Archive for Super Hearing Boy

Seen, But Not Heard

{ March 11, 2008 @ 12:30 am } · { Communication technique, Hard of hearing musician, Super Hearing Boy, deaf, deafness, hard of hearing, hearing impaired, hearing loss }
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Normal hearing children that grow up with a hard of hearing (HOH) parent naturally adapt to the parent’s hearing loss; from an early age, both of my children muted the television, turned off music, and made sure I could see their lips before they attempted to speak to me. Sometimes I felt just a little bad that “talking to mommy” required more work than talking to other people.

 

But that was BEFORE Super Hearing Boy (SHB) became a teenager.

 

SHB gradually came into the realization that he could take advantage of my lipreading ability and USE IT AGAINST ME. And do it in a subtle, sneaky manner… and make me look like I’ve gone berserk! How is this possible?

 

I’m at the piano, rehearsing with the band at church after potluck, and glance over at SHB. He’s staring at me, trying to get my attention without any of the guys noticing. The instant I look at him, he starts moving his lips without making a sound. The sight of his moving lips puts me in an almost hypnotic trance and I’m compelled to lipread until his lips are still. I shake my head to indicate “no” and his lips move again. Finally, I stop playing, and say firmly, “No, I am NOT going to drive you home now and come back here to finish rehearsing! Just sit tight for another half hour and stop arguing with me!”

 

The guitarists and drummer are silenced by my outburst.

 

Guess who looks like a raving lunatic and who looks calm and composed?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Beethoven Effect

{ March 4, 2008 @ 11:05 pm } · { Super Hearing Boy, deaf, deafness, hard of hearing, hearing aids, hearing impaired, hearing loss }
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Is anyone still interested in reading this blog? Due to major changes in both my professional and personal life, I’ve seriously neglected it, and I apologize for my laxness. Now that I’ve adjusted to my situation somewhat, I feel like writing again.

Let me begin the “rebirth” of my blog by telling how I stumbled upon a very effective method of upgrading from a semi-private hospital room to a private room, at no additional cost. If you are hard of hearing, you’ve got the necessary tools to do the same!

Sixteen years ago, I welcomed Super Hearing Boy into the world. He was delivered via C-section, and powerful drugs dulled the pain inherent with this major abdominal surgery. I vaguely remember being wheeled into a semi-private hospital room, and later that day another mom who had also recently given birth was assigned to my room. Family members eager to see my precious newborn visited while I drifted in and out of consciousness.

That night, shortly after I slipped into a drug-induced sleep, I felt someone grab my wrist.

Me (Momentarily forgetting where I was): “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

Nurse: “Mmdghskdlfk”

Me (fumbling for the light switch, hearing aids, and eyeglasses and speaking in a loud voice): “LET ME TURN ON THE LIGHT AND GET MY GLASSES AND HEARING AIDS.”

(A minute later)

Nurse: I’m just taking your pulse.”

(Repeat scenario a few hours later)

When night turned into day, I woke up in a private room. Bewildered, I pressed the call button, and a nurse soon appeared.

Me: “Why have I been moved into this room? Is my baby alright?”

Nurse: “Your baby is fine.”

Me: “Why am I in this room?”

Nurse: “You woke your roommate every time the nurse checked your vitals last night, so we decided to give you a private room.”

Me: “Oh.”

And there you have it - solid evidence that there ARE benefits to having a hearing loss!

Ow!

{ October 15, 2007 @ 4:14 am } · { Emergency Room, Super Hearing Boy, deaf, deafness, hard of hearing, hearing aids, hearing loss }
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This past Friday night I was relaxing at home, surfing the ‘Net, and reading blogs. Super Hearing Boy (SHB) was washing dishes as payment for his cell phone subscription. Suddenly, he runs into my room with a look of terror on his face and shouts:

SHB: MMMMmmm! MMM MMMdMMMMSLSKDJDK!!

Me: What?

SHB: Look! (points)

Blood was pouring from his right hand.

Me: What happened???!!!!!

SHB: I was washing a glass and it broke!

This was no superficial cut; he needed medical attention at once. I grab a washcloth to wrap his hand in, grab my purse, and in 60 seconds we were out the door. Luckily, the nearest hospital was only a few miles away. I drive like a mad woman and in ten minutes we were in the Emergency Room.

We make a beeline for the nurse’s station.

Me: My son cut his hand! Where do we go?

Nurse: Mmmhdkfjkdj kdjfkdjfk jdkfjdkf kkdfjkd

Me: (Realizing I don’t have my hearing aids in) I’m hard of hearing! Where do we go?

Nurse: (Points)

We go to the room on the right and go to the nurse’s station there. I fumble in my purse and find the box where I keep my hearing aids. Quickly, I place them in my ears and the formerly silent hospital comes to life, blasting my ears with the sound of babies crying, people talking, and the tv blaring.

The triage nurse briefly assesses SHB’s injury and tells us to sit down. A few minutes later, SHB is called and the nurse wraps gauze around his hand and throws away the blood-soaked washcloth. On four separate occasions, SHB is called and I miss his name each time! Because SHB hears so well, I depend on his ears and didn’t ask the hospital staff to walk out to the patient waiting area to get my attention. Three and a half hours later, we leave with SHB’s wound closed with six sutures (stitches).

The next day, after I’ve calmed down, I think about the previous night. I understand hospitals have procedures to follow with each patient, but surely there’s a better way than calling patients’ names in a cacophonous environment. A numbered system that visually alerts patients would be much better. The Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) in my city has an efficient visual and auditory method of alerting customers that’s very hoh/deaf friendly. Upon walking into the DMV, customers take a number and sit down. After a short wait, the customer’s number is spoken and flashed on the multiple screens surrounding the waiting area. Arrows point the way to the appropriate Customer Service Representative.

Does anyone know of an ER with deaf/hoh friendly ways of alerting patients?

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The Forgotten Superhero

{ September 2, 2007 @ 12:22 am } · { Super Hearing Boy, deafness, hard of hearing, hearing impaired, hearing loss, noise pollution, normal hearing children }
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Last night:

Super Hearing Boy (SHB): “I’m going to sleep now.”

Me: “Okay, have a good night - I love you!”

A few minutes later:

SHB: “Mom, I can’t sleep. I hear termites chewing something. I think it’s the dresser Tanya gave us.”

Me: “You’re joking, right?”

SHB: “No.”  

Throwing the sheet off, I leave my comfortable nest and follow my son to his room.  

SHB: “I think the termites are in the wood trim around the mirror.”  

I separate the mirror from the dresser, exposing a mound of termite droppings.  

SHB: “See! I knew I could hear them!”  

After relocating the mirror to the living room far from Super Hearing Boy’s hypersensitive ears, I return to my bed.  

Two minutes later:  

SHB: “Mom, I still hear them.”  

Me: “You could use a little deafness right now, Boy. Let me sleep!”  

SHB: “It’s really loud!”  

Sigh. Once again, I leave my soft bed to save my mutant superhero from the sounds of loudness. We push the dresser into the dining room to await its fate, then I slide into my bed for the third and hopefully final time that night.  

As I wait for waves of sleep to engulf me, I’m awed by Super Hearing Boy’s supersonic hearing. I’m also somewhat thankful for my deafness, knowing I’ll never lose sleep over irritating sounds that have caused problems for SHB in the past. You know, horrid sounds such as the flapping of butterflies’ wings, leaves falling, or grass growing.

Super Hearing Boy

{ August 29, 2007 @ 3:22 am } · { Super Hearing Boy }
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                    Super Hearing Boy

                        This is Super Hearing Boy.

In this photo, he’s listening to the sounds dust makes floating through the air. Funny how he can sleep through the alarm every morning!

We See, They Listen

{ August 22, 2007 @ 4:15 am } · { Super Hearing Boy, deafness, hard of hearing, normal hearing children }
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I never cease to be amazed at what Normal Hearing (NH) people can hear. NH people can put a pot of water on the stove and know precisely when it starts to boil - WITHOUT looking at it. What an amazing feat! They can determine if a light bulb is good - just by SHAKING it. Astounding! And get this…they can hear turning signals. Really - it’s true.

I know these things because of my son, Super Hearing Boy, who can hear a flea land on a dog. He demonstrated his exceptional skill at my mother’s home a couple of weeks ago. We were relaxing in the living room, enjoying the Sci-Fi channel. He was sitting in the recliner, and I was on the couch, when out of the blue, he yells, “Mom!”

Alarmed, I turn to Super Hearing Boy and say, “What’s wrong?”

“Please stop!”

“Stop what?”

“That!”

“What in the world are you talking about? I’m not doing anything!”

“Stop scratching!”

Lest you think I’m a dry, scaly alligator woman, I was scratching a mosquito bite.