Deaf

I had a hair appointment, and before the woman washed my hair, I made a point to let her know I wore hearing aids and would be taking them out, so I wouldn't be able to hear her. She looked at me like people look at you when you say that your dog just died last week. It was a little weird, but I appreciated that she was trying to be caring. Then, while she washed my hair, she said something to me. I almost laughed. She was checking the temperature of the water and by context I figured out what she said and told her it was fine. Then I'm sure she thought I was a big, fat liar about the deaf thing. (Except for my hearing aids in my hand.)

Deaf people are REALLY good at reading context. Like scary good. So we catch stuff even if we didn't hear you. That sounded like a threat and I'm not even sorry about it.

I have this arrangement with my new hair stylist. I have done the deaf dance with several stylists. This dance is the advanced notice that you will have to take your hearing aids out for the hair washing (they are NOT water proof). Then you have to remind them that it means you can't hear. Which is true, but since you're a dope lip reader and context clues reader- the stylist will inadvertently slip up and talk to you and you will respond appropriately because you can figure it out. Here's the thing- when you have your hearing aids out- it takes A LOT of energy to do all that context sleuthing, so you'd really rather them not talk to you. So it's difficult. Then you feel like an asshole because you aren't talking to them or even really looking at them because you're trying to avoid them striking up a conversation. SO you try to dry out your ears mega-fast so you don't have to work so hard at keeping up with the conversation. Here's the problem- your ears weren't perfectly dry so now they feel all damp and weird and the person is brushing or cutting your hair- which means they now have these hearing aids to avoid and you both feel anxious about it. And now you can talk, but seriously it's still hard to talk with hair in your face.

This dance was so damn exhausting that I tried something new with this hair stylist, and I did it with the one I had in Hampton. I said "Hey, I'm deaf, so when I take the hearing aids out I can't hear. They can't get wet, so I need to let my ears dry before I put them back in. It might be a little while. I'm not trying to be rude, but I'll probably just read." My new stylist said "sounds great- we'll both get a little quiet." That's when I knew I found the right person.

I was reflecting about my deafness today- not something I do often. Not hearing is kinda like that sound of the AC cutting on. You completely forget about it until that first warm day in spring and you're like- what's that noise? Oh yeah, the AC. I think my parents played a big part in letting my sister and I feel like we could let our deafness fade into background noise- it didn't have to be our primary identity. I really appreciate that, because it allowed us to have the confidence to do anything we wanted to do. But every now and then I think about it and reflect on it.

My older sister is also deaf, so it's nice to have someone to talk to when I think about it. I don't think we fully realize the blessing it was to have someone in-house who understood what we were going through. We talked about our deafness over Thanksgiving last week, when her family joined mine. We have both been doing a little reflecting on it lately. I'm not sure if that's age, therapy, or just the wind blowing where it does. But it was nice to share with each other what we have realized.

Kelly said that she had thought she was totally comfortable with her impairment, when it occurred to her that she was proud of how well she compensated, not necessarily how she was born. That was a lightning bolt for me. And of course we're proud of how we've compensated. We're awesome. But- it was a realization that we hadn't necessarily fully accepted our hearing loss as an OK thing- but more we were bent on proving that it wasn't a thing at all. By how incredibly amazing we were at not seeming deaf. We fool a lot of people. And for some reason we were more proud of that. I'm still working out what that means. I've tried to be more vulnerable and say when I can't hear people or name that I can't hear in an unapologetic way. I don't feel that I need to apologize, but I do have very high expectations of myself as far as how much I should be able to do to compensate.

And that was the discovery I made. I work really hard to do normal things. It's part of who I am to the point where I don't even notice it. It's like brushing my teeth in the morning- of course I do it! Of course I face the people who are talking to me. Of course I read their lips. Of course I intuitively read their body language. Of course I have a sixth sense of emotions and even a weird spiritual vibe. Of course I can usually tell a creeper from a mile away- I'm constantly watching and listening with every fiber of my being. I realized that not everyone does this. Hell, people can have a conversation AND watch TV at the same time. To me, that's impossible. If I try to multitask - even with the check-out person, I will miss most of whatever it is I'm trying to do. So human interaction takes literally my whole being to do right. THIS is why I was a good chaplain. This is why I am a good listener (hopefully). This is also why I can't do crowds of people for too long, or shallow conversation for too long, or have too many friends. It's exhausting. I can't tune out and tune in at the right time. I have to be fully present for all of it if I want to catch the good parts. I can't select what I hear, so I select who I hear. I used to think that was me being elitist or super-introverted. Now it feels a little more like self-care and grace.

I have always been so proud of myself for being "passable" as hearing, that I think I forgot to give myself credit for the work I have to do to pass. Not in a pitying way- but it made me realize why I have instinctively put up the boundaries that I have. I'm not mean and I don't hate people. I like people- a lot- and I can only give 100% to so many. I am realizing that I made good choices when I said I didn't want to do that thing with all those people right after doing that other thing with all those people.

And now, I have a new set of hearing aids (got em on a huge sale for $5500!). Now I remember all the work it takes. Getting new hearing aids is switching your old ears out for a new sound system. Your brain has to adapt. You have to adapt, and then you have to figure out what needs to be changed (settings, programs, volume, etc). But you still have to go to those events with crowds and people talking. I'll admit the first day I hid in a quiet corner and had wine while I whined about how much my new hearing aids sucked. I *knew* that they would be fine, but I felt terrible. I had to do even MORE work to pass as hearing, and that is when I realize that I'm at the brink of hard work. Trying more completely exhausts and overwhelms me. It'll get better. It'll get easier, and my work will reduce back to the normal level. But it's a lot of work, and it made me feel better to be more honest about it this time around. People at church were asking me how I was adjusting to them- I felt really cared for.

I've always thought of my deafness as something that is background noise. Mere chance to mention in  an off-hand way. But now I am trying to face it a little more straight on. I'm trying to get to know this part of myself a little better, to recognize in my daily quirks and habits, the things that I do because I can't hear. Then, ultimately, to embrace it. To give it grace and worry a little less about "passing" as hearing- or perfect- or anything other than who I am.