November 2008


I have opened a new blog that has nothing to do with being deaf.  I will still be blogging here, but also at www.greeneats.wordpress.com.  Many of you know I have been a vegetarian for awhile now.  Then I got into the sustainable foods movement, which is about supporting community farmers by buying locally grown organic food that’s good for the environment.  I am an environmentalist at heart.  

My other blog is just a collection of recipes that support the sustainable lifestyle.  One thing I’ve probably never mentioned is how much I LOVE to cook.  I do not know how many of my readers are vegetarian or into organic foods.  Stop on by at www.greeneats.wordpress.com  I don’t have much there yet, but it will continue to grow as I cook up new things and try new recipes from other sources.  I’d love to hear from any of you if you have recipes to share or if you have questions about the sustainable foods movement. 

Kim :-)

www.greeneats.com

As someone who identifies with being hard-of-hearing, late-deafened, and/or little-d deaf I have learned it matters little what words I use to label my hearing loss. The important thing is getting others to understand I don’t communicate like they do.

This is probably the single biggest issue most late-deafened people struggle with, next to getting a hearing aid. We’re all taught from an early age to try to blend in. It’s rude to call attention to ourselves. Then suddenly, in order to get by, we have to point out something that’s very unusual about ourselves to everyone we meet.

Many people I know try to hide their aids. They don’t want others to know there’s anything different about them. You can get by pretending you’re ‘normal’ but eventually it takes its toll. You will embarrass yourself over and over by responding inappropriately, accidentally ignoring those you love, and laughing at the wrong times (we’ve all done it– laughed when someone informed us a friend had died).

We don’t carry special white canes. We don’t use a wheelchair or crutches. By all outward appearances we don’t look at all disabled. And most of us like it that way!! I know a lot of people who go to great lengths to hide their hearing aids. I did it myself for a long time.

But the great irony of hearing loss is that in order to manage your every day life successfully, you MUST inform people constantly that you can’t hear.

Otherwise, instead of understanding that you didn’t hear right, others will wonder what’s wrong with you when you gleefully exclaim, “Awesome!” after a coworker announces she’s getting a divorce. (OH! OOPS! I thought she said she was. . . getting a horse?) We don’t behave the way hearing people behave in every day conversations. So we’ve got to explain over and over and over what the exact problem is. But in the long run, as uncomfortable as it is, this is a better course of action than pretending we can hear.

Sometimes I’d rather have that white cane. This is why many of us who have been hard-of-hearing/deaf for years choose to go with wild colors on our aids and ear molds, instead of ugly medical beige. It would be nice if just a few times in each day someone would notice my hearing aids, then be reminded I have difficulties communicating, so I wouldn’t have to remind them myself.