s1600/lip_reading_school_659175.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9mAhliPC9I/AAAAAAAAFuE/43Dz-pxxOZI/s320/lip_reading_school_659175.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
I think.<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px;"></span><br />
<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none; width: 542px;"><tbody>
<tr style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;"><td class="text" style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;" valign="top" width="100%"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img alt="" border="0" height="20" src="http://appl.phonak.com/pixel.gif" width="1" />Check </span></span><a href="http://www.phonak.com/us/b2c/en/hearing/understanding_hearingloss/how_hearing_loss_sounds.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">here at Phonak</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> to listen to demos of what sound is like for people with two different levels of hearing loss. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><br />
</span></span></td><td style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://appl.phonak.com/pixel.gif" width="15" /></td></tr>
</tbody></table><table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;"><tbody>
<tr style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;"><td style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;" width="20"><img alt="" border="0" height="1" src="http://appl.phonak.com/pixel.gif" width="20" /></td><td class="text" style="color: #62666e; font-family: verdana, arial, helvetica; font-size: 12px; text-decoration: none;" valign="top" width="100%"><img alt="" border="0" height="10" src="http://appl.phonak.com/pixel.gif" width="1" /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-50985841399237324432010-04-27T13:20:00.000-06:002010-04-27T13:20:53.304-06:00My First Pair of Hearing AidsBefore Kindergarten started, I was introduced to my teacher. I was able to walk around the empty classroom and find my own desk. Then the teacher showed me a box attached to a set of headphones. I remembered the headphones from the hearing test and put them on.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9cy3PVRkSI/AAAAAAAAFtU/mZpIi23Z5Qo/s1600/headphones.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9cy3PVRkSI/AAAAAAAAFtU/mZpIi23Z5Qo/s320/headphones.jpg" /></a></div><br />
The teacher held a microphone to her lips and began talking to me. I could understand her! The only time I would use the headphones was during story time. I don't ever remember her using the microphone during any other time.<br />
<br />
During my next visit to the audiologist, it was time to be fitted for ear molds. A piece of cotton attached to a string was stuck in my right ear. To this day, I cannot handle the feel of cotton balls....the mere thought of touching them brings prickly goosebumps to my skin.<br />
<br />
I sat, with cotton strings from both ears, watching the audiologist mixing <i>something.</i> I wish I knew what was going on! He was stirring a goopy pink mix with a wooden popsicle stick. Very quickly, the pungent smell of new plastic stung my nose. <br />
<br />
He took this pink goop and scooped it into a plastic syringe. I looked closely....I didn't see a needle. I still had no idea what was going on and my imagination started to run wild. I looked around the room and found my mom, silently watching. I didn't see any concern or worry on her face, so I sat still and waited for what was to come next.<br />
<br />
He tugged on my ear and began to squeeze the syringe....the soft, cold plastic quickly oozed into my ear, completely shutting out ALL sound. He gently tapped and pushed on the plastic, making sure it had completely filled my inner and outer ear.<br />
<br />
After filling my other ear, I entered into COMPLETE silence. Wide eyed, I looked at my audiologist. He held up his hand and gestured for me to "wait." <i>Wait? How long? </i> There was no way to communicate. It wasn't long before he tugged on the string and pulled the molds out of each ear. My ears felt like they could finally breathe. I felt like I could finally breathe.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9c2dfFjNJI/AAAAAAAAFtc/1vnAn0yV1IY/s1600/ear+molds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9c2dfFjNJI/AAAAAAAAFtc/1vnAn0yV1IY/s320/ear+molds.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div>A few weeks later, my ear molds arrived. I was ready to be fitted with Behind the Ear (BTE) hearing aids.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9c2sHUFVKI/AAAAAAAAFtk/gtc07LZERCY/s1600/hearing+aid.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9c2sHUFVKI/AAAAAAAAFtk/gtc07LZERCY/s320/hearing+aid.jpg" /></a></div><br />
It was winter time when I received my new hearing aids. "I can hear the snow crunch!" I excitedly told my mom while walking out to the car. I was introduced to <b>SO</b> many sounds that day. I asked a lot of questions: "Why is the cat <b>roaring</b>?" <i>(He was purring) </i>"What is that sound?" "Where is it coming from?"<br />
<i><br />
</i><br />
And so my journey into a new world of sound began....Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8368345914438155797.post-23907310885229560902010-04-24T19:29:00.000-06:002010-04-24T20:38:31.703-06:00Introduction & DiagnosisMy name is Frieda. I am the third child in a family of four adoptive children. I was born with a moderate to severe hearing impairment. I am a wife and a mother of two boys in their teens.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9OZIPLs-EI/AAAAAAAAFqU/vdvN8njE2u0/s1600/Frieda+Comic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/__FFmBl7tXRo/S9OZIPLs-EI/AAAAAAAAFqU/vdvN8njE2u0/s200/Frieda+Comic.jpg" width="133" /></a></div><br />
Here is the beginning of my story.<br />
<br />
One of my earliest recollections was of listening to a radio. I was probably about three years old. I remember holding the small, white pocket radio <i>really</i> close....right up to my ear, listening to music.<br />
<br />
My parents knew that something was different about me. I was a curious child, poking in drawers, and keenly observant about my surroundings. When I began to talk, my language skills were..... <i>different</i>. I would say, "fida ator" for refrigerator. It was a language all my own, a language only my parents could understand. I am sure my mother patiently repeated the words, enunciating them clearly to me. But the progress wasn't there. Basically, I was speaking the words I was hearing. As a toddler, I was taken to an audiologist for a hearing test, but my mom said I was so uncooperative, the test was never done.<br />
<br />
It wasn't until I was about five years of age, getting ready for Kindergarten, that I was taken for another attempt to test my hearing. The first thing I remember was seeing what looked like a large safe. As the audiologist slowly opened the door, I remember screaming and crying. I truly believed that I was going to be "locked" in the safe.....<b>forever.</b><br />
<br />
What was different this time was that my mother was allowed to come with me into the "safe." The audiologist showed me the pictures on the walls and pointed to the toys on the floor. He sat down, picked up a pair of headphones, and placed them on his head. He looked into my eyes and gently placed the headphones on my head and left the room. <br />
<br />
<i>But he did not close the door.</i> I felt better.<br />
<br />
I heard a voice through the headphones. He called me by name and asked if I could hear him. He then asked me to pick up a particular toy. Asked me to point to one of the pictures on the wall. Asked me to pick up another toy. What a fun game! This interaction continued until he had enough information for a diagnosis.<br />
<br />
I don't know what term they used in the 70's...perhaps it was "hearing impaired." At this time, I understand my diagnosis to be "congenital moderate to severe bi-lateral sensory neural hearing loss." This simply means that my hearing loss is in both ears and I have had this loss since I was born. Being an adoptive child, there are no medical records or prenatal history that indicate why I have this particular loss.<br />
<br />
What is your story?Frieda Loves Breadhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00265482581165683185noreply@blogger.com3