Reminders and a Pity Party for One

Tonight, 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.

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.

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." 

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."

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.  

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.  

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.   

Hair

"Give me a head with hair, long beautiful flaxen hair.
Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.
Give me down to there hair, shoulder length or longer hair
Here baby, there momma, ev'rywhere daddy, daddy..."

from the muscial, Hair




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.

"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.  "He doesn't have a choice to cover his ears," I remember thinking.  "Everyone knows that he is hard of hearing."

A few years ago, I asked my husband if I should cut my hair short.

"No, I like it long," he told me.
"I have to wash it, blow it dry, curl it, and you end up sleeping on it!"
"Well, I have to look at it."

Sigh.


I like having my hair out of my face, so I will usually pull it up into a ponytail.

But I never wear a ponytail in public.

Until now.  I went to Costco, looking like this:

I tell you, it's total freedom!

*Ring* *Ring*

"Mom, the phone's ringing."

(I can't hear the phone ringing or see it anywhere)

Why are you telling me that?  Can't you answer it?


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?

Those phones would NEVER get lost.
Cordless phones would NEVER run out of battery charge.

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 which direction it's coming from.

I have thought many times about 'ditching' my land line and using my cell phone exclusively.

Think about it...

No telemarketers calling me to take advantage of the energy rebates for attic insulation...

I already did that two summers ago AND got my rebate.

No non-profit groups calling me to ask for donations...

I already have a favorite charity that I regularly donate to.

Nobody calling for one of my kids...

I'm not sure where they are.  Have you tried their cell phone?


No strangers that are trying to pronounce my last name...

If you don't know me, don't call me.


Why do I still have a land line?  For one reason only.  In an emergency.

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.'

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.

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 CLEAR connection.

I am still new to Skype, and texting.  What is your favorite way to communicate?