Better Hearing Consumer

“Were you born with ‘it’?” I get this question a lot when I, and my hearing loss, meet someone for the first time. Sometimes they ask hesitantly, not sure what to call ‘the problem’, which they indicate with little finger jabs at their own ear. Talking about hearing loss is usually one of my favorite things to do, and I’m

Yo, hearing care professionals!  Hey, hearing loss groups!  In your area, where can a family sign up for a communication strategies course? (And I’m not talking about mandatory programs involving a psychologist or the police.) It’s tough enough for a hard of hearing person to find access to effective aural rehabilitation, let alone a program that includes communication partners like

I am a talker, a gesturer and a reader of faces. Put another way, I speak, sign (a little) and speechread. As a hard of hearing person, my language is a spoken one with heavy dependency on visual cues and expressions. I often punctuate my speech with  signs picked up through a few years of exposure to American Sign Language

I woke up with a snort and for a brief moment I wasn’t sure where I was.  Then the noise reached my brain – I was on a plane heading home.  But – had I been snoring?  Most other passengers were wearing headphones, so it was difficult to tell if anyone had been ready to reach across the aisle and punch me.

The fruits of advocacy are both bitter and sweet.  You win some, you lose some. Sometimes you advocate your little heart out (I need captioning!  The music’s too loud!), but nothing changes.  The winds of change hardly stir the leaves.   It can drive an  impatient advocate crazy. Then one day, a door shuts in your face because there’s no communication access

Hearing loss is one of those gifts that keeps on giving. Once you have it, your hearing loss presents itself to you, every day, in different ways. You never know what you’ll be treated to – an uncaptioned TV show, a sales clerk whose lips point to her computer, a conversation with friends that spins out of control into incomprehension.

Best friends share things through the years – secrets, money, boyfriends, etc.  And if one of you has hearing loss,  you share that, too.  If your friend is truly your best friend, she will gladly embrace the communication challenges, the irritations, and the daily impact of your hearing loss. I’m writing this from Florida, where I arrived yesterday after a three-day Girl’s Road Trip with

A Letter To My Dentist,   Having just escaped from your dentist chair for the second time in a week, I am writing while the experience is still painfully fresh in my mind.  Actually, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as I expected – the drugs helped a lot. As you know, Doc, I have hearing loss, and you’ve always

It was early one morning at a Tim Hortons drive-thru, a few years ago……   “Mpray uh paken udda, heesh?” “Oh yes, hi…I’ll have a double-double, one apple juice, and 20 Timbits, please.” “Mprhhh?” “Pardon me?” “Mom, she’s saying….” “Shh, honey, mommy’s trying to hear….sorry, what was that again?” “MM-PRHH!?” “I’m sorry, I have hearing loss, I’m not quite getting…”

When it comes to my hearing, I have a grateful soul. I’m thankful for technology, the support of others and the passion for advocacy that my hearing loss has given me. But – and I don’t know if this is true of other people who live successfully with their communication challenges – every once in a while, I have a