Life inside these hearing aids

The strike is over! We beat 'em!

2012-01-23T20:24:00.000-06:00

Okay, there was really no strike, but I'm morally obligated to quote Newsies as much as possible.

Success! Netflix seems to be mostly back to normal, showing 74 pages worth of subtitled content (up from 17 pages last week).

I don't know if our emails and calls and tweets and blog posts had anything to do with it or not but regardless, it would be a good idea, after all of that, to say, "Thank you." There are two sides to the advocacy coin: asking for help and appreciating it when it's offered. So often, we master the first but don't give the second any thought.

If you'd like to thank Netflix and show your support for subtitled and captioned content, here's how you can contact them:

Submit an email through the Contact Public Relations form
Call them at 1-866-501-1604
Follow and send tweets to @netflix, @netflixhelps and @neilhunt

I should say more eloquent things now but that cold I've been expecting for over a week has finally made an appearance so I'm going wallow and (thanks to Netflix!) watch old episodes of Ugly Betty.

Are you back on the Netflix bandwagon? Hit up the comments below!

Update on Netflix subtitles

2012-01-19T22:29:00.000-06:00

Gaaaah. My brain hurts. I have not been this wound up about something since the last time I was out of Nutella.

Anyway, I finally got a Twitter response from @netflixhelps that said, "We're working on it." (I tried to get a screenshot but I'm techno-dumb at the moment and can't figure out how to do it on my trusty old laptop. It's probably as easy as picking your nose but whatever, have I mentioned that my brain is fried? Also, I've been on a Mac all day at work and I'm pretty sure some things just get lost in translation when I get home to hang out with my PC.) I also noticed a couple of other tweets from @netflixhelps to other users, assuring them that the subtitle issue was being dealt with.

But you know me, I can't let things go and my favorite question in the world is, "Why, God, WHY?" So I tried to give Netflix a call but apparently every piece of technology I touch turns to sh-... um, crap, and my Captel app wasn't working on my phone. Blergh. So then I turned to Sprint Relay Online to try and make the call and after 10 minutes of registering for an account and blah blah blah, I was finally able to use the online relay service to call Netflix.

The representative I spoke to was polite and professional. I saved a transcript of the conversation and when I asked what was up with the subtitles, the representative said:

its a glitch in our system that came up recently it is also been affecting letting people know whether or not a title is available in HD but it is an issue that we are well aware of and we re scrambling to get this fixed as quickly as we can (SOUNDS PLEASANT) ga

I asked if deaf and hard of hearing customers would be refunded for the days of lost service and was told that:

thats not something that i have any input on but i can certainly pull up ur account and take a note of that and if they do choose to give out compensation then u would be notified via email ga

I also asked if they were working to get subtitles back on all previously subtitled content or just some of it:

we will most definitely be working on recoverying all subtitles for the titles that had them previously and wer er also just working on getting subtitles and cc for all titles in general

I wanted to give him a virtual fist bump for that last part alone.

My friend Shanna was kind enough to share this story on her own blog as well as on Facebook. I appreciated reading her friends' feedback and personal experience with Netflix. One person in particular, who has been subscribed to Netflix for a few months, noted that the subtitle issue had popped up before but rarely lasted longer than about 24 hours. I also learned that Netflix publishes its own page of subtitled content. At the time of this publishing, the list was up to 17 pages (there were only five or six pages this morning), so I hope things will be back to normal soon.

I appreciate that Neflix is aware of the issue and is working to resolve it, and I especially appreciated the courteous and professional conversation I had with the representative. However, I would like to see Netflix provide more consideration if or when this issue pops up again. For instance, a quick informational email, blog post or notice on the website indicating that Netflix is aware of certain issues and is working to resolve them would go a long way in quelling people's (okay, my) frustration. I'm thinking of something like, "We value you as a customer and as such, are working to restore subtitles as quickly as we can. We appreciate your patience as we investigate the matter." That's just gold right there. In my oh-so-humble opinion. ;)

Thanks to all of you who commented on my last post, tweeted or re-tweeted information and blogged about Netflix subtitles!

Netflix subtitles in the Wii

2012-01-19T12:45:00.000-06:00

I did it. I'm a cop-out. A hypocrite. If my life was Newsies, I would be Jack when he goes to work for Pulitzer. I'm a scabber, you guys!

Remember that rant and rave of yore, where I raged against Netflix for not providing subtitled content? Wellll Phlixie convinced me I was missing out and I couldn't resist the siren song of being able to watch Ugly Betty reruns whenever I wanted and finding out what the Dowton Abbey hoopla was all about, so I buckled. Folded. Sold my soul (This seems to be a theme as of late. So far, 2012 is shaping up to be the Year of the Doormat). And in December 2011, the roommate and I signed up for Netlix.

And let me tell you, it has been a glorious month. I'm reacquainting myself with first loves like Scrubs and making new friends like Switched at Birth. I've dabbled in the Dr. Who waters and starting thinking in a British accent because I watched so many BBC shows. I love television, don't judge me.

Wednesday night, though, the honeymoon came to an abrupt halt. Nothing in my queue was subtitled. The subtitle button was gone. I rebooted the Wii. I tried to run a system update but there wasn't one available, so I know the software is fine. I checked the settings. Twice. I tested several shows in my queue by just playing it, thinking they moved the subtitle setting elsewhere. Nothing.

I checked on it again this morning, hoping it was just a fluke... but still, the subtitles are suspiciously absent.

Sad face, sad face, sad face.

Netflix customer service does not provide an email address, so I turned to social media for help. I posted about the issue on Netflix's Facebook wall (thrice!... which they deleted... thrice!) and bombarded Twitter with the problem. So far, my tweets have gone unanswered but on Facebook, I discovered that I wasn't the only person having issues:

To be clear, this is not an issue of "Why doesn't Netflix provide more subtitled content?" (For the record, as of last night, Phlixie listed over 5,000 titles that were available with subtitles. This afternoon, the number had dropped to 2,300. The plot thickens, but I digress.)

My concern is that subtitled content was available through the Wii and now it is not. When are the subtitles coming back? Why are they not working for the Wii? Is the issue with Netflix or with Nintendo? Are other platforms affected? Is there anything I can do to bring them back?

So far, my attempts to reach out to Netflix have led to dead ends. Will you help me get the word out to Netflix? Post your concerns on their Facebook page (they will delete it but at least you made some noise). Mention @netflix, @netflixhelps and @neilhunt in your tweets. Call Netflix at 1-866-501-1604. Write a blog post. Tell your friends.

And Netflix, if you're listening... help a girl out, huh? Answer some tweets. Check your Facebook. Your customers would be eternally grateful.

Some say looooooooove....

2012-01-08T14:24:00.000-06:00

(Click here for a subtitled version)

I'm back on eHarmony. I'm weak, don't judge me. I got suckered in by the free weekend and before I knew it, I had signed up for a three-month membership. Whoops.

I keep going back and forth, though, over whether to mention my hearing loss on my profile. On one hand, I want to be upfront so that there are no surprises. You know, if someone kept something like that from me until we'd exchanged several emails, I think I would wonder what else they might not be telling me. I don't want to appear deceptive. On the other hand, sharing that kind of information is pretty personal and I'd rather someone got to know me as a person (and me get to know them better) before divulging my hearing loss. Hearing loss is easy to misunderstand and I wouldn't want someone to see "hard of hearing" in my profile and run the opposite direction because they think it is something scary and foreign.

I also wonder how a relationship works if one person can hear and the other is hard of hearing. Would my friends who are hard of hearing with hearing spouses/significant others chime in here? In my more melodramatic moments, I'm convinced that NO ONE will ever GET me if they are not hard of hearing themselves and in my more mellow moments, I remind myself that I'm a person first, and that personality and heart trump hearing loss... I think?

Talk to me. What are your thoughts or experiences on being in a relationship when you are hard of hearing?

I posted this a while ago, but I think it's worth sharing again... I hope it makes you smile!

Thankful for you

2011-12-10T23:54:00.000-06:00

(Much of the correspondence that takes place among my church seems to end with the same affection: "Thankful for you." Hence, the title, apropos to this sincere story of appreciation for my church family.)

Today, I went up to my church to help wrap gifts for Affordable Christmas - an event that gives families in our community an opportunity to purchase Christmas gifts at extremely reduced prices. It's an amazing way to get to know the people who live in the area where the church is and I really enjoyed chatting with the families who came. And somehow wrapping gifts seems so much more fun when it's for someone else! :)

Before I went up to the church for my shift, though, I was battling anxiety and almost wanted to back out. I knew that the gift wrappers would be in the gallery, an area that tends to render almost everyone hard of hearing on Sunday mornings because it's not the most acoustically sound (ha, see what I did there?) place in the building. In other words, it be loud up in there! I only have one good hearing aid right now while I wait for new ear molds to arrive at my audiologist's office. I can't lipread and wrap presents at the same time. How was I going to engage with the shoppers and wrap their gifts at the same time, unable to filter out the dull roar of background noise?

But I was convicted that not going would be worse, so I made my way over and asked the gift wrap coordinator if she could pair me with another gift wrapper so that someone would have my back if communication became a problem. She happily teamed me up with another volunteer who graciously answered questions that I missed hearing and helped carry on conversations with the shoppers. While all that was going on, we worked together to wrap gifts. I'm so thankful for those two ladies who were willing to help me be part of the team!

That led me to reflect on the other ways I'm able to serve my church family. I help our children's ministry most Sundays and there have been a few times where I wondered if I was the best person for the job. Trying to field questions from parents and volunteers, help volunteers troubleshoot the check-in process, interact with kids who haven't learned how to enunciate yet... all in the very same gallery that reaches fever pitch every week. Shouldn't someone with better hearing be doing this? Would I serve my church family better by stepping down and letting someone who is better equipped step up? Am I making Sunday mornings more complicated for other volunteers who have to do their own jobs in addition to helping me communicate?

But every time I've raised the question with other volunteers or staff, the answer has been a firm "NO." If anything, they ask me what else they can do to make sure that I am able to fulfill my duties every Sunday. They don't let my disability get in the way of my ability to serve! They don't just minister to me and make me the object of their compassion and kindness - though they do that as well! - they equip me to serve along with them. They embrace 1 Corinthians 12, especially verses 14-26:

For the body does not consist of one member but of many. If the foot should say, "Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear should say, "Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body," that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.

The eye cannot say to the hand, "I have no need of you," nor again the head to the feet, "I have no need of you." On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty, which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it, that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.

Having the right heart and attitude toward someone who lives with a disability is so important for a church that is seeking to love the "weaker" members. Formal ministries and programs and schedules and plans and events can be good ways for a church to connect with those who have a disability, but all of those would fall short without the right heart. I'm grateful to be part of a church that faithfully preaches God's goodness in and sovereignty over the hard things like disability and takes the Bible seriously when it says that we are all one in Christ.

So church family, I am indeed thankful for you, and delighted to grow with you - for God's glory and our joy!

Hearing loss and personality

2011-10-03T21:39:00.000-05:00

I'm not even going to try to be all "Oh hey, internet, hey, I missed you, didja miss me?"

Because we all know the answer is YES.

So I went to this party a couple of weeks ago. Almost everyone there was deaf or hard of hearing, so I was all, "Great! Finally, I can go to a party and be able to keep up with everyone!" I had visions of finally discovering my true extroverted self as I flitted from group to group, emerging as the social butterfly I was always meant to be.

I arrived at the party and dropped off my dish (Pillsbury cookies lovingly sliced by hand and baked - I know, I am out of control here - by yours truly) and chatted with a friend. Then I moved into a room with fewer people and chatted with... TWO friends. Things really got wild when I was making my way to the sink to get some water (after the crowd from the drink station had dispersed, of course) and I was introduced to ONE person en route. Then to top it all off, I joined a larger, chatty group in the kitchen... and listened to their conversation but didn't say a peep.

It was a pretty wild night.

Growing up, I always assumed my reluctance to join large crowds or even to try to new things was related to my hearing loss. Communication is difficult, so of course it makes sense to stick to smaller groups. I didn't like surprises because I was terrified of missing information and embarrassing myself. Because that was my experience, I assumed that hearing loss would affect everyone's personality the same way and render all of us insecure introverts.

But I've met outgoing deaf people who have never met a stranger and fearless hard of hearing friends who swim with jellyfish (I mean, literally swim through a school - gaggle? herd? - of jellyfish... this is not an euphemism for being killed by the mob). I'm so grateful for these friends and acquaintances who remind me that hearing loss is not the end and I can't use it as a crutch to not do things.

Now, I am not so sure how much hearing loss affects one's personality. I do believe that people who are deaf or hard of hearing might have particular mannerisms or tendencies - like maybe we just notice things more or are good at picking up on non-verbal cues or we avoid noisy situations. Things like that may be a result of hearing loss but those aren't necessarily personality indicators.

I'm learning that maybe I'm the way I am because... I'm the way I am. Maybe large groups wear me out and being alone recharges me because I'm am introvert. I don't speak up much in a group because I like to think things over for a while before sharing. Maybe new situations and change and meeting new people make me nervous just because I am one of those people who takes a long time to adjust to change. And that's perfectly fine.

What do you think? Is there a relationship between hearing loss and personality? Do people who are deaf or hard of hearing adopt particular habits due to their hearing loss?

A bit of a break

2011-07-28T23:09:00.001-05:00

Do I even remember how to blog anymore? It has been so long... whoa dang.

This is pretty much what I have been doing lately:

work work work work sleep work work work pretend to pack work work work NEPHEW!!!

work work work work a little more eat half a bag of taco-flavored Doritos in one sitting work work

work work work weddings galore work work work work zzzz......

You get the idea. But - knock on wood - the crazy part is has passed, so hopefully I will be back to blogging more soon!

Also, I am moving next month (nowhere crazy, not far from where I am now) and can I just say that so far, I think my new landlady is AMAZING? Why, you ask? I will tell you why. I told her I would need a fire alarm with a strobe light so that I can be alerted by the flashing light; I can't rely on my hearing aids to let me know if there's an emergency. Now, experience has taught me that when I ask for accommodations, I should do the research myself and provide the other party (landlord, boss, university official, etc) with the information they need to obtain those accommodations. So I told the landlady that I had heard that I could get a fire alarm for free from the fire department but that I had never experienced that myself. I said I would research it and see if I could find out how to get one for free.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut... she emailed me before I had a chance to look into it and said that her friend was engaged to a firefighter and she would ask him about it. And friends, next thing I know, they've ordered the device for me and not only is it a flashing fire alarm, but it comes with an infrared sensor that can go on my bedside table and a vibrating alarm that can be put under the mattress! She went all out!

It was really nice to have this one thing be something that I didn't have to think about. I'm really grateful that she was willing to meet the need and didn't expect me to do all the heavy lifting. Advocating for oneself is hard - and necessary - work, but it's nice when someone eases the burden a little.

Have you experienced someone advocating for you? What kind of accommodations do you use at home?

Happy weekend!

How to deal with hearing loss on the job

2011-07-11T22:22:00.002-05:00

One of the workshops that I went to during the HLAA convention last month was called, "The Art of Telling: How to Tell Your Date/Boss/Friend That You Have Hearing Loss." The gist of the presentation was that it's important to not shy away from revealing your hearing loss because it helps you facilitate communication, which is foundational to any relationship.

When I have more time, I hope to blog more about this particular workshop because it was fantastic, but for now, I wanted to talk about how to deal with your hearing loss at work. The speaker made some excellent points, including:

1) Those of us with hearing loss should focus on our assets rather than be distracted by what we can't do.

2) If we are comfortable with our hearing loss, others will be comfortable with it as well.

3) It's our responsibility to tell our employers what we need in the workplace.

Here's what that means in my head:

1) When you're in an interview, never portray your hearing loss in negative terms. Don't give any indication that it will hold your back or hinder your ability to do your job well. Your hearing loss will only limit you if you let it. While it's true that your hearing loss may make you unavailable for certain types of jobs (for instance, I will probably never be a receptionist because that's just too much with the phones or a server in a restaurant because I would not be able to hear everyone's orders in a bustling environment), there are so many more that you are well-equipped for. If you're organized or detail-oriented or have an aptitude for technology, say so. If you need to work on your time-management skills or find it difficult to relate to customers, tell your prospective employer that you're working on them. Focus on your job-related strengths and be honest about your weaknesses - but just know that hearing loss is not one of those weaknesses! If you think your hearing loss will be a problem on the job, your prospective employer will think so, too... and probably won't make an offer.

2) When I was interviewing for my current position, I had a phone interview with the manager of the department. I was using a CapTel phone and, for those not familiar with the technology, there is a two or three second delay while the captions catch up. Because of that, I made the decision to tell the manager about my hearing loss and explain briefly how the phone worked. Then I moved on with the conversation. It was important to me that I was honest with him about who I was so that there were no surprises when we met in person. I didn't spend too much time on the subject of hearing loss because I wanted to show him that it would not affect my success on the job and I wanted to have plenty of time to share about my time on the campus newspaper, my English degree and the leadership roles I'd taken on in college, things that had far more to do with the position than what kind of phone I was going to need to do the job. I didn't make my hearing loss an issue and as a result, neither did they.

3) Generally speaking, if you need any kind of accommodations on the job, it's your responsibility to identify what you need in order to do your job well and then ask for it. I don't remember if my needing a Captel phone came up in my interview or not, but it was a point of discussion within the first few days of working there. I had to explain how the CapTel was different than a TTY and why a CapTel was a better fit, not just for me, but for the position (in this case, my clients needed to be able to call me directly so a TTY was not a viable option). Employers need to be educated about hearing loss just like anyone else. Be patient, explain (nicely!) what you need and work with them to find solutions. Advocating for yourself at work by knowing what kind of accommodations you need and asking nicely for them will also help fulfill the other two points - it will show your boss(es) and co-workers that you are comfortable with your hearing loss and that you're not allowing it to deter you from doing your job well.

What else would you add? What issues come up when you're looking for a job? How do you deal with hearing loss in the workplace after you've landed the job?

To cochlear or not to cochlear

2011-07-07T21:47:00.002-05:00

I always figured I would get a cochlear implant... someday. I don't have any special reasoning behind this other than that it just always felt like the natural order of things. I've been operating under the assumption that eventually, I'll lose all my hearing (I've lost most, but not all) and would need a cochlear implant... someday. I never had any time frame for this mysterious someday... it just wasn't right now so I didn't concern myself with the particulars.

But now, I find myself drawn to the topic with surprising frequency. In two short years, I'll be 30. I don't know why, but getting a cochlear implant always seemed like a very 30s thing to do. Old enough to be sure that it's what I want and young enough to appreciate the benefits, bounce back from the surgery quickly and (knock on wood) handle the rehabilitation process with more ease (in theory, anyway... everyone responds to surgery differently, I know. I'm just sayin'... generally speaking, there are benefits to having this kind of procedure while I'm in my spring chicken stage of life).

I'm not sure I could pinpoint any one reason why I think getting one is a good idea. I'm concerned I might want one for the wrong reasons. I'm tempted to think it will make me "more hearing," and thus help me to fit in. But hearing aids and cochlear implants aren't like glasses. When I put my glasses on, my vision is, for all intents and purposes, back to normal. Being deaf or hard of hearing isn't like that, though. Hearing aids, cochlear implants and assistive listening devices can help fill in some of the gaps, but they do not "cure" hearing loss.

I know this, but still I wonder... would music sound sweeter with a cochlear implant? Could I learn to recognize speech without always having to look at someone? Would having a cochlear implant help me be more aware of my auditory surroundings?

On the other hand, I am doing well with my hearing aids. Why rock the boat? Also, getting a cochlear implant is permanent; if for some reason the implantation or activation was unsuccessful or if I decided I just didn't like it, then my understanding is that I couldn't just go back to wearing hearing aids. Finally, I know my hearing aids, how to care for them and what the world sounds like with them. A cochlear implant seems so foreign and I suspect that's where most of my hesitation comes from - a fear of the unknown.

So I'd really like to hear from others who have a cochlear implant. What prompted you to get one? How do you feel about the results? And if you are deaf or hard of hearing but do not have a cochlear implant - why not? Do you wear hearing aids or use any other assistive listening devices?

I want to help because I want to belong

2011-07-06T22:27:00.000-05:00

During my first semester of living on campus, I was the last person to join the suite. There were a total of six girls sharing one bathroom and no kitchen (I'll let you use your imagination to determine how that worked out. I'll give you a hint: not well). The small suite actually had three bedrooms, with two roommates per room. The chore list rotated among each set of roommates and even though I had only been there for a couple of days, I was eager to pitch in. But my new roommate wouldn't hear of it. "Oh no!" she insisted. "You just got here, so it's not fair to ask you to clean up our messes. I'll take care of it."

I couldn't explain to her why her well-meaning brush-off bothered me. I didn't know why I, a devout disciple of disarray, was suddenly verrrry concerned with emptying the trash can. I just knew I was frustrated and I vented my feelings to one of our suite-mates, who basically said, "Well, I told her [my roommate] to let you help her clean so you would feel included!" I still don't know how someone who had only known me a few days was able to tell me something about myself that even I didn't know about, but I'm glad she did. I learned something important that day - inclusion takes on many different forms.

As someone who is hard of hearing, when I complain about not being included, I usually mean that I'm frustrated with being left out of a conversation. I am always trying to position myself strategically so that I can see who is talking. I map out the best place to sit in a room and am learning to do a better job of asking people to clarify when I don't understand something or if I'm not confident I heard them correctly. I ask people to look at me when they talk and occasionally, I've had to had some difficult conversations with friends and roommates when I've been discouraged over being left out. Being able to participate by speaking up and feeling a sense of belonging by being heard are important and, I would guess, often taken for granted by those who can hear. People who are deaf/hard of hearing and people who are hearing need to be aware of this and both parties should take responsibility to ensure inclusive communication for all.

However, what I learned in college, and what I'm still learning today, is that including others and taking steps to include yourself is just half of the equation. I want to be included so that I can participate. I want to be a part of what is going in, to be in the middle of the action, to feel like I belong. I won't always be able to be part of conversations, so I look for other ways to include myself. One of the ways I do that is to help others. I may not be able to catch every piece of the chatter around the dinner table, but I can help clear the dishes and feel like I contributed something to the evening. I can't always keep up with a group of friends, but I can pitch in by watching their kids or helping them move. I may not be able to hear, but there are a lot of things that I can do. Being hard of hearing doesn't render me useless - there is still a lot that I can and want to contribute. So sometimes, when I ask someone, "Can I help you with anything?" what I might really mean is, "Is there anything I can do so that I can feel like I'm part of the group?" (That's not to say that I want someone to just make up a task to make me feel better about myself - I would rather do something that is either genuinely helpful or nothing at all.)

You don't have to be hard of hearing to understand the desire to fit in or to belong. Can you think of a time when you wanted to participate but felt like you couldn't?

And if you are hard of hearing (or know someone who is), do you find yourself offering to help so that you can feel like you are part of the group? Or is that just me?

My Song (and a crash course in BSL)

2011-07-04T22:28:00.000-05:00

When I was in college, I had to read a short story whose title I've forgotten already. It was about an old lady who lived in an antebellum mansion and was obsessed with the past and the Civil War (at least I think it was the Civil War. I may be making that up) even though it was after the turn of the century. During the class discussion over the story, I learned a new word - anachronism. The main character was so closely associated with the time period that she was obsessed with that it made her seem out of place in her current setting. She didn't "belong" in the present.

Taking some liberties with the definition, this video reminds me of the same theme. Not really fitting in any one particular world, but trying to find a way to carry on regardless. Anyway, step away from that King of Queens episode that you've seen 729 times and watch this instead.

It's okay if you cried, I did, too. Well, I would have if my eyes weren't fighting a losing battle to stay open. Even though the film was made in Britain and used BSL (British Sign Language... yes, each country has its own sign language), I could relate to Ellen's struggle to fit in. And now I want to brush up on my BSL alphabet!

Have you ever felt like you didn't quite fit in? How did you respond?

Superpowers

2011-06-30T22:21:00.000-05:00

WARNING: NERD ALERT IN EFFECT FOR THE REMAINDER OF THIS POST. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

I shared two meals today with two separate groups of people. And I realized that good Lord Almighty, my eyes never rested. Ever. I was looking at my food, glancing around the table to see if anyone was speaking, double-, triple- and quadruple-checking to make sure no one was talking and that it was okay to say something; visually roaming the table to figure out who was talking and what they were talking about and checking, re-checking and re-re-checking to see if anyone was talking to me and if I needed to react to anything (laugh when everyone else laughed, etc).

I've heard that when you lose one sense, the others overcompensate. I've always been more sensitive to smell than the rest of my family and I'm pretty particular about being touched. Whether that has anything to do with hearing loss or my own personal quirks remains to be seen, of course, but come jump to conclusions with me, will you?

As it turns out, there could actually be a parallel between hearing loss and enhanced visual perception. One of my Facebook friends posted this article about how deaf and hard of hearing people actually see differently than hearing people - not better, just differently.

"And for people who are deaf, it's been discovered that visual attention is heightened in their peripheral vision. A hearing person has 360 degrees of perception, since your brain can locate objects based on sounds. But those who are deaf, Allen says, lose 180 degrees of that perception.

So researchers think the deprived auditory areas of the brain reorganize to better process visual information. As a result, people are more sensitive to moving stimuli in their periphery, like a car speeding toward them in the street."

Do you know what this sounds like to me? SUPERPOWERS, awww yeah! How did I get from visual perception to superpowers, you might be asking. That would be an excellent question but unless you, too, have grown up on a media diet of X-Men (That last movie really spoke to me. And by "movie," I mean James McAvoy) and Heroes, I'm afraid my reasoning would be lost on you anyway.

I need to know what's going on around me at all times, so I am constantly looking and scanning and glancing and gazing and searching... these powers can be used for both good and evil. You definitely want me on your team if we're playing hide-and-seek but I'm also easily distracted when the smallest motion enters my peripheral vision. I'm always aware of my surroundings but when I'm talking to someone, I tend to look around them but not at them. I need to be more disciplined about that - with great power comes great responsibility, you know.

So there we are. I'm not just hard of hearing... I'm visually-enhanced! ;) Think there's room for one more at Professor Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters?

(Obligatory James McAvoy picture from the Google. Just because. You're welcome.)

Do you sign?

2011-06-27T22:59:00.000-05:00

I don't remember learning sign language, but I also don't remember a time when I didn't know how to sign. I was mainstreamed starting in preschool and was around other deaf and hard of hearing children all through elementary school. I had interpreters in my classroom and spent time with Deaf Education teachers. Even my hearing friends learned to sign and we would "talk" during class... unfortunately, the teachers knew some sign language, too so we rarely got off scot-free! ;)

I never liked to sign at home, though, and I wish I could tell you why that is, but I haven't got a clue. I was fine with it at school but insecure signing at home. Maybe because at school, I was one of several deaf/hard of hearing students but at home, I was the only one with hearing loss. Was signing at home an uncomfortable reminder that I was "different"?

My parents and brothers do know a little bit - in typical BOY fashion, my brothers delight in signing "turtle" and "poop" over and over and over again. Eye. Roll. They all know how to sign the alphabet and that comes in handy when I just can't understand something they've repeated several times. Sometimes just signing the first letter of the word they're trying to say makes something click and I'll figure out that, doh, they were saying "mother" and not "brother."

But for the most part, I don't sign with my family or hearing friends, just with my deaf and hard of hearing friends. When I was growing up, my interpreters used CASE with me - Conceptually Accurate Signed English (others may know it as PSE), which uses ASL (American Sign Language) vocabulary but English word order and grammar. Many people don't know that ASL is actually considered a foreign language with its own grammar and syntax. I can understand ASL but I wouldn't say that I'm fluent in signing it myself. After a few years of being out of touch with the deaf and hard of hearing community, my signing grew rusty. Now, though, I feel like I'm getting my fingers back, though I'm not quite sure what brand of sign language I'd say I use. It feels more like a cross between CASE and SEE (Signing Exact English), which I lovingly refer to as LSL - Lucy Sign Language. ;) I'm thankful that my deaf and hard of hearing friends are patient with me as I re-learn everything!

Sometimes I wonder if I should be encouraging my hearing friends and family to learn a few more signs. What if my hearing loss progresses? How will we communicate? And not that I'm ancient by any means, but the older I get, I'm finding that I have less patience to keep up with groups of hearing people... maybe if I taught my close friends and family to be more fluent, our conversations would flow a little more smoothly. Plus, I watch a lot of small children and just welcomed a sweet little nephew into the world over the weekend. Children are hard for me to understand and I'd like to find a fun and easy way to teach them to sign so we can still communicate and enjoy each other.

How about you? Is sign language a part of your life?

Post-convention withdrawals

2011-06-23T22:31:00.000-05:00

Getting on the plane to come back home after the HLAA Convention was hard. Not because I couldn't understand the airline employee. Not because I was worried about traveling alone or trying to avoid the reality of going back to a routine come Monday. Not even because I loved DC so much that my inner history nerd could probably pack up and move there if given the chance.

No, coming home was hard because it meant leaving behind 1,200 people who get hearing loss. No, I didn't get to know each and every one of them. But for a few brief days, I didn't have to explain myself to anyone. When I asked someone to repeat themselves, no one rolled their eyes or sighed or looked startled - repeating is a natural part of the conversation among the deaf and hard of hearing. Communicating was comfortable and I never felt excluded from the conversation.

Don't get me wrong. Many of my friends and all of my family can hear. I love them dearly and I know the feeling is mutual. I appreciate it when they are sensitive to my hearing loss and work to include me in their activities. They are thoughtful and understand that sometimes I need a sensory break. They know to sit where I can see them and to speak clearly but not over-enunciate. I treasure these labors of love, though I know many of my friends and family would take issue with me calling it a "labor." "It's really not," they'll insist, and for that, I am grateful.

But as well-meaning and kind as my hearing friends and family are, there is just something that clicks more when I am with other deaf and hard of hearing people. It was a welcome break to be with other people who knew exactly what I meant and how I felt when I relayed the story of that one time my audiologist turned his back to me while he talked. We laughed together at the irony that even among other deaf and hard of hearing people, we still had to ask what was going on and who said what. We discussed hearing aid brands the way other people might discuss their favorite cars. We have our own vocabulary - audiogram, cochlear implants, CapTel and looping are probably not part of a typical lexicon.

Sometimes, when I am in a group of hearing people, who are all talking and my eyes are darting around the room, trying to figure out who is talking and what they are talking about and then trying to track that conversation as it flies from mouth to mouth... sometimes, I feel incapable. Like I am not smart. Like I don't have anything to contribute. I understand that may be my own faulty perception. Yes, there are strategies I can employ to maximize my group experience. No, I don't use them as often as I should. Yes, this is an exhausting lifestyle sometimes!

I came home to a Facebook message from one of my new friends that I had met at the convention."I eavesdropped a little on a conversation you were having," he explained. "I liked what you had to say." And I realized why leaving DC was so hard. Because I felt smart and capable, like I had something to say and to contribute. For lack of a better term, I felt more like a person.

Being hard of hearing in a hearing world is not the worst thing to happen to me. Not by a long shot. But I do often struggle with feeling like I live on the outside of things, always on the edge of everyone else's experiences. Helen Keller said, "Blindness separates us from things but deafness separates us from people." That separation is hard to bear sometimes, and that's why being around other deaf and hard of hearing people is a relief: I don't have to work so hard to understand and be understood. We know how to communicate so that everyone is included.

I'm glad I have a growing community of deaf and hard of hearing friends here at home, but I'm excited to make new friends across the country, too!

Next year in Rhode Island - who's with me?!

Please don't tell me it's not important

2011-06-22T21:25:00.000-05:00

I searched the airline employee's face in frustration. She had just made an announcement about my flight. At least I think she did. I heard "12 minutes" but that was about it; her mouth was obscured by the loudpseaker she was using to get her point across. I couldn't read her lips and I didn't understand what she was saying. I stole a quick glance around and noted that none of the other passengers waiting at the gate seemed alarmed by her message, so I was assured that there was no cause for concern.

But still. I had to solve the mystery of the 12 minutes because I like to know things. I'm nosy like that. So I asked the person next me. I explained that I was hard of hearing but I didn't catch the announcement. Could he please tell me what it said? He was kind to oblige me and as it turned out, we would be leaving in 12 minutes (I know, riveting solution, you can rest easy now). But then he said, "It wasn't anything important."

I smiled and thanked him but inwardly, I was groaning. It may not have been important to you, I grumbled on the inside, but it might have been to me!

I know, I know. In the grand scheme of things, no, it wasn't that important. I could have easily deduced what the 12 minutes were about and knowing that there wasn't an emergency, I could have boarded the plane in peace. And it's very likely that the gentleman who told me it wasn't important was just trying to assure me that there wasn't anything crazy going on.

Growing up, though, "It's not important" were three difficult words to swallow. "What did he say?" I'd ask a friend, because I so desperately wanted to know what everyone else knew, to fit in, to belong. "It's not important," was a common reply, because it would have taken too long to repeat, maybe. Or it was too complicated to explain. Maybe it really wasn't important.

The thing is, though, we don't get to decide what information matters to someone else. We can't assume that because we find one piece of information useless that someone else will feel the same way about it. We don't know what's going on in someone else's life or plans or day - maybe they really do need that information, however inconsequential it seems to us. It's kind of like a detective show... we've probably all seen an episode of CSI/Law and Order/NYPD Blue/(insert favorite cop show here) where a rookie cop overlooks an important piece of evidence that would have sent the bad guy right to jail. He didn't speak up because he thought it didn't matter, but if he had just passed his information on, the case would have closed long ago.

Are you with me? When it comes to hearing loss, those of you who can hear would be doing those of us who cannot a huge favor if you just pass the information on and let us decide for ourselves how to use it. When others decide whether something is important or not, sometimes I feel as if they're really saying that I'm not intelligent enough to make my own decisions - and that is harder to deal with than the hearing loss itself.

There and back again

2011-06-21T22:03:00.000-05:00

Soooooooooo..... apparently I was making things up when I said I was done with this blog.

Oops.

These are the facts of the case (and they are undisputed. (Not really, but name that movie!)):

Hearing loss is always on my mind. Might as well write about it.

I stopped blogging here in January. Yet this blog still gets hits and my stats tell me that people want to know about "how to live with hearing loss," "hearing aids" and "captions."

I went to Washington, D.C. last week for the Hearing Loss Association of America's national convention. Maybe someday, I'll blog about my experience but one of the things I came away with is that there is still work to be done. I met a couple of people who are affiliated with the Ida Institute, which aims to help audiologists better understand the psychological and social impact of hearing loss. This reminded me the importance of educating others about hearing loss - not just the medical aspect of it, but how it affects relationships, communication and emotional health. There were also several hearing spouses or family members at the convention - even those who do not personally live with hearing loss probably know someone who does. Hearing loss affects everyone.

Another thought I took away from the convention was the importance of staying connected. I was starting to build relationships in the online hearing loss community and sadly, I did not do a good job of maintaining those when I switched blogs. I'd like to get back into that again.

Finally, my personal burden is for churches to be accessible to the deaf and hard of hearing, so I will probably be writing a lot about that as well. This is not code for, "I'm going to convert you" or "Expect a lot of fire-and-brimstone speeches." I'm simply interested in figuring out how church can be accessible to everyone, including those of us with hearing loss. I imagine that many of the questions I wrestle with or issues that crop up won't be that different from trying to, say, procure CART for a college class or ask your boss for an amplified phone at work. So even if you're not the church-going type, I hope we can still find some common ground as we consider what it's like to be hard of hearing in a hearing world.

So long, farewell...

2011-01-01T09:48:00.003-06:00

Happy New Year, friends!

Like I said, the new year brings a new blog for me.

Before we move to the new place, I just wanted to say thanks. Sometimes blogging makes me feel vain - or at least I worry that other people will think I'm vain! ;) But the thing is that just like an artist creates something for other people to enjoy, so a writer writes for other people to read. So thank you for reading... I truly appreciate it.

Hope to see you on the other side! You can now find me at...

To Live Quietly

... auf Wiedersehen, adieu!

Ch-ch-ch-changes

2010-12-31T11:26:00.003-06:00

Happy New Year's Eve, friends! What are you doing today? I have a stack of movies a mile high. It is going to be glorious. Also, I figured out how to make my own cherry limeades, so Jesus can come back now. My life is complete.

Oh guess what, guess what, guess what??? Big changes are a-brewin' for this here blog. And by changes, I mean... I STARTED A NEW BLOG. BOO-YAH. I did this because, well, I kind of painted myself into a corner with my blog title, didn't I? I feel like I have to always write about hearing loss and while I'm always happy to share my experiences or think out loud about some issue related to it, it gets old, y'know? Well, not old, I guess, but considering I want to be a more deliberate blogger and at least aim for writing 3x/week, I think it would get old.

So I've made a broader blog. No painted corners this time. Just a place where I can blather incessantly about that one time I did something with someone somewhere or how I'm pretending to be Martha Stewart. It will be grand.

What this means is:

I will leave this blog up, but I won't be writing in it anymore. I hope it's been a good place for people new to hearing loss to learn a little bit more about what it means to be hard of hearing. That was the goal when I started anyway. To share a little bit more of my perspective with my friends and family and also to network with people who also live with hearing loss (either themselves or through a loved one).

I really would love to see you at my new place, so if you're so inclined, you'll need to update your subscriptions (if you subscribe) and following and google reading and bookmarking and all that jazz.

I will post the new link tomorrow so check back for updates!

Happy New Year's Eve, my friends. I hope it is a delightful day for each and every one of you!

Whirled peas

2010-12-27T20:23:00.008-06:00

I did approximately 8.26 billion hours of shopping last week. Which is quite the feat coming from someone who considers ONE measly hour of shopping to be one hour too many.

I'm a serious shopper. When I do venture out to spend money, I treat it like a marathon. I mentally map out the most effect route to take through the store - the one that gets me in and out and back home in my pj's in the shortest amount of time possible.

But of course, other people do not know this. And they dawdle. And their kids dawdle. And they use their shopping carts to block whole aisles. They linger awkwardly in that one section out of the whole entire store that I need to grab something from.

Rude.

You know what is missing from America's stores?

Walkways. Walkways are the answer. Forget airports. Put these babies into Targets across the nation and you will achieve world peace. Slow people can jump on them if they want, but as long as they keep to the right so I can breeze past them, there will be peace in all the land.

And also? I love walkways. It's true. I went to Las Vegas this fall to visit my cousin. One of my favorite parts was hopping on the walkway in the airport. Because the Las Vegas airport looks like this:

I had to walk something like 15 miles to get from my gate to the baggage claim. Those walkways sure came in handy.

In contrast, my airport looks more like this:

If you land at my airport and if for some bizarre reason, it's your final destination, then I can guarantee you that when you leave your gate, your baggage claim will be right around the corner. No walkways. It's a sad airport.

I don't really know how I got on this topic. My thought process is a little convoluted. Also, on Christmas Eve, I dreamed that I lived next door to a vampire. But then I also spent Christmas Day curled up in my dad's big chair, getting high on cough suppressant and ibuprofen. I also watched Eclipse last night. I don't think I can blame that one on a cold.

I think coming up with an ending is one of the most awkward parts of writing. Especially blogging.

Love,
Lucy

The best way to spread Christmas cheer...

2010-12-17T11:04:00.002-06:00

... or, How Many Pop Culture Christmas References Can I Make In One Post?

Am I the only one not really feeling the holiday spirit this year? Maybe my heart is two sizes too small.

Perhaps I'm a cotton-headed ninny-muuggins.

Or maybe because my Christmas tree - if you really want to call it that - looks more like Charlie Brown's

than Martha Stewart's

(not that I've ever had a tree that looked like Martha's, but... well, let me have my dreams). Or the fact that I've left most of my Christmas decor in boxes because it just seems like too much trouble to decorate my tiny little apartment. And yes, I know that Christmas is about more than trees and presents and decorations. But you try getting in the spirit without ornaments and lights, mmmkay?

I know. I have such a hard life. First-world problems and all.

But while we're talking about Christmas, let's talk about the main character: Santa (Ha! Thought I was gonna go all holy on you and say Jesus, didn'tcha? I'm sneaky like that). I have a confession to make. I love Santa. It's true. Now, I am not going to go all Brittany-from-Glee on you and tell you that I still believe in Santa. Actually, I don't remember ever believing in Santa. My parents were a little late to the party on that one and I am pretty sure I remember them trying to convince my enlightened and far-too-old-for-this seven year old self that Santa had left gifts for me. I was all, psh, puh-leez. I am too smart for this stuff. Fat man + chimney = bwahahahaha.

But I love Santa movies and elves and sleigh rides and the North Pole and smiling. Smiling's my favorite. There's just a feel-good charm about the whole thing. It's adorable and magical and there's plenty of room for imagination to run amok. And you know what? I've decided I'm a big believer in imagination. It's good for the soul. A little creativity never hurt anyone. We were wired to create, to wonder and to be thrilled by things. Let's run with that a little more, mmmkay? And Christmas is the most wonderful, wonderful, wonderful, wonderful time of the year to do that.

Now I have a few friends who are parents or about to be parents who are probably thinking about how to handle the Santa thing with their kids and to tell you the truth, I might feel differently about Santa if I was a mom. I'm not wild about letting my (fake) kid sit on a stranger's lap, tell him what they want for Christmas and then expect him to deliver on that. I don't know that I'd let them write letters addressed to the North Pole. I would definitely be emphasizing Christ in Christmas (I'm all holy like that, you know), but I also think that I would happily read them "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" and we would watch "Elf" every. single. day. between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

It's a cute story, really. A jolly old elf, flying reindeer, a magical sleigh with a sack bulging with presents. the naughty and nice list and a toy workshop. Adorable. Some people like wizards and Hogwarts and Narnia and lions and hobbits and rings and glittery vampires and russet werewolves (I mean really, people. Go back and read "New Moon" and count how many times the word "russet" is used to describe Jacob. Get a thesaurus, Stephanie Meyer. And with that, now you know one of my dirty little secrets. I read the whole freakin' series). I happen to like Santa. It's fantasy and whimsical and just plain fun.

So. There.

What puts you in the holiday spirit?

When knowing I'm yucky makes me happy

2010-12-12T22:14:00.004-06:00

You. Guys. It is 10 degrees. For realz. And they're saying mean things during the weather segments, like "wind chill" and "below zero" and "frostbite." Rude.

Didja miss me, internets? (I know, I'm vain. It's part of my charm.) If I did my math right (and that's always kind of a question mark), this is my 100th post! Bow chicka bow wow!

Anywhozzle, I've been feeling a little scattered lately. My apartment is a mess because I'm never here to clean it up and when I am home, I just want to watch reruns of How I Met Your Mother. I've got work, cavities, people, shopping, parties, crafts, hearing aids and "who am I/why am I here/ohmygawsh I'm having an identity crisis" to think too much about. It's so fun.

But when I get like that, all distracted and frustrated and annoyed, I start thinking that I can handle things on my own and that I am, in fact, all of that and a bag of chips (I know, I am so hip with the slang, I can barely handle it).

But today at church, our pastor was, as always (and in a good way), hammering home the point that there is something wrong with all of us, we're more ruined and awful and messed up and broken than we can ever dare imagine, and that Jesus is our only hope and came to fill our greatest need - our need for a Savior to save us from ourselves.

And all I could think was, "How come knowing how broken I am is the only thing that makes me feel complete?"

So funny how that works. Knowing who I really am - a mess - is actually the thing that makes me the most settled. Because the more aware I am of myself, the more I recognize my need for a Savior. And knowing the depth and desperation of that need causes me to treasure Jesus even more and myself even less.

Which, let's face it, is hard to do. We're selfish people. We think the world is about us. We're here to further our own agendas, meet our deadlines, make the best decisions for our lives and basically, do what we have to do to feel good. And when God says to us, "That's not really the way to happiness," we don't really believe Him, because His idea of joy and contentment is so radically different from our own.

But it's better. Harder and messier and raw, but better.

One of my pastors tweeted not long ago: "My parenting of my (young kids) is currently focused on 2 themes: You're not in control and you are deeply loved."

Which I think is a pretty good thing for all of us to know. We're not in control. We are broken, messy and falling apart - and there's nothing we can do about it. We can't make ourselves right and we don't have it all together. But. We are deeply loved by a Savior from whom we have received grace upon grace. God, who does not merely offer a solution to our problem, but who Himself is the Solution to our problem, loves us lavishly.

Which makes me feel pretty small, and God pretty big, which is exactly as it should be.

Big Teeth and Clouds

2010-11-29T08:32:00.002-06:00

You know that little blog stalking problem I have?

It really does pay off sometimes. I don't even remember how I stumbled upon Joey's blog, but I can almost guarantee there were stalking hijinks involved.

Joey's daughter, Julia, has mild/moderate hearing loss and I've loved learning about hearing loss from the parents' perspective. I've only ever approached my hearing loss from my experience, but it's something that affects the whole family.

Every month, Joey features a deaf or hard of hearing adult and this month was my turn! Head on over to her blog and read the (very. long. (oops)) post I wrote. Thanks for featuring me, Joey!

Happy Monday, friends!

Entitlement

2010-11-26T17:29:00.010-06:00

Happy Post-Thanksgiving!

Here's a math problem for you. All I did was make one batch of mashed potatoes, yet when all was said and done, I had four giant bowls soaking in sudsy water to get all of the potato-ness off of them, approximately 9,000 utensils scattered in the sink and took out two bags of trash in the last six hours.

How does that happen? If Rachael Ray or Martha Stewart ever need a replacement... don't call me.

But the potatoes... oh. my. word. They almost didn't make it to my aunt's for Thanksgiving because I may or may not have kept sneaking tastes. They are full of bad things. Heavy cream. Buttttah. Cream cheese. Don't look at me like that. It was a holiday. Go with it.

Annnnnyway, Thanksgiving. I feel like I won't be a good American unless I list all the things I'm thankful for, just like everyone else is doing. But that seems so... so... routine. Don't get me wrong, I am thankful for a lot of things. I understand the value of a grateful heart. But I'm wondering if I really know what thankfulness means.

I came across this Thanksgiving poem last week that just rubbed me the wrong way. It starts out like this:

Even though I clutch my blanket and growl when the alarm rings, thank
You, Lord, that I can hear. There are many who are deaf.

Even though I keep my eyes closed against the morning light as long
as possible, thank You, Lord, that I can see. Many are blind.

I think you can imagine why I found that a little offensive (!). The poem goes on to give thanks for things like family (because there are many who are lonely), food (because there are many who are hungry) and work (because there are many who don't have a job).

It's okay to be thankful for those things. But the motivation behind the gratitude in the poem is all wrong. Being thankful that you have something that someone else doesn't isn't really gratitude, but superiority.

The whole poem is really just one complaint after another. Paraphrased, it is basically saying something like:

"Poor me, I have to listen to my alarm shrill at me day after day, and I'm forced to leave my warm, cozy bed and work for The Man just so I can come home to crying children and a demanding spouse and burned toast in a modest house... but at least I'm not like those people! Even though I'm not really getting what I want, that's okay, because it could be so much worse."

Are we really that backwards that instead of truly being humbly thankful for what we do have, we're begrudgingly noting that at least someone else is worse off than we are? What we're really doing then is assuring ourselves that we're still awesome, that we've still got one up on everyone else. This isn't really a poem of Thanksgiving, but one of entitlement. It assumes that life should be free of restrictions and authority and cold and ruined food and illness and trials. That we are special and awesome enough to deserve a perfect life and have right to pitch a fit when it doesn't go our way.

I know this because I get behind the wheel of a car every day. I don't know what it is about driving that makes me act like a three year old, but it does. I mean, people are driving in my lane. What is up with that? I did not tell them they could be there. Why are they driving so slow? Don't they know that the speed limit thingy is just a suggestion? I have someplace to be and they are slowing me down and don't they know I will be late for work if they don't MOVE. IT.?! I act like I'm the only person on the highway who has schedule to keep. All of a sudden, everything becomes about me and my need to get somewhere and everyone who stands in my way is an enemy.

And the truth is that I live my life this way too. I don't know how to be thankful because I assume I'm entitled to live the way I want. It's hard to say "thank you" when you're distracted by the fact that your internet connection isn't fast enough or that the kitchen isn't big enough or the weekend isn't full enough. Then trying to fake an attitude of gratitude (cue cheesy sound effect) by mumbling, "Well, at least I'm not like that guy!" just doesn't cut it.

I think true thankfulness starts with humility, with recognizing who you really are (a sinner, not awesome and yucky), what you really deserve (wrath, hell and death) and what you got instead (grace, mercy and life). Only by breaking the illusion of entitlement will I really be thankful.

Which means I've got a long, loooooooong way to go.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience — among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ — by grace you have been saved — and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. - Ephesians 2:1-10

I am a dork

2010-11-24T17:00:00.002-06:00

I get really excited when our office closes early, as it did today for the holiday weekend. It means I get home in time to watch Jeopardy.

True story. I am a nerd like that. And I even got a few of the answers right, too. I may be using the term "right" loosely.

Also, I heard that eggs should be room temperature because then they'll cook up fluffier. I have no idea if that applies to baking, but I'm making chocolate chip cookies and my eggs are still a little chilly. So I'm holding them in my hands to warm them up. (This is a really hilarious sentence if you understand "eggs" as part of a woman's reproductive system. Giggle. I mean, really, I'm about to bust a gut here. Tears are streaming. I entertain myself well.)

So how exactly, you might wonder, am I typing this post?

Very carefully, that's how.

Hope your Thanksgiving is egg-stra special!

Catching a whiff

2010-11-21T21:05:00.003-06:00

Is Sunday the start of your week or the end of it? I can never decide.

The last couple of Sundays, I'v noticed that I come home smelling a lot better than when I left it. I mean, I use deodorant and everything (not like that one time), but I'm not really a body spray or perfume kind of girl. But after a morning of hugging various friends (and let's face it, the gallery just gets real crowded real fast), their body spray rubs off on me so when I get home, I have some sweet scents to remember the day by. Which is kind of lovely.

And maybe a little creepy.

Happy Thanksgiving Week!

(P.S. I've enabled comment moderation. Lame, I know. Just go with it.)

I'd rather have a pity party, thanks.

2010-11-17T22:01:00.001-06:00

That's what I said when one of my co-workers offered me an orange. For the Vitamin C. Because I was busy nursing a sore throat. Cough, cough. I'm a smidge overdramatic when battling viruses. Little bit.

Anywhozzle, sometimes when I get sick, or when I have a lot of things to bring in from the car, or when I have a lot of housework to do, I think, "Score one for roommates." (I pretty much have a daily "roommate vs. living alone" kind of mental scoreboard going on. Just go with it.) Sure, living with people is hard. They don't always do their chores. Or maybe you do something that irritates them. Schedules conflict and decorating preferences clash. It can be rough.

But it's nice to be able to text someone and ask for help bringing on all the groceries. Or share the burden of chores. Or bring you soup when you're sick... or at least throw some sympathizing glances your way. And good roommates - if you are lucky enough that they are good friends, too - will say things like, "You kind of suck right now." And yes, that counts as a point for the roommate scenario.

This is the epiphany I had the other day. I mentioned briefly that sometimes I feel like my life is full of busy-ness but devoid of meaningful relationships. Then I started thinking about what I wanted my relationships to look like and why they did not look like that. There are a lot of factors. Schedules. Personalities. Priorities. Normal things. Neutral things. But outside of those, something I kept coming back to was: me. Maybe I'm one of the reasons that I don't have the relationships that I want. So I've been praying. And thinking. What are the things that I do or don't do that might turn people off? That might be overwhelming? That might just plain annoy others?

And then I realized, it would take me a long time to come up with that answer on my own. When I look in the mirror, I do see a sinner, but I tend to under-emphasize my sinfulness and exaggerate my awesomeness. So unless someone comes up and holds a different kind of mirror up to me and says, "Hey, you are being really dumb and it really hurts my feelings when you ________." Or, "I think that you are making a mistake by ___________." Even, "When you do _______, it is overwhelming/frustrating/irritating."

Those are hard things to hear. And I confess that I don't handle critique well. I want to be a more gracious person and take correction like a grown up, not a three year old with a temper tantrum. But if I don't know my sins, how will I grow? If I can't see the things that are keeping me from focusing all of my attention on Christ, how will I learn? How can I have genuine relationships with people if no one tells me how I'm being dishonest?

I need people to tell me when I'm being dumb. Left to my own devices, I'm going to think I am pretty hot stuff. I'll strut around, patting myself on the back for my good deeds or for being the most mature person the room (never mind that I'm the only person in the room).

I've had a few roommates who were willing to do that for me. At the time, I was mad at them for doing it. How dare they have the audacity to tell Awesome Me that I was really a Sinful Me? What I didn't know then was that it was the most loving thing they could have done. Thanks, ladies.

(And no, it's not just roommates who do that. Friends. Family. I was just reflecting on roommates in particular but by no means is saying hard things limited to people who occupy the same household.)

Hey, you know how when you let out a really big sneeze and you get light-headed for a few minutes and you can pretty much feel your eyes glazing over with that weird "I'm getting sick" look and your core body temperature rises about 500 degrees and you start saying loopy things like "One time, at band camp..."?

No?

Oh, me either.

If you need me, I'll be delirious with cough suppressant and carrying on a conversation with the light switch.

Love language

2010-11-12T21:18:00.008-06:00

Sometimes I wonder (er, worry, if we're really being honest here) if my hearing aids are a turnoff to prospective suitors. How do relationships work if one person is deaf or hard of hearing and the other isn't? I know people do it and I'm curious how they manage. Does it get tiring for the hearing person to have to repeat themselves? Does it get tiring for the deaf/hard of hearing person to explain themselves?

Am I thinking too much again?

Don't answer that.

Just watch this video that I stole from Speak Up Librarian. It made me smile. And helped me stop thinking.

And I confess I teared up a little, too. I'm a girl. It's what I do. Just go with it.

Happy Weekend-ing!

Please send chocolate

2010-11-11T21:07:00.003-06:00

Ummmmm... Thanksgiving is in TWO. WEEKS. howdidthathappen?

I bought three cans of pumpkin to celebrate.

I've never baked with it.

This could be interesting.

I feel like I have been super busy lately.

Mostly, this is a good thing.

A year ago, I rarely left my couch.

Now, I rarely see it.

But I wonder, am I so busy doing things that I'm not making room for people?

And if I have to ask...

So that's why it's been quiet over here.

Busy.

Tired.

Please send chocolate.

Over and out.

Stalking for Zoey

2010-11-08T20:58:00.001-06:00

Let's talk about what an epic blog stalker I am. It's true. It didn't take long for me to earn the moniker of "Xanga Stalker" (haha, oh Xanga) in college, which of course quickly gave way to being a Facebook Stalker. And let's be honest, we can all attest to varying degrees of Facebook stalkdom, yeah? Now, friends, I have another badge to add - Blog Stalker. Not to scare you or anything, but if you're a friend of a friend of a friend of a cousin's third niece twice removed on Great-Aunt Sally's stepbrother's side, I've likely been lurking your site.

Just go with it.

Anyway, blog stalking turns up such a treasure trove of stories, and really (in a vain effort to make myself not sound so creepy), it's all about the stories for me (I used to be an English major, so I can get away with saying that). Funny stories, sad stories, make-you-think stories, life stories. I love it. I love learning about how other people are living and in some weird way, feeling a sense of community. A bloggunity, if you will.

This blog stalking passion of mine introduced me to Jessie. I don't know Jessie. I haven't met her personally. But I did grow up with two of her cousins (see, I wasn't kidding. No one is immune to the Blog Stalker! muwahahaha!) and that's how I found her blog. Jessie and her family are raising money to adopt their daughter, Zoey, from Africa. They're still in the midst of the adoption process. They don't know what she looks like or what her circumstances are or if she's even been born yet. But they've already named her and they already love her. Tell me you are not blinking back tears right now!

Anyway, this week, Jessie is holding a giveaway to help raise money for Zoey. Oh my word, you guys, there are so many drool-worthy items you could win. Notecards, necklaces, baby slings... (I know, what am I going to do with a baby sling? Well, I will tell you... Baby shower gift, that's what! Whoever said the birth rate was declining has clearly never been to my church. There are something like seven babies due in March alone!) I believe the word you're looking for is awwww-sum!

So, will you go with me and enter the Love Wins giveaway on Jessie's blog, so that Zoey can come home?

A call for recipes

2010-11-05T13:37:00.004-05:00

I'm not a busy mom. Mostly because I am not a mom. But I am one of those weak-willed creatures for whom it does not take much to overwhelm. That didn't make sense, did it? my English major self scolds. In other words, I do lead a busy life and when I get home from work, I'm usually just jumping in the shower before grabbing dinner and dashing off again. And then even when I have evenings to myself, I don't want to do anything. Just lounge on the couch and watch re-runs of The Office. Because I am a wimp like that.

So what I try to do once a month or so is make a lot of food and freeze it so that I can just grab and nuke as needed. But let me tell you, as much as I lurrrrrv me some Mexican, enchilada casserole can get old after a while. Plus, it is a whole new season now, so I'm in the mood for soups, stews and the like. Or anything I can make in a crock pot, really. And mark my words, there will be potatoes all over my kitchen counter soon.

The only catch is that I don't want to spend a lot of money, so I'm drawn to recipes that will use things that I probably already have on hand. This means that I envision quite a bit of chicken tortilla soup in my future. My itty bitty kitchen is always stocked with corn, beans, salsa, tomato sauce, crushed tomatoes, tomato paste and chicken broth. And spices. And loooove (insert cheesy head-tilt here).

So can you help a sister out? What are some of your favorite fall/winter recipes? And does anyone have an UH-MAZING homemade spaghetti sauce recipe to share? That one has proven most elusive to me. Send me your recipes and I'll even blog about it. If you know my propensity towards disaster in the kitchen, it could be pretty high-larious.

Please and thank you!

Young whippersnappers

2010-11-03T13:52:00.005-05:00

Continuing with this old lady theme I'm rocking, try this one on for size.

When I was growing up, it never really occurred to me to turn off my hearing aids, other than at bedtime or once in a very great while and even then it was in jest. Like when my dad was singing obnoxiously, I would make a big show of turning of my aids and effectively "muting" him. Ha. Ha. But other than that, I was too nervous to intentionally leave myself in silence for longer than a few minutes. What if I missed something?

But now lately, I find myself doing it all the time. Even at work. I've been known to spend the better part of the week in my little cone of silence. I can't filter out background noise. It just turns into this churning mass of hums, clicks, murmurs and whirs, all shaken up and poured out into my ears. It's always been bothersome, but I relished hearing while I could. Now, though, it's like nails on a chalkboard. The whir of the printer, the high heels clacking on the floor, the voices - and not just the ones in my head, thankyouverymuch - floating all around... cacophony. Jarring, grinding, nagging, irritating cacophony.

And I can't figure out why this is bothering me now when it never really has before. Maybe it's a change in my environment. Not having to share my living space has made me more comfortable with silence, perhaps, and so the rhythm of everyday life is suddenly jarring. Or maybe my hearing loss is changing somehow, or getting more progressive. Maybe I need to change my hearing aid batteries. Or my personal favorite, I'm old. Let's face it, people. I'm in my pj's by 6:15. I'm sprouting white hairs. Hymns are my favorite music these days.

I'm just one defiant "you young whippersnappers!" and a shaking fist away from the early bird special at Luby's Cafeteria. Come visit me at the nursing home, k?

Old lady

2010-11-01T20:29:00.002-05:00

You guys. It is 8:29 p.m. and I'm in my pajamas. And I have been since 6:15. And I'm pretty sure that if I was laying down on my couch right now, I'd be losing a battle with my eyelids. I know, I am a wild woman. Don't hate.

I have about zero original things to say today, so I'll just point you to a couple of links I thought interesting.

Last night's Extreme Makeover: Home Edition took place in Oregon. Instead of giving a family a new house, though, Ty and co. gave Oregon School for the Deaf new dorms! Neat-o supreme-o (oh my, yes.i.did.just.say.that. Old lady alert)! You can watch the video at ABC's website - and with subtitles, too! Marlee Matlin made an appearance and several of the students got new hearing aids from Starkey. So nifty (I'm just full of old school today)!

And then today over at (e's blog, she talks about conversational delays. It's one of those things that I notice about myself but at the same time, I don't. I'm so accustomed to these pauses that I barely notice them anymore. But I'm glad (e blogged about it, because I genuinely thought maybe something was wrong with me that it took me a few seconds to process information! ;) So now you know. When I stare at you blankly from time to time, I'm just trying to catch up.

Okay, the grandma in me is ready for some couch time, warm milk and either a book or Star Trek: TNG. It's an old lady kind of evening, and that's peachy keen with me.

Obligatory Halloween Post

2010-10-31T20:43:00.007-05:00

I'm not a Halloween person. I mean, I was when I was little and there was candy involved but now I'm apparently too old for that, so really, what is the point? I'm not a fan of scary movies, either. I can barely handle this one:

Laugh if you must, but I mean, if you found this among your stuffed animals (yes I have stuffed animals, so.sue.me)-

- wouldn't you

too?

This part just gives me the straight-up heebie-jeebies. Always has. I have to cover my eyes when it's on.

I've given myself nightmares just asking the Google for these images. Mostly because I came across this one:

If that doesn't seal the deal for you, I just don't know what will.

I hope your Halloween weekend has been safe and fun and full of candy delight! (send.me.some.)

Contributing with disability - Part 5-ish

2010-10-29T10:21:00.003-05:00

Whew. I made it. Part 5-ish. I don't know how some bloggers manage to do this every. single. day. Kudos to those who do! I've learned a lot from writing this little series and I'm so grateful for the discussion it's sparked. I hope we'll keep on discussing and talking and thinking and engaging. Community-ing, if you will.

Defining disability - Part 1
The kinship of disability - Part 2
A proper response to disability - Part 3
Learning from disability - Part 4

Anyway, so all week long I've been talking about what the church can and needs to do for those with disabilities. But as with most things in life, it's a two-way street, you know. Those of us who do live with disabilities cannot just stand around, waiting to be served. My friend Carin commented on one of my earlier posts and I thought she made a great point:

"Disabled" people also need to get involved and do things they are gifted and able to do. ... [W]e who are viewed as "disabled" have a responsibility to become involved and serve as well. And it need not be only in the area of our "disability" as you said. For example, as a deaf person, I am still able to serve my church family in many ways - not only the deaf - but my CHURCH FAMILY (all of them!). There are some things that I am not able to do well because of my hearing loss, but there are many other things I CAN do to serve. I need to do some of them and not just sit back with the attitude that "oh I am deaf..."

People with disabilities are often just as guilty of perpetuating division within the church by demanding this service or that accommodation, or by sequestering themselves with people who are like them. I know that sometimes I am tempted to think that because I have a disability that my suffering is more unbearable than someone else's, or that I am worthy of more attention because of it. But that is not true at all. Disabled or not, we are all sinners in need of a Savior and ought to serve one another in light of that truth. When I look at a brother or sister, I shouldn't see their able bodies and be jealous or angry; instead, I should see someone who needs Christ just as much as I do. The cross is an equalizer in that there is no room for superiority or inferiority in the Body - we are all disabled in soul before the Lord.

Something else that I'm tempted to do is to claim that I have nothing to contribute to the Body or that I'm worthless to serve because I can't hear everything. But when I do that, I buy into the lie that hearing loss defines me instead of embracing the truth that the gospel does. It's true that I can't hear everything and that there will just be some areas where I cannot serve. For example, you'll never see me help lead worship and I'd be reluctant to work at the information desk. I see so many people with disabilities just not contribute because they focus so much on what they can't do, or maybe they're missing all the things they used to be able to do and now suddenly can't. And at the heart of it is a pride issue; we want to do what we want to do and are angry that our efforts are hampered. Isn't God faithful, though? He doesn't let us slip through the cracks and He certainly doesn't put us out of commission just because our ears or legs or eyes stop working. To say that we have nothing to offer because of our disability is like saying that disability has more power than God, that the Almighty could somehow be crippled by our weakness. Puh-leez.

Having a disability does not excuse us from coming alongside of our brothers and sisters, to weep when they weep, to rejoice when they rejoice. My hearing loss does not let me off the hook to make meals when a family welcomes a new baby, help coordinate childcare, hand out worship guides, pitch in with cleanup, be kind to people, love them as Jesus does and offer a listening heart. It's true that I can't do everything, but I can trust that the Lord will equip me to do the things that He has called me to do - for my good and His glory. And so often, we expect that God has a special job just for us and that disability has somehow thwarted that plan, but that's presumptuous. God is, I think, less concerned with exactly what it is we are doing and far more concerned with how we are doing it. There are no loopholes in Micah 6:8 - abled or disabled, the decree is the same:

He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

Finally, those of us with disability need to remember that these are just temporary bodies. C.S. Lewis said, "You don't have a soul. You are a Soul. You have a body." Bodies with crooked spines and lifeless legs and silent eyes and damaged ears - they're just for now. Disability advocacy and raising awareness is a good thing, but it's not the most important thing. When we make disability the standard by which we live, we've missed the point. When we judge other people or churches based on whether or not they meet our needs, we're sinning. At the end of the day, the question is not, "Did the church serve my disability?" but, "Is Jesus my only hope?" Am I finding joy and fulfillment and completeness in the finished work of Christ and embracing the truth that His blood has already spoken for me, or am I basing who I am and what I think and how I act on how my body functions or doesn't function?

God is enough. And that's all I really wanted to say.

Learning from disability - part 4

2010-10-28T08:37:00.002-05:00

Read Part 1
Read Part 2
Read Part 3

Okay, friends, we’re in the home stretch. Part 4. I was going for a part 5, but I’m not confident that I’ll make it. That’s why I kept adding the “-ish” at the end. Five-ish. Ishes are so helpful in creating loopholes, dontcha know?

What I’ve found in my own life, and from what I’ve learned from others’ stories, is that disability can be a blessing because when something is taken away – sight, hearing, legs, neurons, synapses – you are forced to come face to face with the truth that you are broken. Not just in body, but in soul. That there is something wrong and that you can’t fix it. The need for grace seems more evident when you live with brokenness. Disabilities and sickness and weakness and brokenness point us to God and remind us that He is sovereign and complete and that only He can fix us, body and soul.

A friend of mine, who lives with hearing loss brought on by Meneire’s Disease, put it well:

I like the idea of using the Paraclete Ministry [a disability ministry at her church] as a impetus to remind "normal" people that the Fall, our sin nature, the afflictions in our bodies are a part of all of us... not just the person in the wheelchair or carrying an oxygen tank or wearing hearing aids. Weakness is not a popular thing in our culture or our churches. We want to be strong. I think weakness is where God wants us to be so that we can rely on His strength. Healthy people working with sick people (could be temporary illness like chemo for cancer, or recovering from difficult childbirth, accident, or something chronic, long-term, or even terminal) are going to be reminded that this is what the Fall did, it made pain, sorrow and death come into the world. How thankful we all should be that the Redeemer saved us from our just punishment in hell!

Greg Lucas at Wrestling with an Angel shares his thoughts on how he sees his son experiencing God:

Locked away in the mystified mind of my mentally disabled son is a deep thinking joy that can only be explained as “the secret things of God.”
…
My son also gives the impression that he too shares a divine bond with his heavenly Father. One of the first words in sign language Jake learned as a young child was the sign for “Jesus” which is displayed by pointing to the center of each hand (where the nail prints will be found). Ask him where Jesus lives and Jake will point upward. Ask him where else Jesus lives and Jake will point to his heart. I don’t remember ever teaching my son these things. Could it be that for many years he has known of the One who sits at the Father’s right hand, and inhabits the hearts of men?

I have watched Jake sit through entire sermons and nod his head appropriately. I have watched him give emotional standing ovations at the end of a well preached message (even when he is the only one clapping in a room of 300 people). He also claps at the end of each prayer—it is a hearty, resounding AMEN!

There have been times after a sermon or moving hymn when Jake is in tears. I do not know what is going on in his mind during these times. I only know that there is so much more happening than the doctors and specialists have ever dreamed possible in the silent, diminished world of his “disabled mind”.
…
Is it possible that my son’s inability to see things as a “normal” person sees, or his incapability to understand what “ordinary” people understand, is actually an exceptional ability rather than a disability?

Or could it be that I am the disabled one here? That through my own personal pride and the superficial cares of this world I am calloused to the deeper things of God, deaf to His audible voice, and blind to His very real presence in my life.

And that’s why the church needs people with disabilities. It’s not just that we need to minister to the disabled and make them feel loved and welcomed, but we need to learn from them as well.

A proper response to disability - part 3

2010-10-27T08:55:00.005-05:00

So because I consider myself to have a disability and strive to identify – at least emotionally – with other people who have disabilities, I’m naturally drawn to discussion on the topic, particularly in a church setting.

I know a lot of deaf and hard of hearing people who have a hard time with church. Even churches that provide an interpreter or other accommodations haven’t equipped the rest of the congregation to come alongside of those with the hearing loss. So the deaf and hard of hearing tend to just fellowship with each other. And this doesn’t just happen in church, really, but in daily living. And not just with people with disabilities. We all tend to clump together with people who are like us, regardless of how much we say that we are in favor of diversity and unity and yada yada yada.

So when it happens in church, on one hand, it’s natural and unsurprising. On the other hand, that’s not who God has called us to be in Christ. Scripture says that we are all one in Christ, and that we are part of one body. There shouldn’t be division in the church because we’re all the same before the Lord. I really long to see the church come alongside of people with disabilities, not just to minister to them in the sense of serving them and making life a little easier, but to enter into their world with the intention of learning from them as well. To welcome people with disabilities as wholly functioning parts of the Body, not treat them as a fringe ministry.

I'm so thankful for blogs like The Works of God and Wrestling with an Angel. Both of the men who write these are fathers who have children with a disability. I don’t know the particulars of each and a parent’s perspective is a bit different than the child’s, but I can identify with a lot of what they share and I appreciate their gospel-centered perspective on suffering.

A while ago, John Knight (The Works of God) wrote a post that helped clarify my own thoughts. I encourage you to read the whole thing, but I particularly liked his argument that God cares about disability, so if we are called to care about the things that God cares about, then we need to care about disability, too.

What this means, too, is that the responsibility for caring for those with disabilities in the church should not land only on those who live with it (the individuals themselves or the family members who care for him/her). We should all be concerned for one another, regardless of the state of our bodies, because we are all members of the same body, and we all belong to each other.

But I'll be honest. I'm not entirely sure what it looks like for a church to come alongside of people with disabilities. I think it starts with a solid theology of suffering, though, and an understanding that God is good even when difficult things happen in our lives or to our bodies. That's a hard truth to cling to, but I think the more a congregation understands this, the more willing they will be to do the coming alongside thing. And as with any kind of group, really, it starts at the top. Pastors, elders and other church leaders should be setting the example and even consider preaching about it.

What do you think? How can a church come alongside of those with disabilities? Should it? What are some things that might keep people from doing so?

The kinship of disability - part 2

2010-10-26T08:17:00.002-05:00

On to part two of five(ish). And I know I said this was going to be about disability and church. It's not very church-y or God-y yet. I'm getting there.
Read part 1.

A few months ago, I read The Speed of Dark, which is told from the perspective of someone who lives with autism. I learned a few things about autism and was surprised to find I could relate to a lot of it.

I wish I had the book on me so I could pull some more direct quotes, but basically, Lou, the narrator, talks a lot about feeling like his world is made up of two kinds of people – the normals and the not normals. He has some very specific patterns and environments that he prefers (twinkling lights and the whir of a fan) and even needs to help him unwind. He talks about how he goes to the grocery store when it’s quiet because otherwise, when it’s crowded, his brain cannot assimilate the information correctly. It takes him longer to make sense of all the sounds being thrown at him and creates a stressful situation. So it’s just better if he does when it’s quiet.

I know that I sometimes feel like that – like I am not normal but that everyone else is. Sometimes I really need some quiet downtime to de-stress from the overwhelming noise of life. And I definitely go to the grocery store when I know it will be quieter for the same reason! ;) So even though I don't live with autism, I could identify with the character's feelings and perspective.

I'm a firm believer that while there are a variety of experiences across the human spectrum that not all of us get to know, there is a much smaller spectrum for feelings. Even if I can't identify with someone's experience, I've most likely lived with the same emotions in a different situation. I don't know what it is like to be bound to a wheelchair, or depend on a white cane for sight. I have no experience with Down's Syndrome or spina bifida or mental illnesses. But I do know what it is like to be different, to feel like I am missing out on something that "normal" people get to experience, to be on the outside, to wonder why, in a world of 6 billion people, God in His sovereignty brought this on me, and then in the same breath to praise Him for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. I may not get the particulars of what it is like to live daily with a different disability, but emotionally, I've been there.

I also don't think that you have to have a disability to find some way to empathize with the people who do. I think it's less important to understand the disability itself than it is to sympathize emotionally. One doesn't need to have a disability, for instance, to understand loneliness. Or rejection. Or to wonder, "why me?" We would do well to seek common ground rather than stress our differences, methinks. What do you think?

Defining Disability - Part 1

2010-10-25T11:01:00.005-05:00

I have a lofty goal this week, my friends. I've been thinking a lot about hearing loss and disability and how the church can come alongside of people who live with disabilities. I had so many thoughts (um, what else is new?) that I wound up with what would have been a freakishly long post, so I decided to break it up a little. So far I have four parts. Okay, three and a half, but let's just round it up. I'm planning to make it a five-parter, which means I might actually post every. single. day. this week. Which has only been a goal for the last, oh, five months. Procrastinator Extraordinaire, at your service! Also, I don't really have a fancy name for this series, so put your thinking caps on. Ideas. Need. Brain. Hurts. Thanks.

Anyway, here's part 1. It's short, but it's Monday. I didn't want to have to think too much on Monday.

I mentioned some time ago that I tend to view my hearing loss as a disability. I'm hesitant to share that because I have deaf and hard of hearing friends who probably cringe at the term and I certainly don't want to cause a division between us. And I'm hesitant to use the word disability because I feel like there are so many people who have more challenges than I do that claiming a disability, I worry, makes light of their situations.

It is not my intention to divide or belittle with the word "disability." I just take the definition literally. Dis-ability. Which basically means un-ability. And I do not have the ability to hear without assistance. I'm lacking a very specific ability that most people have and it interferes with my life in the sense that I need to work a little harder and utilize outside resources to accomplish regular tasks. In our culture of "everybody is unique," we are slow to use words like "normal," (because how could there possibly be such thing as "normal" if everyone is "special?") but the truth is that wearing hearing aids is not normal. That does not mean that it is unacceptable or weird or gross. It simply means that the vast majority of people do not have to wear hearing aids and I am different for doing so.

So that's what I mean if or when I ever reference hearing loss as a disability. I could also write a whole other post, or series of posts, on how, for me, hearing loss is also more than a disability; it's become part of me. But that's for another day. Or week. What I'm just trying to establish right now are my thoughts on the word "disability." Capisce?

Feel Good Friday - The Nicest Man Ever

2010-10-22T08:58:00.001-05:00

Feel Good Friday is hosted by The Girl Next Door Grows Up. Check out her blog for more Feel Good Fridays!

I love surprises. And I love presents. And I got an awesome surprise present this week from The Nicest Man Ever, as my co-workers and I call him. I mean, what other moniker can we give someone who brings his crockpot to work and makes us a chocolate lava cake before we moved to another floor? Anyway, The Nicest Man Ever is also an accomplished pumpkin carver and we witnessed his fine handiwork on some uh-mazing jack-o-lanterns at last year's Halloween party, which we held for the kids, of course, and where we ate a lot of candy, also for the kids. Naturally.

This year, though, there's no party. No raffle. No candy (sob!). And, I thought, no jack-o-lanterns. Sad day. Until The Nicest Man Ever showed up at my cube this week with a consolation prize:

Erm. Apparently I need to learn how to use a camera. Here it is with the flash on:

(Does anyone else see the irony in the open Bible? Because werewolves are obviously the first thing to leap to mind when I'm thinking about Jesus. Obviously.)

Yes, friends, now you know my dirty little secret. I did read Eclipse. And Twilight. And New Moon. And Breaking Dawn. And yes, I did remember all of those titles off the top of my head. I didn't even have to ask the Google for help, that's how bad it is. And I may or may not have professed allegiance to Team Edward at one point. But you know what, whatever. I won't make fun of your boy wizard if you don't mention my sparkling vampires, mk?

Now that I've come out of the Twilight closet, isn't the jack-o-lantern adorrrrable? I love the detail - especially the "Eclipse" text at the bottom - and am touched by the thought that went into it. There's nothing like the warm fuzzies of knowing someone was thinking of you, is there? I hope you have a The Nicest Man (or Woman) Ever in your life, too!

Happy Friday!

Off.

2010-10-20T20:53:00.005-05:00

I have been feeling off lately. Probably because it is 70 degrees. In October. In case I wasn't clear about that earlier. But really. Off.

After a conversation with someone and reading (e's post about how people respond to hearing loss, I feel compelled to chime in.

I spent most of my life blaming other people for the fact that I was hard of hearing, basically. If I was left out, it was all their fault. Or if I couldn't keep up with the conversation, not my responsibility. Feeling lonely was their doing, not mine.

But in the last few months especially, I really feel the Lord has given me a different perspective on things, including how I relate to people about my hearing loss. I realized that it was unfair of me to hold them accountable if I had not spoken up and shared that part of my life with them. How can I get mad about being excluded if I never told someone that I felt that way? How is it anyone else's responsibility to assuage my loneliness if I didn't tell them I could use a friend? And how can I blame everyone else for talking at lightning speed if I never asked them to slow down?

Yes, sometimes people respond to hearing loss rudely. Other times, they are just silly. But all of the time, they just don't know any better. Is it their fault for not knowing? Or my fault for not teaching?

Hearing loss is my world, but it is not everyone else's world. Most people that I interact with regularly do not deal with it the same way I do. They don't wear hearing aids. They aren't on a first-name basis with their audiologist. They probably don't even have an audiologist. Their sign language is rudimentary and they are shocked! stunned! amazed! at the idea of speech reading. Captions and subtitles are optional for them, not mandatory. Hearing loss is not their world, so how can I hold it against them if they don't respond the way I wish they would?

But that's not to say that I'm on board with giving everyone a free pass. Just because hearing loss may not be a part of someone's world doesn't mean that they can ignore it. And it's hard not to feel like maybe the hearing aids scare people off sometimes. But something else that the last few months have taught me is that people's unwillingness is not always related to my hearing loss. Sometimes it is them. They are shy. Or they build walls. Or they are just busy. Or sometimes, even, the problems is me, doing the exact same things. So I understand now that my hearing aids aren't always the things keeping me from building the relationships that I'd like to build.

Maybe I need to examine myself first and see where I've gone wrong before I go around casting blame and breeding frustration.

Medley

2010-10-18T10:31:00.001-05:00

I babysit some Monday nights. One of the kids is 6 and wears hearing aids, like I do. But after talking to her and her mom, I discovered that her hearing loss is mild. She can go without her hearing aids and responds fairly well when I give her instructions - even when she is not facing me to read lips. I have a friend who lost her hearing after her daughter went to college. She's tried learning sign language and to speech read, but it's been a struggle.

Hearing loss isn't a one-size-fits-all kind of deal. The level of hearing loss (mild, moderate or profound), how old someone was when they lost their hearing, whether they were the only deaf/hard of hearing person in their family or not, how much support they've had in their hearing loss journey, - there are so many factors that make hearing loss unique for each person who lives with it. Some wear cochlear implants, some wear hearing aids and still others find neither of those to be viable options. Some people prefer to sign, others to voice for themselves. Some are good speech readers and others not so much.

I always appreciate it when someone asks me how they can best communicate with me. For reasons I've never understood myself, I get uncomfortable when someone I don't know tries to sign to me. I guess I don't like the assumption that just because I wear hearing aids, I must not be capable of speech. I'm not sure every single person I run into really thinks that and hello, we've established that I am She Who Thinks Too Much, so it's entirely possible that I over analyze it when someone shows me that they know the phrase "thank you" in sign language. Buuuuut still. I'd rather someone ask me how I prefer to communicate rather than offer a solution that might not fit my needs or personality.

And now I'm finding the road goes both ways. For a long time, I was the only hard of hearing person I knew. But now that I'm spending more time with other deaf and hard of hearing people, I'm convicted about my own need to accommodate others. Isn't that funny? All these years, I've been thinking about what I need other people to do in order to accommodate me that I forget there are things that I can do to make communication easier for others. For example, I want to be a more natural and comfortable signer just because there are now some people in my life for whom signing is their primary mode of communication. I also need to do a better job of remembering the simplest things like turning so that someone can see my face or not obstructing their view of whoever is speaking. Things I want to educate people to do but fail to remember myself (Oh hey, hypocrisy, how are you?). Guess I still have a lot to learn myself! ;)

Clearing the (mental) decks

2010-10-14T20:57:00.004-05:00

Ugh. Writing is hard. Can I just say that? It's not just coming up with words, but organizing thoughts. Expressing feelings. Sorting through ideas. Let me tell you, that is a monumental task for dreamers like me. I think in metaphors and feel in pictures. Trying to capture all of that with mere words is like trying to catch a cloud and pin it down (name that movie reference!). But it is a good kind of hard. The stretching kind. The say what you mean kind. The makes you think for real this time kind.

But it is tiring. So here are some of the more frivilous thoughts I've entertained lately.

I am having a battle with a single strand of white hair that insists on protruding from my scalp. Now, I'm not afraid of going gray or white or whatever. A woman's glory is her hair, yeah? And I'll wear my white tresses like a crown. But not now. How can I, three years shy of 30, possibly have earned that white hair? I feel like I need to have a few decades of fruitful labor behind me before I'm allowed to join the club. Begone, white hair. Be. Gone. You may come back in 20 years. Or 50.

Where is fall? Well? Where is it? The weather is nice and all... for August. But it's October and I have bug bites. And I want to wear flip flops. Okay, bug bites, flip flops and October. Which of these things is not like the others? I'll give you a hint. It starts with "O" and ends in "ber." As in BBBRRRRR. I want my sweaters and thick socks and warm blankets and crisp apples and steaming mugs and general coziness to ensue. My one hope - knock on wood, cross my fingers and say a prayer - is that mild fall = mild winter. Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease. I like being chilly but I don't like freezing. Or driving in the snow. Or on ice. Though at the rate we're going, we'll just end up having a winter-long fall season. I could get on board with that.

I guess this one isn't terribly frivolous, but contemplative. I was looking through some old (well, by old, I mean three years ago) pictures on Facebook (isn't that weird to say? I bet our mothers never imagined a day when the word "Facebook" would replace "photo album.") and I was struck by how much things have changed in three years. So much. I go to a different church. I live somewhere else. I work somewhere else. I drive a different car. I have a new family member. I do different things with my spare time, when I have it. Back then, I had oodles and oodles of spare time and not in a good way. Three years seems like a long time. Five years seems like a lifetime ago. And I still maintain I'm not old, despite what my white hair is trying to tell me. But I'm feeling more keenly the passage of time and I know it only goes faster as I get older. That makes me a little nervous. And a little excited, because I have only the faintest glimmer of what's ahead. But it will be grand. So, so grand.

I have a question for you. Yeah, you. Not the person next to you or five cities away. You. Y'know how I tried doing that What Would You Ask thing? I'm wondering now, what would you say? Instead of me feeding you information about hearing loss, what do you want someone with hearing loss to know? Maybe you're a friend of someone who wears hearing aids or you are raising them or you have to talk a little louder to your grandma. Or maybe you've been living with hearing loss for a long time and have some wisdom to impart. I don't know ~~anything~~ everything. I have things to learn and I'm in the mood to listen. So spill it and I'll share it. You'll be famous. To all three of my readers, anyway.

I'm going to bed now. Because I am old. Let's just call it what it is.

Impromptu

2010-10-13T21:22:00.005-05:00

Just a little housekeeping here. I've been thinking that maybe the What Would You Ask feature has been getting a little annoying. So I'm moving it to once a month-ish. Or when I remember to do it. If I remember. Whichever comes first. Kthanxbye.

Dear blog, I've missed you. To be more particular, I miss pounding out thoughts by tapping a series of keys on my computer. Writing, friends. I finally came to accept that it's one of my things. But just one of them. When I write, write, write, what that really means is that I am talking, talking, talking. I fill white spaces (both online and in my head) with words and sentences and misplaced modifiers. Oh yes. There is a lot of talk going on from me to "out there." It is good. I am, at last, finding my voice.

But I forget that listening, it's one of my things too. It was my thing before writing and talking and saying and sharing was. So I prayed for opportunities to listen. And when you pray, friends, God delivers. I listened to stories this week, about faraway lands and new love. Of broken dreams and sleepiness. Of plumbing the depths of God and never coming up empty. What sweet things to get to listen to. To share in and be a part of. Thank you for telling me your stories. Thank You, Lord, for the loveliness of listening.

And how are you?

The unofficial major

2010-10-10T18:41:00.002-05:00

I was an English major in college. Sometimes I still act like one. I was also a psych minor. It feels very important to mention that I have 18 whole hours of psychology under my belt, putting me a mere 43 credit hours away from a degree that actually matters. But I also like to tell people I was an unofficial journalism major. Just for fun.

When I started out at college, I rolled my eyes when I discovered that writing for the campus yearbook and newspaper were requirements for my degree. I really did not want to work on the newspaper. I thought it would be too fast-paced and political and stressful and boring. My plan was to do whatever I had to do to get the credits I needed as quickly as possible, then focus my energies on the yearbook, which, I thought, promised boatloads of learning experience and fun.

Haha. That's a funny story to share with my fellow English major friends. We laugh at the irony. Because what happened, friends, was quite the opposite. I took the newspaper course because I had to and by the time I graduated, I was managing editor. I didn't mind yearbook, but I just found newspaper to be more interesting after all. I liked seeing my name in print - and often - and as it turns out, I work well under a deadline. With the yearbook, we wouldn't see the fruits of our labors until the end of the year and it was hard to motivate myself to write something I wouldn't see for a while.

Oh, the memories we made on the newspaper staff. Late nights. Quizno's runs. Inside jokes. Red ink everywhere (my friend A and I were not shy with our copy editing chops. Not even a little bit). We dealt with plagiarism, deadlines and scandals. When our school was added to Facebook's list of networks, it made the front page. I'm not saying we were the sharpest journalists all the time, but we had fun with it regardless. Leaving the paper was probably the hardest part for me about graduating.

When I went to college, I really thought I would end up as a book or magazine editor. By the time I left, I was seriously considering a career as a journalist. But out in the real world, I didn't do as well. I freelanced for a couple of local papers, but it just wasn't the same. I worried about misunderstanding information and writing the wrong article. I stressed over deadlines and found my little pile of money dwindling as I poured it into my gas tank so I could drive all over town pursuing stories. Even though I never stopped loving words or writing them, journalism - the hardcore, breaking news, scandal-exposing, following-up-with-leads kind - wasn't quite for me. Instead, I found a job at a publishing company and now I prepare comics pages for newspapers around the country. Not exactly the hard-hitting journalism I had envisioned, but I'm okay with it.

Sometimes in my cushy comics job, I forget what it was like - the thrill of getting a story, the particular joy that comes from seeing your byline. Some might call that narcissistic, but writers write to be read, no? It's what we do and having a byline just validates a passion. I visited a newspaper office a few weeks ago. It was old and lovely and crumbling and full of history. As I followed my guide past a maze of gray cubes, through dilapidated hallways and over worn tile, I inhaled the mustiness. It's a particular smell, one that can only come from history, deadlines, ink and passion. It smells like journalism, I thought. And I smiled.

Got a question? I'd still like to know what you'd like to know, you know? This may or may not also be a shameless plug for comments. Either way, I'd love to hear from you!

Feel Good Friday: Five Things

2010-10-08T09:44:00.016-05:00

Feel Good Friday is hosted by The Girl Next Door Grows Up. Check out her blog for more Feel Good Fridays!

Some lovely things lately:

1) Open captions are back at AMC! I have not seen a movie in an AMC theater for what feels like a few years now. That is most likely an exaggeration because I tend toward the dramatic, but I will say it's been at least a couple of years. Not counting that one showing of See What I'm Saying. I'm also happy that HLAA played a role in bring captions back - you can read more about it at HLAA-KC's blog or on my friend Shanna's blog. Shanna and Teri worked hard to make this happen - GO LADIES! ;-) AMC is currently showing Nanny McPhee Returns and I am all over it, friends. Yes, I know, it's a kids' movie but whatevs. I think it's important to support AMC and thank them for their efforts. Plus kids' movies can be so charming. They are good for encouraging creativity and imagination for both little ones and old. ;-)

2) I started reading a really good book this week. It takes an honest look at the Bible and the author uses beautiful language to really engage my wonder for the Lord. I think that is something that has been lost lately, at least in my head. I get so wrapped up in theological discourse that I forget to just step back and marvel at God. To be astonished by His artistry and grace. To find Him and all he does breathtaking. I highly recommend this book:

Not even joking. It's lovely. I started reading it to my friend's daughters the other night, then I kept reading it while she put them to bed. It's just such a sweet perspective to see things through a child's eyes. Love!

3) Last weekend, on the way to the conference, we drove by Story City, IA. There was a billboard on the side of the road beckoning us to ride their antique carousel. Oh, how I wish we could have stopped. If I lived in Story City, I would totally take up residence in a gingerbread house at the corner of Cherry St. and Gumdrop Lane. My trusty carousel horse would get me to work every day at Toyland, Inc., and I wouldn't talk anymore. Oh no, everything I would have to say would just have to be delivered by way of song and dance. Obviously. (And now I have a sudden hankering to watch Mary Poppins. Hellooooo, plan for the weekend!)

4) Okay, on to more grown-up things. I had lunch with my co-workers today. And we got Chipotle, so really, I am cheating here by listing two lovely things. And they might sound trivial, but it has been a while since we all (well, we were missing one, so okay, most) sat down and had lunch together. Isn't it funny how something as simple as discussing which plastic forks we prefer (the office's or Chipotle's?) or how we eat our food can just make you feel like you belong? I'm blessed, too, to work with people I can also call friends. Not many folks get to say that. And when you add Chipotle to the mix, it just makes everything sweeter. Srsly. If I was 12, I would totally be doodling "I <3 Chipotle" and "Chipotle + Lucy 4 EVER" in my Lisa Frank notebooks.

5) I love watching people take communion at church. The way it's set up is that there are two servers at each station, one with the bread and one with the grape juice. People line up to tear a piece of bread off and dip it in the cup. You just go up when you feel led. I usually wait til the end so I ~~don't have to stand in line~~ can pray and reflect on the Lord before partaking. One Sunday, George and Mary (totally not their real names) went up, tore the bread, dipped it in the cup and walked over to a corner to pray together before taking the bread. As they walked to the corner, George pulled his hat off and wrapped his arm around Mary before leading them in prayer. It was such a simple gesture and one that was being repeated throughout the sanctuary (and one I had witnessed many times before), but it just struck me that day how beautiful and symbolic of Christ it was. His protective covering over us, His speaking for us before the throne. They bowed their heads to pray and I knew they were standing before the Lord as children, broken and in need of grace, as we all are. I teared up because it was so right and so good. And so often, I tend to think of how marriage could be beneficial to me here on this earth, but watching George and Mary together, as one before God, opened my eyes to how beautiful marriage is because of who God is. What a picture it is of Christ and the Church. I don't know if the Lord has marriage in mind for me and if He didn't, that would be okay. There are joys to be had and lessons to be learned in being single that can't happen when you're married. But if He does have marriage in mind for me, I hope I will see it for what it is - a gift from God to be treasured, a daily reminder of His relationship to His people, a sweet evidence of His grace. George and Mary's communion scene took mere seconds to unfold, but oh, what a sweet, eternal moment.

Happy Friday, friends!

What Would You Ask: Lectures and Sermons

2010-10-05T19:30:00.004-05:00

Last week, Suz asked:

"[H]ow do public speaking forums work best for you (aka. lectures, sermons, etc.)?"

Um, seriously, are you people stalking me? In the hiding-in-my-closet-and-spying-on-me-way, not the I'm-following-your-blog way. Yet another timely question, as I just got back from the Desiring God conference in Minneapolis this weekend, which provides the perfect backdrop for this particular query.

One of the things I really love about Desiring God is their no-holds-barred approach to ministry. They have a "whatever you can afford policy" on their resource items and have faithfully provided accommodations at their conferences. They're pretty good about supplying transcripts of online audio or video and they're faithful to translate their library into other languages so that all people might learn about God. This year's conference was no exception. They offered ASL (American Sign Language) interpreters in addition to Spanish and Russian translators. They don't let anything keep them from sharing the Gospel.

I was really thankful to have the interpreters because even though I was sitting in the front row and the speakers' faces were projected on a large screen behind them, it was still difficult to lip read. They moved around a lot or were just a little too far away to catch. And I tried, but there was just something about lip reading on the screen that was difficult. I'm not sure what it was... maybe I rely on body language to help facilitate communication more than I realize and the way the camera was positioned, we mostly only saw the speaker's face on the screen. So because my primary mode of communication - lip reading - was weakened, I was thankful to have the interpreters for help.

However, I was reminded once again how much English, and not ASL, is my first language. I felt like I could mostly keep up with the concept of each session, but the Wordie (oh there I go making up words again) in me really wanted to know exactly what each person was saying. For example, when Al Mohler was talking, he kept using the word "unregenerated" to refer to those who do not know Christ. But the interpreters would use the sign for "non-Christian." The concept is the same, but the nuances were not. "Unregenerated" brings to mind the powerful work of the Holy Spirit and illustrates the lifelessness of the soul apart from God. "Non-Christian," on the other hand, connotes someone who just doesn't go to church or ignores God. Yes, the two words are technically the same, but one brings more depth to the table than the other.

So don't get me wrong. I'm so thankful I even had the option of ASL interpretation because without it, I really would not have gotten anything out of the conference. I think in that environment, I would have benefited more from captioning and as God would have it, I had an opportunity to make the case for it.

On Sunday morning, I decided to head to the exhibit hall to see if I could talk to a Resurgence representative about getting their online videos subtitled. I was disappointed to find out that no one was manning that booth, so I just wandered around for a little bit and read my Bible for a few minutes. Then I decided it was about time to go and find my seat for the last session. As I got up, I saw Scott Anderson, the conference coordinator, walking across the hall. I had the fleeting thought that I should thank him for the interpreters, and I would have talked myself out of it if I had listened to my inner wimp. Instead, I found my feet propelling me in his direction and before I could stop myself, I heard my mouth greeting him and explaining who I was. I thanked him for being considerate of the needs of the deaf and hard of hearing attendees and how much I appreciated Desiring God's faithfulness to come alongside of those of us who just need a little extra help.

And then I did it. I asked him, "I was just wondering, would you be willing to consider offering captioning at future events?" I explained what captioning was and how it worked and what my experience with it has been like. You guys, he took his notebook out and started taking notes! He was so kind and listened intently to everything I explained and really seemed interested when I clarified that not all deaf/hard of hearing people benefit from the same accommodations. I also explained that it's not just deaf/hard of hearing people who benefit from captioning, but people who are learning English as a second language or even people who are visual learners. He said he'd been wanting to do something like that for a while but didn't quite know how to go about it. He gave me his card and asked me to email him to continue the discussion! I was so thankful for - and humbled by - his attention; even though he was a busy, busy man that weekend, he talked to me like he had all the time in the world. Isn't that just so like the Lord?

So yeah, I know that story doesn't have a lot to do with the original question but I thought it was too sweet not to share. :) So anyway, back to business. In that situation, captioning would have helped and I am considering bringing it up for church. Right now, I sit near the front row and lipread the best I can. I think that I generally get enough out of the sermon to be able to discuss it with other people, but I miss a lot of the jokes and I know I'm not getting every single thing the pastor says. He talks fast. He moves around the stage a lot. So I wonder if captioning might enhance the experience for me. I'm hesitant to use an interpreter because I don't like drawing attention to myself that way. And yes, I'm that vain. ;) Plus most interpreters will use ASL and we've already established that that's sometimes not the best solution.

Now, I did have sign language interpreters when I was in college and I will say that in some situations, I feel more comfortable with an interpreter than with captioning. My interpreters, knowing my penchant for English, modified the way they signed so that they were using ASL vocabulary but with English grammar. And a good interpreter works with their client(s) to deliver the information in a way that best fits the client's needs. I had good interpreters.

Anyway, if I'm part of a classroom or some kind of setting that requires listening to one speaker and then going over discussion questions with the people sitting near me (church people - think midsize group/Explore-type settings), an interpreter is a good fit (although, again, I'm too vain to ask for one. Thereisaidit). With captioning, the person typing can only hear whoever is speaking into a special microphone, so if several people are talking at once or taking turns talking, it's cumbersome to pass the mic around. An interpreter can (in my opinion) more easily relay that kind of information and also convey expression. My interpreters could tell me if the professor sounded mad or if another student was confused. I can't always tell tone, so it was helpful when the interpreter would explain the mood and not just the words to me.

I've also had friends take notes for me, which was really helpful. It's hard - not impossible, but hard - to take notes and watch an interpreter at the same time. ;) And I have put myself in classroom-type settings without any accommodations before. I just lipread the best I can and I have friends who, without being asked, will jump in and start writing a summary of what's going on. They're kind like that.

Mk, friends, your turn. Whaddyawannaknow?

What Would You Ask: Music

2010-09-29T22:40:00.001-05:00

Last week, Deanna asked:

"How do you hear/perceive music? Can you tell when music is out of tune or pleasant? Care to elaborate about your musical experiences?"

And a timely question, too, my dear, as I already had a draft written about music. Well played. Well played, indeed.

Questions about music and "how much can you hear" are tricky ones to answer. When someone asks how much I can hear, what they usually mean is, "How much can you hear compared to what I can hear?" If I don't know how hearing people hear, I'm not sure how to compare what I hear to what they hear, you hear?

giggle. I'm really so easily amused.

Ahem. Back to music. For most of my life, I cared more about the lyrics than the melody so I tended to listen to pretty mellow music where the instruments didn't drown out the song. Even then, it was a task. Back in the olden days, when people still bought CDs and owned CD players so they could rock out while they built Stonehenge, I would pop a CD in and open the little booklet it came with and read along with the music. I would count and memorize beats to keep me on track and I even used to count the seconds from the time the CD switched to a new track to the time the first word was sung.

Now I listen to music via the newfangled internets (iTunes and even YouTube) and I ask the Google(yes, I just said "the Google." I'm trying to make it catch on. Embrace it) for lyrics. I can usually read along pretty well but the printed lyrics don't always tell you everything, like maybe that they sing the chorus twice, not once, before the bridge, or that the first stanza is repeated at the end of the song. With YouTube, the only words on the screen are the ones being sung at that moment so I know what's going on. So it takes me a while to get to the point where I can listen to something without needing the read the lyrics... something as simple as learning a new song can be time-consuming

So while everyone else was rocking out to their Walkmans (Walk-what, now? my younger readers are asking. It's what the dinosaurs used before iPods came along), I was buried in books instead. Oh, and even with the volume set at its highest, I couldn't really hear the music through the headphones (head-what, now? It's what cavemen used before earbuds), so I was never into the mobile music scene. I also prefer male singers over female because the deeper voices are easier to understand. The ladies' voices are higher and seem to blend with the music in such a way that it's hard for me to separate the lyrics from the melody.

It's only been in recent years that I've really allowed myself to listen to the nuances of instrumental music, or instrumental interludes in songs. I can hear it and I can get caught up in whatever emotion it's trying to convey. I know when it's a powerful piece, or somber, or light, or cheerful. But I have to really be concentrating, otherwise it will just blur into frustrating background noise. I would guess, too, that I don't hear it as clearly or as sharply as hearing people do, but that doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good performance.

I'm not sure how well I do at nothing whether or not something is out of tune. Do you guys remember The Little Rascals, when Alfalfa is singing to Darla in the beginning and his voice cracks? Every time I watched it with my friends, they would laugh because he sounded funny but I couldn't really tell that he wasn't singing well. But then the few times I've watched American Idol, I can usually tell the bad singers from the good ones and sometimes even the just okay singers from the better ones.

My friend Kelly wrote about her experiences with listening to music and while I was never a JT fan like she is ;), I can relate to how she appreciates music and the roles it has played in her life. Check her out or I will send the Google after you.

Mk, kids, it's your turn now. What do you want to know about hearing loss?

Paging Dr. Carter

2010-09-27T21:34:00.007-05:00

(photo credit)

Okay, there's not really any Dr. Carter involved in this post, but I think that generally, Noah Wyle just makes things better. Why yes, I did blubber like a teenage girl when ER ended, why do you ask?

So I went to the dentist last week and I honestly don’t know whether I should laugh or cry. They used the word “cavities” a lot. And also “cost” and “insurance.” Thumbs. Down. But the most hilariously sad thing was the dental assistant. Dental hygienist? Tooth lady? I don’t know. Anyway, this is not the dentist’s office I normally go to. Why, you ask? Well, that is a fantastic question and I will tell you that the dentist I grew up going to was still asking me, at 22 years old, how school was going (I graduated) and would keep talking to me with the mask on (I’d been going to him for like 20 years. The man knows I can’t understand him with his mouth covered). So I decided it was time to move on.

I had such high hopes for New Dentist. He had an email form on his website, which meant I didn’t have to use the dang phone to make an appointment. WIN. He was recommended by my boss, so I’m pretty sure it’s insurance compatible. WIN. He actually took his mask off to talk to me and made sure I could see him. WIN. WIN. WIN.

But before I saw him, I met Tooth Lady (I know, that’s such a disrespectful term. But it makes me giggle so we’re going with it, uh-kay?). Tooth Lady did her Tooth Lady thing and scraped and x-rayed and polished my not-that-pearly-but-okay whites. And she would not stop talking to me when she was out of my line of vision or with her mask on. And I told her so. many. times. that I was hard of hearing and needed to see her when she talked. Clearly, she was not getting that memo. She would give me instructions with her mask on and I would say, “I’m sorry, I need to see your mouth so I can lipread.” She would move the mask like, a hair south, and keep talking. “I’m really sorry,” I’d repeat, “but I can’t see your lips.” Another nudge and oh wait is that the shadow of her top lip? Glory be, we’re making progress! I’d try one more time, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I really cannot see you!” You guys, I was like two steps away from reaching up and pulling the dang mask off myself! Then she’d finally remove it and we did this little dance not once but at least two or three times the whole visit. Maybe I should have started signing to her and evened the playing field!

Healthcare professionals are sometimes among the most frustrating when it comes to communication. Maybe I just expect too much out of them. I tend to think that because (in my opinion) hearing loss is a medical issue that doctors, nurses and other professionals should be best equipped to communicate with deaf or hard of hearing patients. It's not the most airtight logic, I know (I mean, I don't expect my dentist to tell me what's wrong with my lungs, or an allergist to know all about brain injuries, so no, not every healthcare professional is going to know about hearing loss), but I do have higher expectations for them. I really shouldn't, though, not when even audiologists could use a refresher course! I've had audiologists who would talk to me with their back turned or when they knew my hearing aids were out. These are professionals who have my audiogram (hearing test results) in front of them, work at least 40 hours a week with people who wear hearing aids and stay abreast of the latest hearing technology... but even they forget (or just flat out don't know) how to talk to their patients. So how can I expect professionals in other healthcare-related fields to stay on top of communication?

I don't normally ask for an interpreter or any other assistance when I go to the doctor because most of the time, they're routine appointments and they're nothing I can't handle on my own. But over the last year and a half or so, I've found myself in more situations where I wish I had requested an interpreter. I kind of wish I had had one with me in the dentist's office that day. I've had other appointments where I didn't realize until I left that I hadn't gotten quite all of the information - luckily it was never a life-or-death situation, but still, when it's my health on the line, I'd like to make sure I know exactly what's going on.

Answer and a question

2010-09-23T12:03:00.001-05:00

Okay, back to regularly scheduled programming. A while ago, I posed a question to the big, vast internets:

If you could sit down with a deaf or hard of hearing person and ask any question without worrying about if it was offensive or silly, what would you ask?

Joey had two questions. I answered one last week about remembering what it was like to hear and now I'm on to the second part:

"Would you consider an implant or stem cell therapy to improve your hearing?"

The short version? Yes on the implant, probably not on the stem cell. I don't want my blog to get crazy political. I don't mind touching on politics once in a while, but for the most part, I'd like to steer clear of hot button topics. So I'll just say that for personal and political reasons, I'm not sure I would feel comfortable with stem cell therapy.

I have thought about getting a cochlear implant and I'm open to it if or when my hearing reaches the point where hearing aids are no longer helpful. But right now, honestly, I'm intimidated. And chicken. There, I said it. It's an invasive procedure that involves drilling into my head (I'm fighting off a little bit of vomit as I type that!), and could take several years of rehabilitation to get the full use out of it.

I also am doing well with my hearing aids. I wear two digital BTEs (behind the ear) that have four or five different settings to help me better filter background noise and help me hear what I want to hear. Why mess with what works, you know? And on that note, I've worn hearing aids almost my whole life. I could also just be feeling a little nervous about making such a big change. I know my hearing aids; how to care for them, when it's time for new ear molds, what kind of batteries to buy. I know I would learn those kinds of things too with a cochlear implant, but for now, I'm just attached to my hearing aids. They're familiar.

Having said that, I have friends who have cochlear implants and I've never once heard any one of them complain about it. My qualms about getting an implant stem more from my fears of the surgery than of the results. I have no doubt that a cochlear implant would help me and that the benefits far outweigh the initial inconvenience. Also, I'm not under any illusions. I took a hearing test a couple of years ago (and the one before that was 10 years ago!) that indicated I had lost 10 percent of my hearing in the last 10 years. We're not sure how progressive the hearing loss is, but I foresee entering my twilight years beyond the help of hearing aids - if my hearing can make it that long. I'm okay with the idea of a cochlear implant... someday. Not so much today. ;)

Okay, big, vast internets, your turn. Like I said a few weeks ago, one of the reasons I blog is to educate people about hearing loss, but sometimes I overlook things that seem obvious to me because I'm so used to it. So I'm curious, if you could ask a deaf or hard of hearing person anything, what would it be?

And by the way, I recently discovered how to find the stats for my blog and here is what I've learned:

This week, I've had 211 visitors from the United States, three from Spain and one from Finland. I've had 776 page views in the last month. Readers find my blog via other blogs, Google, The City, Twitter and Facebook.

I don't say any of that to brag, but rather to let you people know I am on to you.

Won't you come out and say hi?

I knew it was important

2010-09-22T18:02:00.003-05:00

I know, I know. I said things like "What would you ask Wednesdays," and here it's Wednesday and I'm contemplating a "What would you ask Thursday." Roll with me, people. I was totally going to answer Joey's question from a few weeks ago, but then I looked at the calendar. I'd been feeling all day like there was something important about September 22 but I couldn't put my finger on it.

Then the internet came to the rescue, per usual. I've been following Molly Piper's blog for a while now and while I don't know her personally, I've been so touched over the years to read her stories. Molly is Abraham Piper's wife, and Abraham is John Piper's son, and I read John Piper's stuff... so yeah, I mean, Molly and I are clearly just two steps away from being BFF's. Clearly.

But September 22 is a big date for her. Her baby girl, Felicity, was stillborn that day three years ago. Molly has written a lovely tribute over on her blog and even though I've never even been pregnant, I've still been so edified by the experiences she shares of grieving and leaning on the Lord and trusting Him even when it's difficult.

And today is the first ("official") day of fall. This means coziness and bonfires and honeycrisp apples and crunch leaves. And no more daily bullying from the sun. I hope. Also, six years ago, Lost premiered, so see, I was right. September 22 is a very important day, indeed!

Here's some trivia that you probably won't care about but that makes me laugh (at myself). When ABC first started promoting Lost, I remember scoffing at the TV and rolling my eyes. I mean, really, how long could they be lost on an island before people got bored of the whole thing? Srsly, it was doomed to fail as far as I was concerned. And now? Now, my friends, I am just one DVD set away from owning the whole series. The only reason I've held out this long is that Christmas is coming up. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Happy September 22, all!

Mystery

2010-09-19T18:34:00.002-05:00

Theology is a hard thing for me to talk about sometimes. Partly because I feel inadequate to discuss it. And partly because I know my theology is flawed. I'm not sure anyone has a perfect theology, but I just don't like to be wrong. ;)

As far as my theological beliefs, the Reformed tradition sums it up well. Calvinist. Sovereignty. Glory. Suffering. Community. These are the buzzwords of Reformed theology today. John Piper, Mark Driscoll and Matt Chandler are its spokespersons. Throw in other names like Challies, Keller or Carson and you will be up to speed on Reformed-speak.

One of the defining characteristics of Reformed theology is its intellect. We, the "young, restless and reformed" crowd, tend to elevate thinking about God and talking about God and refining our doctrine and explaining what we believe. Logic, reason and (usually) literal interpretation are the norm. But, I fear, we start worshiping the system. I have noticed this about myself. I become very concerned about whether or not what I am thinking or feeling or pondering or concluding is right. Do I trust in God's sovereignty enough? Am I doing community the right way? If I forget to end my prayer with "for the glory of God," am I going to hell?

That's not faith. That is clinging to works, to thoughts instead of God. It is easy, in the Reformed tradition of intellect, to overthink things (Maybe that is why I feel so comfortable among Reformed peers... I am an overthinker! ;)). To somehow lose God in the process.

I'm going to link to two other blogs now. You might find it ironic, especially if you're not Reformed, that I'm linking to Reformed blogs that talk about this very thing. We're an ironic species, we humans. Just go with it.

I've always appreciated John Piper. In the midst of some very frustrating and dark times in my life, it was Piper's sermons that the Lord used to draw me to Himself again. Certainly I struggle with elevating Piper to God-like proportions. I jokingly call myself a Piper-ette. Which is exactly the point I'm trying to make - the battle of intellect vs. the Person of God. But anyway, I appreciated what he had to say in a recent Ask Pastor John segment. John Piper's Caution for the New Reformed movement

Then I read this gem from The Resurgence today. Pretty much the same point, but a little more expansive.

I'm getting a headache from thinking. Certainly thinking has its place in Christianity. In doctrine, theology and daily living. God is the Great Thinker and if we are made in His image, we were made to consider, reason and ponder. But to do it apart from the heart of God is meaningless. I'm a very emotional person. So emotional that I just do not trust myself very much. I make a lot of decisions based on how I'm feeling that get me nowhere at best or prove disastrous at worst. So in order to counter the dangerous effects of emotions, I tend to stifle them. I shove them out of the way where they can't be a distraction and try to silence the pangs clamoring for my attention. There can be a time and place for that. But to do it all the time is, I think, dishonoring to the Lord. We're called to "love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." It is okay to have an emotional walk with God, or an emotional spiritual experience. To be overflowing with passion or gratitude or love or tears or pain. To really feel it.

Along those lines, I think that is why imagination is important. We've been going through the book of Colossians at church and the concept of mystery in relation to God has come up a couple times. Particularly Colossians 1:26-28 - "[T]he mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ." It's not mystery like God is withholding something from us unfairly, but that He is so incredible and vast that there are just some things we'll never quite be able to wrap our heads around. Or that won't be made known to us apart from His timing. But I like that there is mystery. That we won't ever get tired of plumbing the depths of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God. That there is always something to explored, some new perspective to gain, new mercies to be realized. That there is room for wonder and excitement among logic and reason.

Memories

2010-09-15T20:52:00.002-05:00

A few days ago, I wondered what you were wondering. What would you ask someone about hearing loss if you didn't have to worry about sounding silly or being offensive (I find those are the biggest reasons people don't ask questions)? I'm toying with the idea of starting a regular feature... let's call it What Would You Ask Wednesdays just for fun. It's lame, I know. Go with it.

Joey had two questions, so I figured I'd answer one today and one next week.

First up is, "Do you remember being able to hear?"

Kind of. I vaguely remember watching TV without the captions on. I remember one time my grandma called our house and sang me a song over the phone. I don't remember the words, but I remember hearing and understanding her through the phone.

Aside from those two memories, all I've ever known is being hard of hearing. I remember being fitted for a hearing aid for the first time, but I don't recall actually losing my hearing. It just was what it was. In my short life, I had no idea what "normal" was, so as far as I knew, this was normal for me. I did what my parents and the doctors and the audiologists told me to do. I figured they had everything under control because I was four and they were like, THIRTY (which, of course, is like 90 to a toddler!), so I was confident that everyone was taking good care of the situation.

When I was a little older, maybe seven or so, I started dreaming of the day when I wouldn't have to wear hearing aids. I was pretty sure it would happen by the time I was 14. Kind of a random number, but it must have held some kind of significance in my little girl mind! ;) Even then, I could tell I was "different," and I didn't like it. Honestly, some days are still like that, but now they're mixed with more days where I'm okay with it.

Hope that answers your question, Joey! Thanks for asking!

Anything you want to know?

Understanding

2010-09-13T18:25:00.001-05:00

So often people will ask me if I "heard" something. Did you hear that noise? Can you hear the TV? I used to say yes, because I could, in fact, literally "hear" what they were talking about. The sound traveled to my hearing aids and somehow to the part of my brain that understands there was a noise.

But hearing is not the same as understanding. I can hear that noise, but I can't identify its origin. I can hear the TV playing, but I cannot attach words and phrases to the din. My hearing aids help me hear, but I need more than a hearing aid (lipreading, an interpreter, captioning, etc) to help me understand.

I have pretty poor speech recognition; that is, I cannot really understand much unless I am facing the speaker and lipreading or listening to something or someone (like a song or someone reading from a book) and reading along with it. I can't understand something by hearing alone, I need some kind of visual cue to go along with it.

So while I'm flattered when people are impressed that I "do so well" communicating, I'm also a little frustrated because what they don't see is how hard I work to do so well - and they don't know all the times I am faking it! And I wonder sometimes if they think I must not need very much help because I "do so well."

I feel like I'm constantly walking a fine line with hearing loss. On one hand, I feel like I have to prove that it really does disrupt my life and change experiences for me; on the other hand, I have to prove that I am still capable of doing things, like carrying on a conversation in a crowded restaurant, for example, even if it means I have to work a little harder. I'm both more and less capable than I let on.

Have you ever felt like that? What was it like?

Hard to love and ugly

2010-09-12T21:58:00.004-05:00

I am pretty sure that my pastors must have some kind of microchip implanted in my brain. How else could they deliver a sermon every single Sunday that sounds like a page from my life? They are up to something. I just know it. ;)

Our church is going through the book of Colossians and today was Colossians 3:5-6.

Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming.

The pastor talked a lot about how if Jesus is our only hope, then our actions should follow suit. His biggest fear, he says, is that we will think that behavior modification is the path to salvation. That if we just do this thing or don't do that other thing, but don't deal with the heart issue, that everything will just be hunky-dory. Then he said something like, "There are so many people here who have been sweet and nice and quiet in the church and they stay under the radar. They are leaving sins in their hearts unchecked because they think they've cleaned up their outside but not their inside and no one ever noticed them enough to speak into their lives about their heart issues."

It was at that point that I considered having my place swept for bugs. I just know they're listening in on me. Do you hear me, pastors? I am on to you.

I've always known that I'm a sinner and I need a Savior and Jesus is the only way to Heaven. But I've never fully realized my tendency to blame others when things go wrong, or when I'm sad, or when life is overwhelming. For example, I've been indulging lately in feeling lonely. This inevitably leads to feeling angry and bitter. Clearly, this is everyone else's fault because they don't reach out to me even though I try to be more engaging. Shame on them for failing. And this is also not something I signed up for, but my hearing loss forces me away from people and makes communication harder to achieve. So really, it is not my fault that I get mad or frustrated - if I wasn't hard of hearing, I wouldn't be this way. So obviously, it's not my fault that my actions haven't been lining up with the person God has called me to be. Obviously.

Then I did that thinking thing. Ugh. It always gets me into all sorts of trouble. I thought. And I pondered. I toyed with the idea... "What if it's not them? What if it's me? What if I have particular sins that drive people away? What if I am not as marvelous and wonderful and delightful as I think I am? What if I am not a victim but an instigator?"

I've always been that fly-under-the-radar kind of person. I'm nice and helpful and bend over backwards for people. But I don't let people get too close. I'm open, but not vulnerable. I'm the shoulder to cry on but I won't lean on yours. On top of that, I'm pushy, nosy and demanding. I'm a know-it-all and think highly of myself. My soul is so riddled with pride, criticism and self-righteousness. My problem isn't other people and what they've done or not done to me. My problem isn't that I live with a profound hearing loss and all that that entails. My biggest problem is that I'm a sinner, that there is something inherently wrong with me, that I love to sin and do things that dishonor God and hurt my relationships with other people (We don't think of it like that, that we "love to sin." But it's true, we do. We're more passionate about making ourselves happy - even with seemingly good things like families, food and fellowship - and feeding our egos than we are about loving God).

The problem is me. Maybe when I pester people to go out to lunch, that's a turn-off because what I'm really doing is not respecting their boundaries and demanding my own way, that my needs be served. Maybe when I get mad that other people seem to have more friends, I'm really just coveting that they got what I wanted. I'm like a three-year-old complaining that the other kid is playing with that toy, even when I have a perfectly good toy in my own hands. I'm greedy. And maybe, just maybe, all the overthinking I do isn't the result of some drama that just came to me... maybe I'm actually the instigator by all the thinking I do because I'm trying to control something that I can't.

See, those are the earthly things Paul is telling us to put to death. I loved the colorful way our pastor put it today (I'm paraphrasing. I don't take notes during the sermon, so this is based on my own recollection. Eek): "Be passionate about annilihating anything that would rob you of your affections for God. Put it to death."

That sounds trite these days. Put our sin to death. Jesus is our only hope. God is enough. Jesus died to bring you to God. We say them so often and they've been absorbed into our church-ese that they don't mean anything to us anymore. Indeed, I had even been getting a little anxious with our pastors because they basically were preaching the exact same sermon every week. Didn't matter what the text was, the final message was always, "Jesus is our only hope." I wanted to scream, "I KNOW! So now what?!"

But the more I reflect on the truth that Jesus is, in fact, my only hope, that my sin is so great that it separates me from God, and that apart from Him, I can't make myself good or right, the more I realize how much I do not live a life that responds to that hope. I cling to things like work and family and friends and company and TV and food and dreams of marriage to fulfill me but they never, ever do. Never. That sounds trite, too, to say that God is enough. But really, we live like God + ____ = enough. Oh, what a lie we buy into when we think that. How we insult God's holiness when we say as long as He gives us this, that and the other AND Him, then we'll be okay. But the truth is that if your family and friends and company and TV and food and marriage were pulled out from under you, if they were all gone tomorrow, all you would be left with would be the Lord and that would still be enough. Do you know that? I mean, do you really know that? Or are you waiting for God to give you things that you think make you happy, instead of resting in Him alone who is your greatest joy?

If Jesus is my only hope, Paul says, I should abhor the things that starve me of my affections for Him. Because God is enough, I should be waging war on "what is earthly in [me]: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry." I shouldn't be waging war on perceived slights or the unfairness of life, but on the things that would draw me away from the Giver of life... and rejoicing that He has brought me near by the precious blood of Christ.

One of the songs we sang at the closing of the service was "I Am One of Those" by Nathan Partain. Google it. Find it. Listen to it. I don't know how to embed audio or video here (I'm a slow blog learner), so you'll have to do the dirty work. But the last stanza brought it all home for me:

I am one of those, who was hard to love and ugly
Self-righteous, critical; religion was my stain,
Then I came to Christ to wash and be discovered,
Jesus came to me and covered up my shame.

I am hard to love and ugly... but Jesus came to me and covered up my shame.

Something's wrong with me. Only Jesus can fix it. This is the gospel. This is grace.

Our flag was still there

2010-09-11T18:05:00.006-05:00

It was a Tuesday morning and I didn't have any classes but I still had homework to do. So I got out of bed around 9 and made my way to the bathroom. When I was done, I opened the door to hear my youngest brother, who was 7 at the time, yelling at me, "Two towers fell down and George Bush has to save the people!" Still groggy with sleep, I mumbled, "Huhwhatareyatalkinbout?"

I went downstairs to see my mom frozen on the couch, watching TV. I sat down next to her and tried to make sense of what Peter Jennings was saying. Planes... World Trade Center... Flight 93... the Pentagon. I had walked into the middle of something horrific and didn't know which end was up. It was several long minutes before I was able to put it all together. I barely left the living room all day. Images kept rolling across the screen. Ash, dust, debris, death. The airports were closed. The malls were closed. Home, which was always the safest place, suddenly felt vulnerable.

The remember feeling in a daze over the next few weeks and months. I remember feeling fiercely patriotic and yes, I'm going to go there, I was proud of our president in the aftermath. I was proud of us. But I was on edge everywhere I went. I was scared of those who bore a resemblance to the terrorists. I confess that sometimes I still am. But I think I've grown numb. I think we all have and that is a dangerous thing to be.

It's been nine years now - not even a whole decade - and we don't talk about it as much. Have we just adjusted that well? Have we forgotten already? Do we just not want to think about it? This is trivial, I know, but I read only one comic strip that paid tribute to that fateful day. This is what I do for a living, by the way. I prepare comics pages for newspapers around the country. I have 22 newspaper clients and not every paper runs the same strips. Twenty two clients means a few hundred different comic strips. Maybe not quite that many, since there is some overlap, but still. A LOT. Most of them go out of their way to spend a week acknowledging Veterans' Day, use their strip as a platform to remind people to vote, or build their whole series around politics. But only one strip thought to remember the day we were attacked, to pay homage to what we have gone through as a country.

We need to think about it. We need to remember what it was like that day, the horror and the agony and the fear. Someone declared war on us and we've been fighting ever since. But it seems the fire has gone out of the fight - which I fear will make us sitting ducks. I'm no politician. You can probably guess which party I vote with, but I'm not terribly well-versed in international affairs (or even a lot of domestic ones. ahem. I'll work on it). But I doubt that the extremists are finished and by forgetting their work, we're giving them the upper hand.

Furthermore, we do our soldiers, our firefighters and police officers, our fellow patriots and ourselves a disservice when we choose to stop talking about what happened nine years ago. Many left their wives, husbands, children and friends behind. Many ran into burning buildings or into the Iraqi desert and came back broken. Many never came back at all. Many sat at home and watched it all go down, wondering how to pick up the pieces. We all changed. We mark time by it now. We talk about what life was like before the planes crashed into the towers. What life is like after. Let's stop pretending we can sweep this under the rug or bury the skeletons in a closet.

Francis Scott Key was reflecting on a literal battle scene when he wrote these lines, but the words ring true for us today: "And the rocket's red glare/the bombs bursting in the air/gave proof through the night/that our flag was still there." Our very own anthem was penned during war. Our nation was born out of a struggle. We do poorly to forget the hard times, because it's when things are hard that we remember who we are and what we're capable of. As the planes burst into flames and the towers crumbled, as the Pentagon was plowed and a field in Pennsylvania turned into a graveyard, we remembered we were Americans and we fought back, not just in the desert, but by pulling out bodies, offering drinks of water and standing strong together.

I imagine there were a lot of tears on Flight 93, as the passengers considered in their last moments the people they were leaving behind, but the tears didn't keep them from doing what they had to do. They didn't think about the politics involved, or whether they had voted for the current occupant of the White House or not. They saw an evil at hand and gave up their lives to stop it. They left a legacy of courage and action and we would do well to remember them.

America... let's roll!

What would you ask?

2010-09-10T13:16:00.001-05:00

The biggest reason I blog is to educate. As I've illustrated several times by now, I am not great at taking opportunities to educate people on how to communicate with the deaf and hard of hearing. So blogging is a way to, I don't know, make up for it, I guess. I feel like I can explain things more clearly once I've considered the situation. I figure even if the person who needed the educating has long moved on, it was still a learning experience. And I end up educating myself in the process, too, as I figure out what I could have done better in a particular situation or even why I needed this accommodation or that one.

But even then, some things seem so obvious to me that I don't think they are worth mentioning. I wonder how many things are going untold to others because I assume they know about it. Or how many things about my own hearing loss I am overlooking because I just don't think about it. So... what would you want to know? If you could sit down with a deaf or hard of hearing person and ask any question without worrying about if it was offensive or silly, what would you ask?

Travel

2010-09-07T21:20:00.006-05:00

Last week, I flew to Vegas, baby! I really feel like saying I'm going to Vegas isn't complete without the punctuation of "baby!" A "yeahhh!" would be a nice touch, but let's not get out of hand.

I got to preboard the plane because I am hard of hearing. I felt a little bad, like I am cheating. It's not like I need physical help getting on the plane, and if I had been travelling with someone who could tell me what the announcements and such were, I would have opted out of preboarding. But the thing is that I am travelling alone, no companion to tell me if we're about to go down in flames. Although I think that would be pretty easy to figure out. But I just like someone to know that I won't be able to hear the announcements. How else will I know if the plane has to make an emergency stop or that bad weather is preventing us from landing?

I flew Southwest and they are pretty good about accommodating hard of hearing passengers. When I ordered the tickets online, there was an option for me to enter my phone number so they could text me if something came up. That little feature came in handy when the flight was delayed (twice!) and later when we had to move to a different gate. Of course, they were making those announcements over the intercom and I could hear the noise of it but not understand what they were saying.

And when we had to switch gates, I actually hadn't gotten the text yet so I wasn't completely sure what to think when about half the people at the gate got up and started walking in the same direction. I mean, I kind of gathered that we were switching gates, but I felt a little insecure not having heard it for myself. So I followed them until I found a flight information screen and found the right gate. By the time I figured out where I was supposed to be, the text came through... a little after the fact, but whatevs.

Also, while I was waiting at the new gate, I eavesdropped on a conversation between a deaf passenger and one of the Southwest employees. The deaf passenger was asking if this was the right gate for the flight and then explained that she didn't know because she couldn't hear the announcement. I talked to her for a little bit myself, very nice lady. But she looked like she felt so sorry for me when I told her that I just followed the crowd and checked the flight status screen. She had just been asking other passengers to relay the info to her and conveyed that it was sad that I had to figure things out for myself. Huh what? I mean, yeah, information wasn't as quickly or as readily available to me as it was for the passengers who could hear the announcement, but a few minutes and a little thinking outside the box and I was good to go. I didn't feel sorry for myself or mad at Southwest for having to check the board. I just did what I had to do to make sure I knew what was going on.

Yes, as a hard of hearing person, I may have to adapt a little more to my circumstances and no, it's not always fair that I don't have the same information presented to me in the same way or always at the same time as other people, but so what? It's not sad that I use my brain to figure things out on my own or consider what other resources I have at my disposal. Maybe I missed a good opportunity to educate an airline on what to do with deaf and hard of hearing passengers, but at the same time, in this case there wasn't really a need. I felt they were already doing the best they could and I don't know what scolding them for not coming and telling me which gate to move to would accomplish. I did eventually get a text from them telling me where to go and I had other resources to use.

There's a fine line between advocating/raising awareness and adapting, I think. Some deaf/hard of hearing people seem to demand that they receive information and services and attention and get quite upset when their needs aren't met in a timely manner. I'm all for equal access, but let's use our brains, too. We don't live in a perfect world and frankly, I've been noticing lately just how many of us (deaf, hearing and everything in between!) expect life to be comfortable and roses and sunshine all the time, and it's nice when we have those moments, but life in general is not like that. We don't live in a fair world and sometimes we just have to cope the best we can. For the hard of hearing, sometimes this means going without the communication assists we are used to and finding or coming up with other ways of getting the information we need. A lot of times, those other ways are just as good as having an interpreter or captioning or personal attention. Other times it will be uncomfortable or tedious or barely sufficient, but oh well. Life goes on and I would rather do hard things and maybe be a better, more adaptable person for it than to demand the easy things and live a life of constant disappointment.

Whew. End rant.

On a lighter note, Vegas was fun. I went to visit my cousin and her family. We went on the strip a couple of nights, once to walk around and the second to visit Madame Tussad's (wax museum). We also went to the Hoover Dam, went on a train ride and kicked each other's butts at Mario Kart. Good times, and pictures to follow on Facebook. Eventually. I am the slowest picture uploader ever.

I really do like to travel and my wish list for next year includes Florida and Washington D.C. Who's with me?!

Last hurrah

2010-08-31T12:48:00.004-05:00

Normally, I can't wait for summer to end. Usually by now, I've had more than my fill of hot, sticky days and nothing on TV. Fall and sweaters and chilly can't come fast enough. But not this year. This year, I surprised myself by wishing for a few more weeks of longer days and laziness and strawberries. It's really all about the food, you know. I am looking forward to fall, I always do. But it can take its time coming this year. I hope this weekend - the last hurrah of the season - slows to a crawl and meanders through the moments.

It was a good summer. There was a wedding. I wore a fancy blue dress and welcomed a sister-in-law. I made a few new friends, got to know friendish (you know, the ones who aren't new friends anymore, but they're not lifelong friends yet, either) ones better and savored the company of old friends. New friends are fun because they are worlds unexplored. Old friends are good because they are familiar and comfortable but there are always facets of their personalities to ponder, especially as we grow and change together. Babies were born and held and cuddled and snuggled. Bliss means a morning holding a sleeping infant. Church feels more like a family than a corporation. I bet the babies have something to do with that.

It was a delicious summer. (I told you it was all about the food.) I ate a lot of strawberries (which also means I kept chocolate companies in business. Is there anything better than strawberries and chocolate? Mmmm). I explored the city and dined on exquisite crepes, thick-cut bacon, decadent cupcakes, savory biscuits and gravy and Italian sodas. There may have also been a cinnamon roll involved at one time. My kitchen and I reached a delicate truce and the smoke alarm has kept to itself (mostly). But then, I didn't use the oven too much. It was too hot. But I will say that my eyes were opened to the wonder that is Bisquick and I learned that you should probably not try out brand new recipes on people you'd like to call friends. I hope they forgive me for experimenting on them.

It was a lovely summer. I tried to see things I don't normally see. Keeping my camera on hand and looking for pictures left me awestruck. Did you know the sun can shine while it's raining? That it can rain while the sun is shining? (This is a good life lesson to ponder, too.) I could easily spend the rest of my life watching summer sunsets... witnessing the sun's happily tired retreat after a lively and carefree day. Someday, I want to move to Westside, where the trees and shrubs and overwhelming greenery peacefully coexist with new old houses that are just dying to share stories, I know. I looked people in the eye more. And smiled and said hello. That's all we really want, I think. To know and be known.

Oh, thank You Lord, for Your sweet summer mercies.

Well, Pooh

2010-08-29T21:48:00.005-05:00

When you are a Bear of Very Little Brain, and Think of Things, you find sometimes that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you is quite different when it gets out into the open and has other people looking at it.

-Pooh's Little Instruction Book, inspired by A. A. Milne

(I think Winne the Pooh would have been a good blogger.)

I've been thinking about independence lately. It's good for an adult woman to be independent. I pay my own bills, make my own decisions and have my own life. But sometimes I take that too far and start thinking that maybe I don't really need people. Which I suppose is technically true, God is enough. Jesus is my only hope. But I like the way our pastors put it. "Yes, Jesus is your only hope, but living in community teaches you to love and know Jesus in a way that you'll never learn by yourself." I tend to push people away. I'm happy to serve them and love on them and let them talk about their problems and their joys and their hearts, but my gosh, you'd have to hire a team of wild horses to drag it out of me. So independence goes too far. Does that mean being independent is bad? How does it line up with Scripture, if at all? My brain hurts.

Also, I wonder sometimes, do I love Jesus or do I love being Reformed? You Reformies will know what I mean (also, let's make "Reformies" happen). Do I filter Piper, Driscoll and Chandler through Scripture? Or do I filter Scripture through Reformed tradition and theology? I am guilty of doing more of the latter. Which is ironic, really, because one of the foundations of Reformed theology is that Scripture is our final authority. I am just one big ball of irony today, I know.

Switching gears, I am getting more and more interested in learning about hearing loss, how to educate people on it, how to advocate. All sorts of fun times. Anyway, I am really big on educating people about hearing loss because I realized that a lot of the frustrations that I experience daily are rooted in the fact that people just don't know how to communicate with me. It's not that they don't want to help - they just don't know what to do. So instead of getting mad, I have been trying to do better about explaining (calmly) what I need instead of assuming that people can read my mind. Which has been a grand thing for me, eye-opening and freeing and all that. But I forget that I need to learn, too. I don't have all the answers. I don't want to turn into this person who demands this service or that action. Balance is hard. Teaching and learning. Standing up and letting things slide. Phew. (That was the sound of me blowing the bangs out of my eyes in confusion.)

But I am thankful for brains. For reasoning and thinking and pondering and meditating and considering.

Even if it seems a bother sometimes, as our Pooh bear friend would say.

What difference does it make?

2010-08-25T20:46:00.003-05:00

I am not awesome at advocating for myself. Educating others on communication is not my strong suit. That's why I have this blog, to make up for what I don't do face to face. Maybe I'm chicken. Sometimes it is hard to stand up to someone or something and say, "Hey, could you please do this or that? I need help communicating." It puts me in a vulnerable position to do that. Sometimes it's awkward. So I lose a lot of opportunities to advocate because I'm chicken or shy or lazy or whatever.

Tthere's also a niggling question in the back of my head. "What difference does it make?" For instance, one of the things that really strikes a nerve with me is the fact that it is almost impossible to watch a captioned movie in the theater in this city. There's only one theater that has subtitles and the showtimes are bizarre. Like 11am on a Friday morning... um, hi, I have to work just like everyone else! A few other theaters offer rear window captioning, but I have yet to meet a deaf or hard of hearing person who enjoyed that experience. So in the interest of advocacy, I could write letters to the theaters, chains, management, the companies responsible for captioning and so on. But I don't because I know they'll come back with, "It's too expensive." I don't even try because I assume I'll lose.

The job I have now is the first one I had out of college. I've been there almost three years. It took me about a year just to find it. I probably applied for a couple hundred... ish jobs in that one year span. I had a college degree. I had work experience, both on and off campus. If I may say so, I was a pretty good candidate for employment and while I don't have any hard and fast proof of this, I think it took me so long to find a job because employers didn't really want to hire someone who need accommodations (all I really needed was a CapTel phone). I know deaf and hard of hearing people who struggle to find a job because they can't talk on the phone. That's frustrating and unfair and the Sheriff of the Universe in me wants everything to be brought to justice. I want to fight and stand up for people like us so that we have an equal shot at getting jobs. But what can one person do? What could I really say so that someone will listen and take me seriously?

There is so much that needs to be explained about hearing loss, but sometimes it feels like no one is really listening. Movie theaters only care about money. Employers don't want to take a small step for a valuable employee (uh, to clarify, in case my co-workers ever find my blog, I love my employer. And they love me. They've done so well in providing me with a phone, including me in conversations and they have, in the past, provided an interpreter if I ask. So many employers may be lazy... but mine isn't). Churches don't always have the resources to be accessible and even friends get impatient. So sometimes it just seems easier to let things slide and pretend I can get by without them. Little fish, big pond.

I know, I know, I need to get over this self-defeatist mentality. And a lot of my reluctance is rooted in my laziness; advocacy is hard work and I'm not always willing to put in the effort. But I wish my friends and family would go a little easier on me and not scold me so much for not standing up for myself more. What they don't understand is that if I asked for clarification every time I missed something or advocated for myself every time I felt ignored, I would never stop talking! There's just so many communication barriers that need to be torn down that I wonder what the point is in even starting. Which is kind of how I feel about my closet right now. It's so messy, what's the point of even trying to clean it?! :p

But as with the closet, I guess it starts one step at a time. One small group at church. One friend. One letter. And maybe even one blog. :)

Somebody's getting a letter about this

2010-08-20T09:53:00.006-05:00

I hate getting my oil changed. Hate it. Partly because of the communication factor but mostly because I am a woman. Because when I walk in to get my oil changed, those mechanics start drooling. Not because of my bodacious curves, friends. No. They are drooling pennies and sweating dollar bills. They look at me and an explosion of "KA-CHING!" and "$$$$$" clouds their vision. I once paid something like $80 for an oil change because they talked me into changing the air filter. Never. again.

Well today, I had to get my oil changed. Had to. As in, got up at 6am so I could be the first customer, had to. So I make my way to Valvoline (oh yes I'm naming names). The sun is shining, it's a beautiful morning and I'm thinking I could totally start doing this early bird thing. The man who was helping me at Valvoline seemed nice AND he was speaking clearly, which is always a plus, especially among mechanics who tend to mumble (as has been my experience anyway). After making it clear I just wanted an oil change (with the basic oil, not the five million dollar oil) and nothing else, I was good to go and went to go sit in the waiting room while they worked on Amelia (I name my cars. Go with it).

Then after a few minutes, Mechanic Man comes in and does his spiel about how I really, REALLY need to buy this, that and the other or my car will explode into a flaming fireball of death. Whatevs. I'm cool this time and I pass on the air filter. I am wiser now. So wise. Then he whips out a new one - transmission fluid. He is shocked, he says, by how brown it is. It should be bright pink. He asks if I know when the last time was it was changed. I say no. He says they have service records on my car (apparently the previous owners always brought the car to Valvoline) and he has no record of the transmission ever being flushed. He punctuated all of this with an expression of horror. Flaming fireball of death, here we come. So I start doubting. And thinking things like, "ohmygawsh, brown bad, pink GOOD!!" So I asked him how much it cost. He said, "One twenty nine."

And friends, this is where it went downhill. I had a blonde moment and thought he meant one dollar and twenty-nine cents. So I agreed to the service and he left the room, probably cackling a maniacal laugh. But as soon as he left, I thought (see, that thinking thing comes in handy from time to time), "Waaaaaaaaaaaaait a minute. When was the last time I spent a mere dollar and twenty-nine cents on anything auto-related that wasn't an air freshener? And he looked waaaaaaay to happy to have made one dollar and change." So I checked the pricing poster that was in the waiting room. Transmission flush - one HUNDRED and twenty nine dollars. Oh no, this won't do. This won't do at all.

So I ran out to the floor and asked if they had started yet. They said no. I said, "Okay, well, I changed my mind, I don't want the transmission flush right now." Mechanic Man suddenly turned into Rude Dude. "FINE!" he scoffed, rolled his eyes, threw up his hands, turned on his heel and walked away. Then they finished up on my car and I went over to pay. He would barely make eye contact and was short with me.

I mean, really. How old are we here? Three? Whatever. I smiled and thanked him and left. And laughed a little bit when I got in the car. Not only did he miss out on $129, he's going to miss out on a lifetime of oil changes from me. So it was pretty much a lose-lose for Valvoline today.

And that is why I hate getting my oil changed. They think customer service means shaming their clients (at least the lady ones) into paying out the wazoo for questionable services. Just because I have boobs does not mean I don't have a brain. Last year, the heat went out in my car twice. When I went back the second time to get it fixed, the guy helping me tried to make it sound like it was my fault when really, he had just not fixed the problem as thoroughly as he said he did. Hmph. Typical. Now see, if I was a man, I sincerely doubt any of this would have happened. My inner closet feminist cringes, but it's true. There's just no place for a woman in the automotive industry... not as a consumer, anyway.

Let's just chalk this up to reason #73 why I should get married - he* can go get the oil changed. And men, this would be a really sweet courtesy to extend to your lady friends, lady sisters and lady mamas. Change their oil or go with them when they do. We'll be forever grateful. I, for one, would make you cookies.

*Fake husband. Let's call him Gerard Butler for now.

Snakes and snails and puppy dog tails

2010-08-19T20:22:00.005-05:00

So I told myself I was going to blog more, be more consistent. HA. See, I'm doing that thing where I think too much again. It's so fun. :p And I told some people about my blog. And stalkers have come out of hiding. So now I am so very aware that people, like real, live, breathing, honest-to-God people, are actually reading the things I come up with. If my life was a cartoon, this is the point where I'd start sweating profusely. Enjoy that image! All that to say, it's taking me longer to write things because I'm doing that darn thinking thing. Must. stop.

Anywhozzle, you know what makes blogs great? Children. Mommy blogs are all the rage because they are essentially stories and pictures of cute kids and hilarious happenings. The closest thing I have to that is stories - oh, the stories - of things that happen when I babysit. Sometimes pastors' children are involved (those are the best tales). Like last night. There is this little boy at church, I think about 3 or 4, going on 13. I called him "little" to his face once and he proceeded to scream, "I'm not LITTLE!" at me for five minutes straight. His idea of a good time is fake shooting people, stomping, throwing things and generally being manly. He likes to do everything himself. He prefers to be in charge. He's all about playing in the dirt. He also has the most tender heart.

He and his two friends were playing some bad robot game. They were robots and they were bad. I'm not really sure what role I adopted in this fantasy world of theirs, but it involved me having superpowers (which I am totally on board with) and guarding my "castle," (aka the storytime circle in the nursery) which was magical and rendered all other superpowers (from unwanted visitors) useless. It was a pretty awesome deal, really.

So anyway, these boys are blasting their imaginary lasers, whipping out their made-up swords, shooting their finger-guns and otherwise using every ounce of their pretend arsenal to take me down. I'm fake fighting back (which really consisted of me talking back and taunting them with the fact that their powers were useless in my castle, ha ha HA!) but they were relentless so I decide to let them win this round. I shrank back and pretended to "die," and collapsed, limp in my chair. After a few seconds, I can feel them poking me to see if I'm really dead. I let the charade go on for just a little bit more when I feel a small arm reach across my shoulder. I open one eye to peek at what's unfolding and Little Man is gently cradling me, his cheek resting on top of my head, with a very concerned expression on his face.

And we all say, "Ahhhwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!" now. Then I leapt up, proclaimed myself the Tickle Monster and they all went running for their lives.

It was a fun evening.

There were a couple of times where the kids (who were all about 3 or 4 and up. I think the oldest was probably 5 or 6) were trying to tell me something but I couldn't understand them. I had told Little Man a long time ago that he needed to look at me when he talks. He forgets. Then there's another boy who I often have to tell him - like every time I see him - that he has to look up and at me when he has something to say. He forgets.

I haven't done a great job trying to teach these younger ones about hearing loss. What I've done in the past has been pretty simple. Get down on their level, look them in the eye. Often, I'll lift my hair and let them see my hearing aids. I use age appropriate language to help them understand that my ears don't work like theirs do, so I need them to look at me when they talk. But they're kids... they forget or they just don't really know what I'm talking about. Which is understandable. They're not used to the idea that someone can't hear. And they only see me once a week, maaaaybe twice a week at most. So even though I have a lot of fun babysitting, sometimes watching younger children (old enough to talk, but just barely out of toddler-hood) can be an interesting experience when I can't understand them. Most of the time, I eventually figure out what they want and believe me, kids find a way to make themselves understood! But I would like to be more consistent with educating them, too. I think it's good for them to learn about hearing loss and disability (in age-appropriate ways, of course) - the sooner they're exposed to things like that, the more comfortable they'll be around people who just need a little extra help sometimes.

I should probably also be involving the parents more. Not just educating them, but asking them to help me educate their children. Things parents teach go a lot farther than anything I can say. I remember a few years ago, my cousin and her family visited for Christmas. Her son was probably 6 or 7 at the time. I could tell that she had taken the time to explain to him ahead of time how to communicate with me, because when I saw them, he was very comfortable facing me and speaking clearly. He was also so proud to show me some sign language he had learned! ;) We bonded. It was great. And I was really thankful that I didn't have to start from scratch teaching him about communicating with me - we were free to have fun and be silly because all the learnin' was out of the way. ;)

So all that to say... boys are so fun.

Quiet

2010-08-15T16:22:00.003-05:00

I have been reflecting on quiet lately. Being hard of hearing is not quite as silent as you might think. My ears ring sometimes. With my hearing aids on, I hear lots of noises but I'm not always able to pick out specific sounds. Everything blurs into one mass of white noise. Sometimes turning my hearing aids off is a relief. Quiet becomes a safe place rather than a frightening one. Sometimes it's lonely, but at the same time, sometimes I need the lonely.

I've also been thinking about the quiet of my heart. A verse that keeps popping up in my life is 1 Thessalonians 4:11, but I'm big on context, so here's verses 9-12:

Now concerning brotherly love you have no need for anyone to write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another, for that indeed is what you are doing to all the brothers throughout Macedonia. But we urge you, brothers, to do this more and more, and to aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you, so that you may walk properly before outsiders and be dependent on no one.

I grew up in a culture of Christianity that dreamed big things. If God called you to do something, it was going to be Big. And Awesome. And Everyone Would Take Notice. And if you weren't doing something Crazy, then maybe you weren't really a Christian. Or something. That's how I felt sometimes anyway.

I tend to expect Huge Things when I feel called to do something. Like if I feel called to, I don't know, make Rice Krispie treats for my neighbors, then I assume something Big is going to happen if I do. Like we'll be BFFs or conquer the world together or something. Or even with this blog, I confess I expect a lot out of it. I write here for a lot of reasons but mostly I write because I feel like that's a passion the Lord created in me. So sometimes I think that means that I have to say Amazing and Meaningful and Deep and Rock Your Face Off things ALL the time. Which is really very arrogant, unrealistic and exhausting!

I admit I'm tempted. I'm jealous sometimes of people who live what I call loud lives. Everyone knows their name. They do Great Things, like write books or lead seminars or preach sermons or heal bodies or feed the poor. I don't do these things. And I often battle the whisper of doubt that nags at me, "You're not good enough. You're not cool enough. Your life is not loud enough. You must not really love Jesus because you haven't rescued all the children in China."

But that verse keeps popping up. The truth is, I'm more at home living a quiet life. My place is behind those who are on the front lines, to pray for them and lift them up and serve them, so that they can do the Big Things. My job is to take care of kids so their parents can have a break. To type words to the internet so maybe somebody else somewhere else knows that they're not alone in their hearing aids. To be faithful to my work, honor my bosses and respect those in authority. To make the neighbors feel welcome. To be faithful to all the things in between. To aspire to live a quiet life.

In case of emergency

2010-08-13T12:46:00.004-05:00

I ran across this blog a short time ago and especially liked the author's most recent post about not being able to hear at night. I have had similar experiences... it's unnerving!

I lived in a house with three other girls a couple of years ago. One roommate and I moved in during the summer and the other two would follow in the fall. Well that was kind of a hard summer. The other lone roommate would be gone a lot, especially weekends, so I spent many nights alone. Even though my bedroom was in the partially-finished basement and I felt pretty safe because, really, I doubted robbers went in the basement much, it was still hard to fall asleep. I worried about not being able to hear anyone break in or awaking to find some stranger in my room. I grappled with being afraid of death and eventually made peace with knowing that no matter what happened to my body, my soul was safe with God.

I'm still a little fearful at night, though. Even though I live in a relatively safe area and have plenty of locks, I still sleep with my phone on and even in the bed with me (I charge it when I get home from work). I keep my keys close at hand so I can hit the panic button in an emergency. And, like I commented on Michele's post, my parents trained me at a young age to call 911 if there was an emergency and, since I wouldn't be able to hear the person on the other line, to just keep repeating my information (why I was in trouble and where I was) until help arrived. Luckily, I've never had to do that but that's my personal plan.

Vulnerability is the hardest thing, I think, about living with hearing loss.

Illusion

2010-08-07T10:31:00.003-05:00

“The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.” - George Bernard Shaw

I have been chewing on this quote lately. On one hand, it hits me in the hearing aids. Even I am not always aware that I did not catch something. Someone will say something and I'll think that I understood them perfectly, so I don't ask for clarification. Then somewhere down the line, I discover that what I heard was not what was said. Sometimes it's funny. Sometimes awkward. I think it makes people feel like I wasn't listening to them in the first place and I feel bad that happens (Yah, I confess there are times I'm not listening, or I'm zoning in and out of the conversation. We all do that. I'm talking about the times where I really was listening but somehow misinterpreted something but didn't think I had. Or maybe didn't realize I was not getting all of the information).

On the other hand, the quote hits me in the heart, too. I think so often people think that as long as we acknowledge each other with a "hello, how are you" or we follow people on Twitter, that we're communicating and engaging in community. And don't get me wrong, those things are helpful. "Hello" can eventually lead to conversation and Twitter, Facebook and blogging are great portals to connection. But we tend to treat them as replacements for face-to-face, heart-to-heart interactions. I am guilty of this. I don't reach out as much as I should. I'm intimidated by parties and large groups... even small groups require me to give myself a pep talk before heading out! ;) So I'm most comfortable and most myself in one-on-one settings or itty-bitty gatherings. I get the feeling, though, that it's the opposite for most people. It's hard to find someone who's willing to scale back and community with me (oh yes I did just use the word community as a verb. Jon Acuff would be proud).

I'm fully aware, though, that the road goes both ways. Parties and groups aren't impossible for me. I act like they are, but they're not. My new-ish digital hearing aids (I've had them for two years) do a much better job of filtering out background noise than I give them credit for. My lipreading skills are solid. Communication is not impossible in more crowded settings, so I'm wrong to completely avoid those things myself. I'm sad that people seem intimidated by me, or rather, intimidated by the idea of talking to me, but on a lighter note, in the spirit of the road going both ways, I'm the same way. I'm just like that with the young moms! ;)

Don't get me wrong, I'm not scared of them. I know they're people, too. I love kids. I love their kids. But I find myself tongue-tied. It's like I think that if I don't have children myself, then we have absolutely nothing to talk about. As if the only thing these ladies know is child-rearing and nothing else. As if I have nothing to offer them because I'm not even married. Psh. I know in my head that's false, but I struggle to get over it. I'm silly. So tell me, friends, what should a single, not-even-dating girl talk to a married mom about? That's my awkward honest moment of the day. Enjoy. ;)

I want to stop buying into the illusion that communication and community have taken place. I want to feel free to say, "What did you say?" I want to be comfortable reaching out. I want to do those things even when it's not comfortable. I want to give and be poured out. Like Jesus was.

I want to be all used up when I die. - George Bernard Shaw

Once upon a time

2010-08-02T10:49:00.015-05:00

I just spent over an hour "organizing" my desk. So far, all I have are empty drawers and a littered floor. Meh. I'm rewarding myself with a blog post. That is just how nerdy I am.

I'm working on a post about why I blog. It's getting long. Just so you know, if I ever tell you that I'm giving you the short version of something, just laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. There is no such thing. I used to get frustrated because some D/deaf and hard of hearing people I know will just go on and on, telling me stories about some rather mundane event. It used to drive me up the wall... until I realized that I did the same thing! I can't just tell you how my day was. I have to start with telling you how I couldn't get out of bed, what I had for breakfast, how long it took me to get to work, etc. Most people say, "Good, and you?" when I ask them how they are. I give them my life story! So I'm trying to be a more gracious listener and a more succinct storyteller (Like I said, just laugh and laugh and laugh).

That is something that takes getting used to, though, when I'm around people with hearing loss - the stories. It takes longer, I think, to get through conversations because they don't have the same staccato as conversations among people who can hear. Conversations in the D/deaf and hard of hearing world are long and lengthy and full of rabbit trails. They might hover briefly at the surface but then they plunge deeper. It seems to me that people who can hear take longer to be vulnerable. They seem reluctant to just sit and talk. They always have to be doing something or going somewhere and they have to do it all in a crowd, never one on one.

But when you can't hear, you are already vulnerable and more willing to let your guard down with others. Your hearing has been stripped away and you can more easily see the things that matter. So you zip through things like what's your favorite color and what kind of music do you like and go straight to discussing what was it like for you growing up and how do you deal with your hearing loss? I think, too, that when you live on the outskirts of every other conversation, you are just so eager to connect, especially with those who can share your pain. So you tell stories and bond.

And live happily ever after. The end.

Snapshots

2010-08-01T21:26:00.006-05:00

And how was your week?

Bucket list

2010-07-30T11:01:00.001-05:00

I'd like to watch a live shuttle launch. The last one is in February. I'm thinking a Florida winter sounds heavenly.

What's on your bucket list?

Fear

2010-07-29T11:11:00.003-05:00

There's a discrepancy between what I want to do and what I do. I want to travel but I stay home. I want to be busier but I don't make an effort to be active. I want to exercise more but I hang out on the couch. And the list goes on.

I look around and it seems like the people around me - and even those younger than me - are doing so much more. They're fit. They have souvenirs from around the world. They volunteer and are active in their communities. What's separating me, I wonder, from these people?

The only thing I can come up with is fear. I used to say (okay, I still do) that I couldn't do (fill in the blank) because of the hearing aids. But that excuse flies out the window every time I meet someone who has some kind of hearing loss but has still accomplished so much. So the hearing aids are not a good excuse. The truth is that I'm afraid. I've always been a people-pleaser and I've always wanted nothing more to fit in. I worry a lot about what other people think of me and I hold my reputation dear.

When I was in third grade, I was going to a school that heavily promoted the arts. There were always plays and such to try out for. Drama and dance classes were a regular staple of our curriculum. So it wasn't unusual to me one day when our music teacher walked into our classroom. I don't remember having an interpreter at that moment, which is weird. I always had one in the classroom, so I'm not sure why she was MIA. Anyway, the music teacher was an old lady and difficult to understand. She spoke a few words and then asked the class a question. I looked around and all of my friends had their hands raised, so I raised my hand, too, even though I had no idea what was going on.

Now, I don't really remember the details. I just remember figuring out that she had asked something about who wanted to audition for something or the other and I was mortified. I knew I couldn't sing. I still wasn't sure what was expected of me. So I raised my hand and asked to go to the bathroom. I made a beeline for the nearest stall and burst into tears. My nine-year-old mind didn't know that there was a simple fix to the whole thing - if I had just asked my friends why we were raising our hands, I could have avoided the embarrassment. But as it was, I hadn't yet learned that, nor had I learned that it was okay to backtrack and say, "Never mind, I don't want to do this." So I thought that I was now stuck, that I would be forced to do something - even though I didn't know what it was! I didn't want to do the wrong thing and look like a fool in front of my classmates. I just wanted out but I didn't want to look dumb doing it.

I knew I had to get back to the classroom so I wiped my tears off the best I could and left. Right at that time, one of the Deaf Ed teachers (I was mainstreamed at a public school but there was a Deaf Education program there. I wasn't heavily involved in it, but I knew all the teachers) was herding her small class to the bathrooms and asked me what was wrong. I guess those tears didn't wipe away as easily as I thought! Somehow she helped me get everything straightened out and life was good again.

But I never forgot that panic of not knowing what was going on or what was expected of me, or the fear of looking silly when I tried to participate without knowing the "rules." And I think that same panic fuels a lot of my decisions now. I want to travel, but because my friends are poor :p, my only option is to travel alone and I worry about that. I worry about safety, first of all. But mostly I worry about not speaking the language or not hearing flight announcements or not understanding a tour guide, etc. I want to be busier, to volunteer my time with kids, but what if? What if I can't understand them? What if I make a mistake because I misheard the instructions? I want to be more active - the gym is boring, though, so I'm brainstorming other ways to get some exercise in. I was thinking of taking a dance class. I used to like that when I was a kid. But suppose I look silly because I did the wrong move because I didn't hear the instructor? Or I mess up the steps because I missed the number of beats?

When I break down all the reasons why I don't do things, they're exhausting. Fear wears me out - and wears me down. My hearing aids don't make me less of a person, but fear does. And I don't want to live like that. I don't really want to spend the rest of my life on the couch because I'm afraid of what is out there. What if I don't travel? Or volunteer or dance? I would regret that more. I don't think anyone would think any less of me for trying.

People are funny

2010-07-20T12:04:00.005-05:00

I rarely wear my hair up. It gives me a headache and I don't like my hearing aids being so prominent. People treat me differently when they see the hearing aids, y'know.

But it was so. hot. on Saturday. I'm talking dripping sweat, Amazon rain forest kind of hot (of course, this is coming from the girl who thinks 85 degrees is too much). I had a party to go to, which meant venturing outside into the Amazon rain forest that is Kansas City and I was not about to do it with hair plastered to my neck, so up it went.

Which was all fine and good until I got to QT. I ran in to get some chips and a drink and went to the counter to pay for them. The clerk, who had been speaking in a normal voice to every other customer up until now, takes one look at me (and by "me," I mean he saw my hearing aids) and it was like he suddenly lost his voice! I had to strain to hear him, because even lipreading can't cover everything.

Clerk: (whispering) "All for you?"

Me: "Huh? What?"

Clerk (no longer whispering but still speaking softly): "Is that all?"

Me (speaking as clearly as I can without sounding like I am talking to a slow person): "Yes. That. Is. All."

Clerk (who is back to whispering): "Ebit or edit?" (what? That's what it sounded like)

Me (mentally rolling my eyes): "I'm sorry?"

Clerk (barely above a whisper): "Debit or credit?"

Me (How does he think this is helpful?): "Debit."

Clerk (with raised eyebrows and some random hand motions): "Do you want a bag?"

Me (I give up): "No, thanks!"

End scene.

Usually when people figure out I have a hearing problem, they try to talk louder. And/or they over-enunciate and they TAAAAWWWLLLKKK..... LIII-IIIIKE.... THEEEEEEEEES. But not this guy, no. "I better not talk so loud," he's probably thinking. "She has a hearing problem." Um, okay.

Then I finally made my way to the aforementioned party. There were a lot of people there from church, many whom I recognized but only one or two I had actually talked to before. So I was a little worried about it being awkward and loud and left-out-y, but it was, to my pleasant surprise, not as bad as I thought it would be. And I discovered that as much time as I spend trying to convince myself and others than I'm not so different from them that maybe I could invest a little more energy in considering how they're not so different from me.

Like the guy who had to ask his friend to repeat his question a few times. "I can't hear you," he hollered. "All this ambient noise!" Welcome to my world, I wanted to say with a hearty nod of agreement. Then there was the guy who obviously didn't understand what I had asked him. The question was, "How long have you been going to Church Name?" His response? "Oh, that's nice." HA. I'm on to you, hearing people. You fake it just as much as I do! ;-)

Finally, I think people are always kind of surprised when I open my mouth. Like, "Whoa, she can like, talk and stuff?" I was at this other party last week (I know, I'm popular. Don't hate. I'm not really popular.) and I asked someone a question. I spoke as clearly as I can - and I think I have pretty clear speech. Don't correct me if I'm wrong. Just go with it. Anyway, I had to ask him three times before he heard the question, which is fine, but each time I said it, he just looked kind of... stunned. Like he wasn't sure what to do with the fact that the Hearing Aids... spoke! (insert ghostly whispers from Lost here)

I wish I was braver and wore my hair up more, or followed other people's lead and wore tricked out hearing aids (colored molds, stickers on the aid, what have you). I'm chicken because I never know how people will respond. And I don't know, I like blending in, too. Which sounds weird to say in a world where every single person is unique, just like everyone else, and everyone is special and wonderful and deserves a gold star for waking up in the morning. But it's true. I don't like standing out. I don't like being different. On the other hand, I have to admire the gutso of people who realize they can't quite blend in. So they wear colored ear molds or gather their hair up high to expose their hearing aids. And when people are funny, these bold individuals take the opportunity - even if it's just a few seconds - to educate someone about hearing loss.

Maybe it's time for me to woman up and not be afraid to wear my hair up. I don't think the summer is going to let me win this one, anyway.
:-)

Real life conversations

2010-07-16T14:59:00.002-05:00

This went down between me and one of my co-workers, M.

Me: Ugh, I have a bug bite on my leg. It itches like crazy and now my skirt is rubbing against it just so.

M: Put a band-aid on it.

(pause of confusion)

Me: "BACON?!"

M: hahahahahhahahahaha BAND-AID

Eh. Never a dull moment in the hearing aids! ;-)

Why I am not Deaf, Part 2

2010-07-15T15:40:00.001-05:00

(Click here for part 1)

I've been writing and rewriting this post for over a week now. I've been worried about coming across as offensive. It's so hard to tell tone over the interweb, y'know. I have friends and acquaintances who consider themselves culturally Deaf and I'm not interested in alienating them. So I think maybe I should clarify something real quick. There's Deaf and then there's Deaf. On one hand, you have those who are totally immersed in Deaf culture, who hold ASL most precious and are very protective of their culture. On the other hand, you have those who might say they are culturally Deaf, but they use a variety of communication methods - signing, talking, writing, etc. They use a combination of ASL and English. They're proud to be part of the Deaf culture but don't hold to it quite so rigidly.

As in any culture or group, there will be some who are more extreme than others. Most of the people I know who are Deaf tend to not be so extreme, but I have known my share of hard-core Deaf enthusiasts. Those are the people I am usually referring to when I talk about Deaf culture and I am speaking in GENERAL terms only.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. Back to our regularly scheduled programming. Like I said, one of the biggest reasons I don't consider myself Deaf is that I'm more of an English junkie than an ASL aficionado. The other reason has to do with perception.

The Deaf community isn't fond of words like hard of hearing, hearing loss or hearing-impaired because each denotes a sense of loss, of something lacking. To the Deaf, these words imply that there is something wrong or broken and Deaf people simply don't see themselves this way. They use the word "Deaf" because to them, it conveys wholeness and acceptance.

I don't quite share the same mindset about what it means to be deaf. I appreciate where the Deaf community is coming from and in some ways, I'm even a little jealous that they've found such contentment in their deafness. They've fully embraced it as a part of them, as who they are - I have not and I live with that tension daily.

But the reason I have not embraced it as such is probably more theological than cultural. I believe this world was a perfect one before the fall, before sin entered the world. There was no disease, no famine, no blindness or deafness or lameness or AIDS or cancer. I bet Adam and Eve were hott. Everything was flawless. But then sin came and brought death and destruction. Hott Adam and Eve suddenly felt the need to cover themselves up. Cain killed Abel. Cancer ravaged bodies. AIDS spread like wildfire. Hearing and sight were extinguished. Wheelchairs and crutches replaced legs. This is not normal. This is what I think of when I read Romans 8:22 - "For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now."

So because I live in a fallen world, I regard my hearing loss as such - a loss. And yes, I do regard it as a disability, because I do not function the way the majority of the world is able to function. I need special accommodations and hearing loss does in fact disable me to do some things, or at the very least, changes certain experiences for me. I don't base who I am on my hearing aids - they cannot complete me, and I don't see eye to eye with the Deaf community in that respect.

If you were to talk to a Deaf person about English, or hearing people or even about being hard of hearing, most likely they'll play the race card. The Deaf vs. hearing argument isn't so different than the black vs. white issue. It's a handy comparison, and I've been known to use it myself (ex. Think about how someone who was of mixed race might be - in extreme cases - stigmatized or rejected by one race). Deaf people see themselves as being oppressed the same way that blacks have been oppressed in America. However, I think they take it a little too far. As (e put it on her blog so well:

"However, being deaf and being black are two different things. I do not think it is appropriate to use this analogy. Black people experienced and still experience oppression, at least in America, in completely different ways than how certain deaf people are oppressed. In the past, black people dealt with Jim Crow laws, bombings, lynchings, slavery, blatant discrimination, etc.

It seems to some people that deaf people are largely oppressed because the general population and the medical profession view deafness as a medical problem that needs to be fixed. They usually mean well by trying to help make deaf people more like hearing people (in helping them hear or gain more auditory and speaking skills)."

The biggest issue in question, as (e discusses briefly, is those who consider themselves culturally Deaf see themselves as just that - a culture, a minority. But people who aren't familiar with the culture tend to see deafness as a medical thing to be fixed. That's what it really all boils down to - culture vs. medicine. And so there's a lot of tension between Deaf and hearing - tension that I just am not sure is warranted. I think most oppression that Deaf people say they experience is rooted more in a lack of understanding. Hearing people just don't understand what it means to be Deaf and don't always know what to do when they encounter a Deaf person, that's all. It seems to me that Deaf people respond to this with hostility rather than patience and a willingness to educate (and be educated by) hearing people (Again, I'm speaking in general terms only. Not every single Deaf person is like this). In other words, can't we all just get along?

So to recap, I don't consider myself culturally Deaf and prefer to be called hard of hearing because:

1) English is my first language. I appreciate ASL and know how to use it, but it's not native to me.

2) The Deaf community finds wholeness in being Deaf, while I view my hearing loss as just that - a loss.

3) The Deaf community sets themselves apart as a culture, while I view my hearing loss as a medical issue.

So that's why I say I'm hard of hearing instead of Deaf or even deaf. I don't have a problem with my audiologist calling me deaf - after all, without my hearing aids, I can't hear a thing! But with my hearing aids in, I talk. I listen. I engage. I function more like a hearing person than a D/deaf person. Being called Deaf brings up some uncomfortable connotations for me, simply because I know that's not a place where I belong. You certainly wouldn't call me hearing, either, so that's why I prefer hard of hearing. Not Deaf. Not hearing. Just me.

Why I am not Deaf, Part 1

2010-07-06T21:23:00.006-05:00

(Click here for part 2)

I like to wander through the blogosphere. I'll read a friend's blog, find out who they're following, read one of theirs, then read one of their follower's blogs, etc. It's a grand way to waste an afternoon. Anyway, during one of my blog wanderings, I stumbled upon The ASL Project. You should check it out - it's a great example of how culturally Deaf people view themselves and the hearing world.

I was especially intrigued by this post, Playing Hearing: A Losing Game. More intiguing was when I figured out I had gone to college with the author... small world! Anyway, I've read the post a couple times and even followed some of the links to videos that he and his wife made to educate people about Deaf culture. I've been chewing on this for a while now.

I can sympathize with some of what Richard says in his post. Playing hearing is indeed a losing game. When I am with a group of people who can hear well, I am actually less myself than if I am with a hearing person one-on-one. Because in a group, I can't keep up with the conversation. Lip-reading can only take me so far. And when my ability to communicate with others is cut off, I am cut off. Communication is the cornerstone to everything. If you don't talk, if you don't share yourself with others, how are you really living, then?

I can appreciate his perspective and struggle over trying to be part of the hearing world. And let's face it, no matter how well-intentioned hearing people are, the solutions are never enough. Adequate lighting, sitting in the front row, asking everyone to take their turn talking, to speak up and slow down... it might be good for a few minutes, but people forget. They forget to do those things and sometimes even the person who needs those things forgets to ask or grows weary of always having to ask. So after a while, we just stop asking and muddle along the best we can. We fade away into the background. I share Richard's pain in that experience.

Where we differ is where we've chosen to focus our energies. He's chosen Deaf culture and I've chosen the hearing world. There are probably a lot of blogs and websites and books and resources out there about the differences between the two, and indeed, my own reasons for choosing to opt out of the Deaf cultural are numerous, but it really boils down to one thing: language.

People who consider themselves culturally Deaf use American Sign Language (ASL) as their mode of communication. ASL is not merely gestured English, but a completely different language with its own grammar, vocabulary and syntax. In fact, many states recognize ASL as a foreign language.

Language is the cornerstone of culture. I mean, think about it. If Americans primarily spoke German instead of English, what a difference that would make for our culture. Or if Italians spoke Russian and Russians spoke French. Culture, customs, idioms, art, music - everything would be radically different. So ASL is the cornerstone of the Deaf culture and one must really embrace ASL to be considered part of the culture.

I've mentioned before that I used to be involved in deaf ministry. I ended up leaving for a variety of reasons but the truth is that I find it difficult to communicate with Deaf people, too. I really was doing my best to pick up ASL so that I could communicate with my new friends better. And while they appreciated my efforts, they didn't take any steps to level the playing field by working on their English to better communicate with me. I felt like I was expected to conform to them; there didn't seem to be a way for us all share the burden of communication together.

ASL is beautiful indeed, but I think English is, too. I think there are intricacies that English can capture that ASL cannot. Or at least, there are things I can say in English that I can't quite convey with ASL (and that may have more to do with my ASL deficiencies, not ASL itself). English is a rich and complex and lovely language. So is ASL, but English is my first (linguistic) love. And since English is the cornerstone of the hearing community, that will most likely always be where I'm most closely affiliated. I won't ever be hearing, mind you, but I am even less capable of being Deaf. I can appreciate ASL but I don't love it like they do. It's not as sacred to me, as Richard says. (Fun fact, though: When I'm alone, I will crank the music up and sign songs. Sorry, Mom, but I'm not doing it at church. ;))

So language is one of the big reasons that I don't consider myself culturally Deaf. It's probably the least emotional reason, really. They require I love ASL. I respect it but don't cherish it as they do. We kindly go on our separate ways. No harm done.

Stay tuned for Part 2!

Small comforts

2010-07-06T19:25:00.002-05:00

There is something blissfully comforting about curling up on the couch with a cold glass of chocolate milk, turning the TV on and flipping it to Friends, knowing that whatever episode it is, I can probably recite line for line.

It's the little things, really.

RIP, eHarmony

2010-06-26T13:14:00.004-05:00

Yup, you read that right. I closed my account on eHarmony. Because $60 is a lot to pay for one month and even though the monthly payment gets cheaper if you opt to do it for longer ($20/month for one year), it still adds up. I have insurance to pay for. And you know, food and stuff. A roof over my head. Frivolous things like that. I don't think I would recommend eHarmony to anyone, but it was an interesting experience nonetheless.

Anyway, I haven't had a "Hearing Aid" segment for a while, so here are a couple of thoughts:

On Vulnerability: I'm not a big swimmer. I mean, I like splashing around in the pool some, but I'm not crazy about getting wet (outside of baths and showers, that is). And I also am uncomfortable with the vulnerability that comes with not having my hearing aids in when I'm in the pool. Because without my hearing aids, I can't hear anything whatsoever at all (except for really, really high pitches. And my brother's band, apparently). I know D/deaf people do it all the time, and I'm amazed at their strength to go through life with absolutely no hearing. If that day ever comes for me (like if I lose even more hearing as I get older), I'm confident the Lord will keep me and I am thankful that I do know sign language and that the Lord has blessed our generation with such an abundance of technology - new ways of communicating are cropping up all the time! But for now, I find my hearing aids bring me more independence and even joy... there are sounds I would miss if/when I lost all of my hearing. Like music. How do people live without it? I think I also use auditory cues more than I realize. Like at work, I can hear the printer whir two cubes over. So when I print something, I listen to make sure the print job got sent and I listen for the whir to stop, too, so I know when it's done with my stuff.

On Technology: I expect to lose all of my hearing some day. I went to the audiologist a couple of years ago and he said that I had lost ten percent of my hearing since the last time he tested my hearing, which was ten years before that. I don't think about that reality very much. I often assume I'll be old and knocking on Heaven's door before hearing aids are no longer useful to me, but I can't know that for sure. So in the meantime, I try to be more careful and protect what hearing I do have. I try to keep my TV and stereo at reasonable levels and turn off my hearing aids altogether when I'm in exceptionally loud situations.

Every now and then, I think about getting a cochlear implant, and while the idea is less frightening to me than it used to be, I'm still wary. I mean, they drill a hole in my head! I had a friend who got a cochlear implant and she told me it took three years before she was comfortable with the implant and relearning how to hear. Three years. That's a heckuva adjustment period. I'm intimidated by that. I know, I know, the benefits would outweigh all of that. The same friend told me that now she can talk on the phone and carry on complete conversations without having to watch someone else's face all the time. That sounds magical to me. For the record, cochlear implants don't make people hearing. My friend doesn't consider herself hearing now. She still needs to ask for clarification and while she can talk on her cell phone, she only does it with select people that she's learned to recognize (mostly family members, if I recall correctly). So a cochlear implant isn't perfect any more than wearing glasses makes someone suddenly acquire 20/20 vision. Your eyes are still farsighted or nearsighted or whatever, the glasses are just an aid to make things easier. So it is with hearing aids and cochlear implants. They can be a great help, but they don't bring perfect hearing.

Tempting

2010-06-24T22:17:00.006-05:00

I've been reading a few D/deaf blogs lately and I always walk away never quite sure what to think. What I do know is that it is tempting to jump into that kind of lifestyle again. To sign instead of talk or sign and talk and understand and keep up. To commiserate with those who struggle with hearing loss in a hearing world. To feel like part of the group. It's tempting to think that will bring satisfaction.

I've been all over eHarmony in the last couple weeks. Most of the time, I've walked away discouraged. I'm far too... traditional? Old-fashioned? Downright prudish? to initiative conversation myself. So I wait. And wait. And wait. For someone else to do it. And when they do, they're... how do I put this nicely? ... not quite my cup of tea. And when I do get matched with someone who is my cup of tea, my hopes skyrocket to frightening levels. It's tempting to think I'll find acceptance there.

It's been a tempting week or two. There's this constant craving to belong, to fit in, to be part of something, to feel included and content. It's tempting to think that things of this earth will satisfy those needs. Tempting to think that I'm in charge of finding my own way on my own, to think that I have the power to do that.

It's tempting to think my problems are only earthly. That all my issues are outside of me and not inside. But the truth is that my biggest problem isn't that I wear hearing aids or that I don't wear a ring on my left hand. My biggest problem is that I'm a sinner in need of a Savior. To paraphrase Paul Tripp, I want to think that my problems are outside of me and the solution(s) is inside of me, that if I just have enough self-esteem or strength of character, I can handle anything life throws my way. But the truth is that all my problems are inside of me and the only Solution is outside of me. All the self-esteem in the world won't free me from the problem inside of me. Only Christ - not hearing aids or rings - can do that.

I know my hope is in Christ alone and frankly, I've been playing that song (In Christ Alone - the Newsboys version) almost nonstop the last couple of days, hoping it'll make my heart catch up with my head. I'm thankful the Lord isn't dependent upon us or our emotions for His truth. What I know to be true is that God is enough. Hearing or deaf or single or married, Christ is sufficient.

I know this, but I battle to know it.

For I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I agree with the law, that it is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me. For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh. For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out. For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells within me.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin.

Romans 7:15-25 (ESV)

It's been one of those "wretched man that I am!" kind of weeks. But it's also been one of those "Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!" kind of moments. Praise God that His truth is objective and our shifting (and sometimes shifty) emotions don't undo it. Praise God that His truth is absolute and not dependent upon changing circumstances. Praise God that He is enough ... even when I don't "feel" like it.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death.

Romans 8:1-2 (ESV)

Praise God for the freedom we have in Christ. Praise God for hope.

City mouse, country mouse

2010-06-19T23:41:00.019-05:00

I live in a suburb, but I'm really not that far from "the city," as we say in these here parts. It's a 10-15 minute drive to get to the midtown and downtown areas of my city. So I don't feel terribly suburban.

Just a few more miles south, though, and we're talking SUBURBS. They're pretty. They're immaculate. They're rich. I used to want to live there. Good schools. Safety. White picket fence. Everything within reach. But the two trips I made down there this week left me feeling a little empty. "What are they hiding," I wondered, "with their wealth and fancy cars and big houses?"

Because we all do that, you know. We hide our insecurities with something. Money. Sex. Power. Work. Drugs. The more I learn about God, the more I realize just how broken and messed up I am. How broken and messed up we are. So I know those manicured lawns and subdivisions - as pretty as they are - are just a front. And I feel deceived, almost. They're messed up but pretending they aren't. And my heart breaks as they deceive themselves.

Contrast that with the city - the urban core. It is raw. It can be dangerous. It is old and decrepit. It's messed up and falling apart. Sometimes it is downright ugly. Buildings in decay. Gang shootings. Drug deals. Unaccredited schools. Broken homes and broken hearts. It is real and my heart breaks for the reality they face. But in some odd way, I rejoice in the real-ness. They seem more willing, in the city, to face things head on, rather than hide from them in the 'burbs.

(And I know you can live in the city and still be hiding from things. And you can live in the suburbs and not shy away from life. I am speaking in extremely general terms only.)

My church is really big on "the good of the city." Every sermon closes with "for the glory of God and the good of the city." I've been having a hard time with "the good of the city" part. Not because I don't desire the good of the city. I do. I'm just cynical. I've lived here my whole life and I wonder sometimes if the church - made up of a lot of people who didn't grow up here - is fully aware of the task ahead of them when it comes to serving Midtown. And I would cling even tighter to my comfortable suburban living, where I live close enough to the city to engage with it, but far away enough to not have to take on the messy task of actually living there. I'm a cheater. It's true.

But what I'm learning is that I can't give up on the city because it seems hopeless. And I can't cling to the suburbs because that's not where my hope is. And the more I learn about myself and who God is, the more beautiful the urban core becomes, for it is a mirror to my own soul - broken, falling apart and badly in need of restoration. And the more beautiful the suburbs become, because they are a mirror to my own soul - empty but full of idols and badly in need of life. God has grace for both city and suburb. And it is a thing of beauty.

Musings

2010-06-16T15:28:00.010-05:00

I like to fantasize about living in NYC someday. Just for a while. Which is why I'm in love with this blog. Seriously, visit it. It's marvelous.

I signed up for eHarmony. It's true. I'm having a love/hate relationship with it right now. It all feels very meat market-y. And I mentioned in my profile that I was hard of hearing. Full disclosure, you know. I think that scares people away. Meh. If God is bigger than the boogie man, then He's surely bigger than this.

Also, on eHarmony, there's a section where I'm supposed to tell what I'm passionate about. Do you know what other people write? Things like ministry and teaching underprivileged kids and staying fit and spending time with their families. Do you know what I am passionate about? Chocolate, friends. Bedtime. Keeping my apartment clean. Figuring out how to stretch a dollar and a meal at the grocery store. Helping people. Mom things. Wife things. How does one convey that on a dating website without sounding like all I want to do is hang out in the kitchen and clip coupons all day? While barefoot and pregnant, of course. :p

My car has been put to good use the last week or so. Between making a Costco run and carting people around the city, Amelia definitely held her own. I'm really so thankful to actually be of use now - a car that's comfortable for people to sit in and big enough (and yes, gasp, uncluttered enough!) to be filled to the brim just seems to open more doors for ministry than a tiny one that I alone can barely squeeze into. Okay, that was an exaggeration. I could fit people into my old car - if you are into that clowns packed into a circus car kind of thing. ;-)

I got a sample of infant formula in the mail the other day. And by "sample," I mean box. As in a small box with one large round container (12.6 oz. Yup, I goggled the heck out of it) of infant formula (the "sensitive" kind, for those with lactose intolerances, you know) and a rectangle-shaped container (1.45lbs. Whoa, mama) of formula (specially fortified with vitamin D, dontcha know?). I'm really just stupefied as to how that happened... somebody, somewhere seems to think I have or am about to have a small child. And somebody, somewhere is severely confuzzled. OR it's a sign from God that I'm to be with child, immaculate-style. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Annnnd that wraps up this post. Thanks for bearing with my random quirkiness, loves!

One month later...

2010-06-13T17:26:00.013-05:00

I was three years old when Jared was born. Grandpa and Grandma took me to the hospital to visit the new baby. When we walked in, I saw my dad at the end of the hall and I ran running into his arms, yelling, "I have a new baby brother! I have a new baby brother!"

I was 27 years old when Jared got married. I had the privilege of standing up with his bride at their wedding. When she came into the back room after the ceremony, I ran into her arms and said, "I have a new sister!"

In His Time

2010-05-13T17:27:00.003-05:00

Our church is going through a series on its core values. So far, we've done truth, worship, transformation and community. This week it was beauty and next week it will be city.

I gotta tell you, I was/am a little stumped on the beauty thing. Everything else makes sense to me. Truth - totally essential. Worship, duh. Transformation - ditto. Community... well, you'd hope a church would uphold community, yes? But beauty? I don't know about that. Beauty as I know it is so subjective. Skin-deep. In the eye of the beholder. I was willing to admit the value of beauty in everyday life but not quite ready to embrace it as a core value for a church.

So I've been praying that the Lord would lay this thing called beauty on my heart and that if there was merit to it as a value, core or otherwise, that He would open my eyes to that truth.

And today I kept thinking about this song we used to sing at my old church. One of the lines went, "In His time/in His time/He makes all things beautiful/in His time." Then I started thinking about what that meant, especially in light of my hearing loss. I had dinner with a friend last night and I was telling her that I was so much more willing to trust the Lord with my friendships (or what I sometimes feel is a lack thereof) and socialization and that I had to come to grips that the life I had in mind for myself (belonging, being part of a regular circle of friends, movie nights, weekend outings, etc) was not the life He had called me to. And then I (embarrassingly) starting tearing up. Dangit, I explained, I'm really more okay with this than my eyes are letting on! :)

So I was just mulling that over today, that maybe the life He has called me to isn't what I had in mind for myself, but that even with my hearing loss, He will make everything beautiful in His time. And that there is a time for everything. A time for friends and a time for loneliness. The writer of Ecclesiastes never specifies just how much time anything should take and I'm grateful. Maybe my time of loneliness is a lifetime and a time of friendship an eternity... in Eternity. But what is so promising about the "Time" passage is that there is a time for everything. If there is a time for tears, then there will be a time for not tears. If there's a time for loneliness, then there will be a time for not loneliness.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-15

"For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:

a time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted;
a time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
a time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
a time to seek, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
a time to tear, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
a time to love, and a time to hate;
a time for war, and a time for peace.

What gain has the worker from his toil? I have seen the business that God has given to the children of man to be busy with. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, he has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I perceived that there is nothing better for them than to be joyful and to do good as long as they live; also that everyone should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil—this is God's gift to man.

I perceived that whatever God does endures forever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it. God has done it, so that people fear before him. That which is, already has been; that which is to be, already has been; and God seeks what has been driven away."

There's a time for everything and I "cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end." His works are too great and unfathomable and marvelous and beautiful for me to comprehend and I can rest in that.

And now, it's time... for dinner. ;)

My week in letters

2010-05-11T14:01:00.002-05:00

Dear Kansas City Police Department: Well done. And thank you.

Dear Wallet: You're looking slim these days. If I haggle a lower rent, do you promise to beef up?

Dear Minivans on the I-35 Downtown Loop during the morning rush hour: Go away. Just... GO. AWAY.

Dear Self: You're really too old to be going to bed at 11:30. I promise Facebook will still be there in the morning.

Dear Butt, Hips and Waist: Congrats on going down one pants size!

Dear Blog: Let's hang out more.

Love,
Lucy

Why are we so eager to pray against suffering?

2010-05-07T10:31:00.004-05:00

Philippians 3:3-11

"For we are the circumcision, who worship by the Spirit of God and glory in Christ Jesus and put no confidence in the flesh — though I myself have reason for confidence in the flesh also. If anyone else thinks he has reason for confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; as to the law, a Pharisee; as to zeal, a persecutor of the church; as to righteousness under the law, blameless. But whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead."

Many other versions phrase Philippians 3:10 along the lines of "the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings."

If we find sweet fellowship with our Lord in suffering, why are we so eager to pray against suffering? Are we not essentially praying against fellowship with Him?

The Thing

2010-04-24T22:37:00.003-05:00

What's your thing?

That was the question posed on today's Stuff Christians Like (stalk it with me, will you? Your life will never be the same). And it's also the same question I've been pondering lately. Jon asks, "What’s the thing that makes you feel alive, that talent or gift or art or activity that feels handcrafted for you?"

My gut reaction is to say kids, but that could be the hormones talking. People are always (lovingly) pushing me towards writing and yes, I like writing. I do. I wouldn't have this here blog if I didn't. I wouldn't have a job in editing if I didn't. But it's not all I feel equipped for or gifted with. I already deal with words, words, words in my day job and during some evenings with the blog. I wish, though, that I was doing more with my life in addition to that.

One of the highlights of my week is babysitting 3-year-old J and his 1-year-old sister, E. UH-dorable. I love watching them grow. J is still learning about sharing and following rules. E has just discovered her tongue and walking. I got J a bubble gun for his birthday last week - he LOVED it. So did E. They were outside playing with it for a while. Then J got bored so E wanted to play with it but she hasn't quite mastered all of the dexterity required for such a skill. ;) A lot of times when I leave their house, I'll hug J goodbye and he runs off. Then right before I step out the door, he comes running back. "I wanna give you a kisth!" E couldn't care less when I leave but whenever I come over, she waddles right over to me with a toy in hand so we can play. I do love those kids.

A lifetime ago, I was on the leadership team for a deaf youth ministry. As I've alluded to before, it didn't end well. At the height of it, I was really in it for myself and not for the Lord and that's never a good deal. But what I did love was the mentoring. I was not a rock star at it by any means, but I genuinely wanted to see the young ladies I spent time with grow up in the grace and knowledge of God. And I wanted to help equip them for the world, for life (which was a pretty presumptuous goal for my 19/20 year old self!). Maybe I wasn't the best person to fill that role at that time because I was so young but since then, the desire to encourage those just a few years behind me never really went away. I'm a mother hen, really. My friends hate me for it sometimes ;) and while I'm learning to scale it back, I don't know how to be anything else.

So despite what I said yesterday, I really do want to be a mom, a wother, a mife. I know myself and I know my sin and I tremble at the thought of filling such roles. They are precious and great responsibilities and so easily confounded by sin. But I always forget that grace is part of the equation, too. It's been hard for me to admit, even to myself and to the Lord, that I want to be a wife and a mom. Maybe because I spent so many years convincing myself that "I don't need a man." I can also be kind of a closet feminist and sometimes worry that being married or raising children will mean losing me. And really, I've never been one of those girls who just alwaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaays wanted to get married and needed romance and flowers and sunshine and long walks to be fulfilled. I'm sure that when/if the time comes, I'll relish the lovey-dovey crap and make everyone around me sick, but honestly, what I'm excited for the most is the partner-in-crime part. ;) The one who's in my corner and holds my hand and doesn't take my crap. The knowing and being known part.

I'm not an idealist. I know marriage and parenthood are hard. So is singleness. There are good things about both and there are hard things about both. There are things you can only learn by being married and things you can only learn from a lifetime of singleness. As a single woman, there are times when I just reallyreallyreally wish I had a husband. And I'm sure that if/when I'm married, there will be times that I will reallyreallyreally wish I was single. Whatever my marital state is, I want to savor the season. I want to savor this season (life? months? years?) of singleness. And I'd want to savor marriage if the Lord called me to it.

So going back to the original question. My thing? Writing and loving on kids. I hope that other things include being a wife and being a mom but if not, that's okay. Because the Thing that all of those things rest on is Christ. If I didn't have writing or babysitting or a husband or kids, I would still have Jesus... and that is the greatest thing of all.

idk, my bff chloe?

2010-04-23T15:52:00.010-05:00

Random fact of the day: My hearing aids used to buzz right before I got a text message. I think they were picking up the signal but part of me likes to think I was just a little psychic.

Hearing aids: Speaking of text messages, let me introduce you to Chloe. Chloe is my faithful sidekick... literally, my Sidekick III from T-Mobile. ;-)

(I got that photo from the internets but you get the gist). I love her. I (obviously) don't have a voice plan (I can't talk on the phone unless it's a CapTel or similar device), but for $29.99 per month, I get unlimited text, web and email. Not too shabby, friends. It seems to have been a pretty popular choice among the deaf and hard of hearing community when it first came out but I'm wondering if improved technology (iPhone, iTouch, iWhatever) has changed things. Anyway, I love my Sidekick and yes, I named her Chloe after the character in 24. I'm a nerd. Just go with it.

Before the Sidekick, I had a Motorola 2-way pager:

Literally all it was good for was sending texts. I was glad to even have that option at the time but I'm so thankful for how far technology has come in just a few short years!

In other news: I feel like a senior in college. Caged, a little burnt out, ready for the next big thing. Except this time, there's no First Real Job to look forward to. No Living On My Own For the First Time lurking on the horizon. Those were the Next Big Things after college. What's the Next Big Thing(s) after those? If you say marriage and/or babies, I'll face palm you. (I'm not saying I'm against either one. I just have trouble seeing myself as a wife or mother. Or as soon-to-be sis-in-law called it once, a "wother." Or a "mife," I suppose. I digress.)

So tell me, friends, is this the elusive Life we all speculated about in college? Going to work, paying the bills, connecting at church, stalking people online? (Maybe that last one's just me. Hm.) In between all of that, making friends, hanging with the fam. To be brutally honest, I'm bored. For now, I'm okay being a little bored since last year was so un-boring, but I'm getting restless for change again. I think spring does that to me.

Twitterpated

2010-04-22T10:33:00.002-05:00

I broke down and joined Twitter. (What? I was bored)

I have no idea what to do over there. Could I be any more narcissistic?

LucyLu007 if you're into that kind of thing.

So long, lovelies.

I can't make this stuff up

2010-04-21T15:05:00.002-05:00

Tuesday afternoon. I'm trying to call the bank. They called me Friday to say that they needed a copy of my registration (I took out an auto loan and so they are listed on the title as the lien holder) with the mileage on it because it wasn't on the one they have. OR SOMETHING. Whatevs. Anyway, I had finally gotten the registration, scanned it and made it a PDF. I was trying to call them back to see if I could just email it to them.

Me: (Ring, ring.)

Bank: "Hi, this is Name."

Me: "Hi, this is Lucy Last Name. You called last week about my auto loan."

Bank: "That's correct."

Me: "Okay, I have a copy of my registration like you needed and I've made it into a PDF. Could I just email it to you? What's your email address?"

Bank: "No, no, no. We need a copy of your title."

Me: (confuzzled) "I don't have my title. You're the lien holder. You should have it."

Bank: "No, the state of Kansas retains the title. We need a copy of your title or registration to complete the information. Do you have the title?"

Me: (you just told me that Kansas retains the title!) "No, I do not have a copy of the title. What I do have is a receipt. I just had to renew my tags this month so I have the receipt from that. Can I email it to you? What's your email address?"

Bank: "No, no, no. We need the title. You do not have a copy of it, correct?"

Me: (YOU JUST TOLD ME THE THAT KANSAS RETAINS THE TITLE) "No, I do not."

Bank: "Well, do you have the registration?"

Me: (GOOD. LORD. Are you on crack?) "YES, I have the registration. I have scanned it and converted it into a PDF on my computer. It's ready to go."

Bank: "Why don't you email it, then?"

Me: (speaking just a little slower than I really need to) "Because. I. Need. Your. Email. Address."

Face, meet palm.

Nostalgia

2010-04-17T21:56:00.004-05:00

Random fact of the day: I think it might be time to retire the random facts of the day. I know that blogs by nature can be narcissistic and I'm pondering ways to make this one at least a little bit less so. And anyway, my random facts of the day are usually just regurgitated Facebook statuses, so maybe I should keep my narcissism in one place. ;)

Hearing aids: You know what's ironic? I actually don't always know how to communicate with other hard of hearing people. Sounds crazy, doesn't it? You'd think I'd know best how to do that, since I spend so much time thinking of all the ways everyone else needs to learn how to communicate with me! I think it's because I don't really know that many hard of hearing people. I'm just now starting to meet more. I've spent my life around hearing people, so I've gotten used to communicating like they do - talking to them when their back is turned, yelling to catch someone's attention, etc. I have to readjust my mindset when I'm with someone who has the same communication needs I do (like not talking to their backs, tapping them on the shoulder to catch their attention, etc). Crazy, yeah, but it helps me see things from the hearing person's perspective and how they might feel trying to communicate with me.

In other news: I'm having one of those weeks where I wish I still lived on the MO side. I have been out there almost every night this week. I like that my world is bigger, that I'm not limited to Johnson County or Merriam or Mission or Overland Park. I'm glad that my world is comprised of all of those plus downtown and Midtown (why do we capitalize Midtown but not downtown?) and Raytown and Lee's Summit and Independence and Waldo and Brookside (why do we refer to Waldo and Brookside like they are cities rather than neighborhoods?) and Ward Parkway (why do we refer to this like a city and not just a street?). I'm glad for all of this. I'm thankful to feel at home no matter what the city limits are. My heart is all over the city, with different memories and people and moments and experiences tying me there.

On one of my MO nights, I was driving to my grandma's house and it was almost literally a trip down memory lane. Road construction forced me to find another path than the one I originally intended and I'm so glad for the wandering. As I drove, I remembered things like: I broke my wrist on that playground. Remember when we did set construction for Taming of the Shrew in that vacant storefront? I learned to drive in that parking lot and now it's a Wal-Mart. Church used to be over there. I used to babysit at that house. Grandpa used to take us to that park.

We didn't have a house on that side of the city - we lived 25 minutes away. I didn't learn to ride a bike on those streets. I didn't sled down their hills or catch their lightning bugs... but I grew up over there just the same.

Food, glorious food

2010-04-10T21:57:00.003-05:00

Random fact of the day: The clothes at the Carter's outlet aren't any cheaper than the Carter's that Kohl's carries. Save yourselves the trip, friends.

Hearing aids: When I'm eating out on my own, I surprise myself sometimes by how often I use my hearing aids to make my culinary decisions for me. For example, I used to loathe food places that required me to direct someone behind the counter how to make my meal. Subway. Chipotle. Etc. It's stressful trying to to juggle the part of my brain that's still in the process of figuring out what I want to eat and the part that's trying to keep up with what the person behind the counter is asking. I've pretty much gotten over this at Chipotle. I have it all memorized. "What can I get for you? What kind of beans? What kind of meat? What kind of salsa? Cheese? Sour cream? Anything else?" (answers would be: burrito bol, no beans, chicken, mild, just a little cheese, lettuce. And chips and salsa. Mild. Please and thank you). See, I've got it down to a science. I mean really, Chipotle is just so heavenly that any communication obstacles I endure are well worth it.

Subway, on the other hand, seems to be primarily employed by the surliest people in America. I don't think they like their jobs there. Anyway, it's stressful trying to keep track of what kind of bread and what kind of cheese and which one of the four different kinds of chicken and do I want it toasted and what constitutes a $5 footlong AND trying to not piss off the person behind the counter by asking them to repeat themselves every time they ask a question. Pass.

I love Planet Sub but I gotta say, not wild about their method of delivery. I like it when we order P-Sub at work because then the order is in one person's name, we all go down (it's one floor below us at work) to pick it up (paying separately) and all I have to do is wait for my co-workers to point to me so I know it's my turn to pay. Otherwise, if you order something at Planet Sub, they give you a card - as in a card from a deck of playing cards - then you have to listen to them call out the card name. Queen of hearts, jack of spades, five of diamonds, etc. Lordy, I can't even hear them call my NAME at Panera much less have to listen to the name of a card. Pass.

And at Panera, if I'm not with a friend who can listen for my name for me, I just watch the food counter like a hawk and grab what I hope is my plate and hope and pray no one else ordered the exact same thing! ;)

I've blogged before about the perils of drive-thrus. But at the end of the day, I figure this isn't a horrible thing. I eat out less because going INTO a fast food restaurant is just too much work and I'm not brave enough to bypass the drive-thru and go straight to the window to place my order. So I cook more or at least I can console myself with the fact that Chipotle is fresher than most other places. All you calorie counters can just hush right now.

In other news: I seriously need a dog. Or a subscription to eHarmony. All this alone doing isn't boding well, friends. I'm thinking about volunteering at a hospital. The application is mostly ready, I just need to send it in. The reasons for the delay are twofold: 1) the application is buried somewhere on my desk and I'm too lazy to look for it and 2) I'm planning to send it in after my brother's wedding. Weekends are filling up fast already with showers and such. Let the festivities begin!

A month or so ago, I decided to reserve a couple of movies at my local friendly Redbox kiosk. But when I got there, the machine wasn't working, so I went to the nearest Redbox down the block and luckily, they had the titles I wanted, so I got them there instead. I emailed Redbox to report the problem and ask for a refund for the amount the debited me at the first Redbox for movies I never picked up. Instead, they sent me four free codes to use. So basically, four free movies. I redeemed two of them this weekend and let me just say I'm glad they were free.

The Invention of Lying - I was expecting more from this one but I just felt kind of angry when it was over. It gave the impression - in my opinion, at least - that religion is a lie and just something we use to make ourselves feel better. And it wasn't that funny, which I thought was odd considering it had people like Tina Fey, Ricky Gervais and Jonah Hill in it. But maybe that humor was just lost on me.

Love Happens - wasn't terrible, just kind of long. The ending was good, but it took a while to get there. And I kept getting distracted thinking about how much Aaron Eckhart looks like Andy Samberg.

Anyone else been watching Parenthood on NBC? Love it. Makes me laugh and cry all at once.

The big question looming over me lately: What do I want to do with my life? Besides take over the world and all that jazz, of course.

Good night, interwebs.

Construction in progress

2010-04-09T23:12:00.002-05:00

Woah. My blog has been all over the place in the last hour or so. Still not happy with the colors. Bear with me.

I went to Columbus this week to visit my cousins. It was so lovely. I am so not ready to be home, to get back to the daily routine. I could easily use another week of vacation. Couldn't we all?

Aesthetically speaking...

2010-04-01T22:27:00.001-05:00

My blog is boring.

Help!

The ones in my ears

2010-03-30T22:41:00.007-05:00

Random fact of the day: Tortillas should come with an instruction manual. #1 should be, "Not safe for toaster ovens." I may or may not have started a small fire last night because I failed to consider this fact.

Hearing aids: A couple of posts ago, Kerrie asked about my hearing aids. Kerrie, I'm not sure if you were asking about my literal hearing aids - the ones I wear in my ears - or if you were using "hearing aids" the way I tend to on this blog, to discuss hearing loss. But I figured I never really mention the ones in my ears so I'll go with that for now! ;)

I wear two Behind-The-Ear hearing aids (BTEs). I wore analog aids for maybe 20ish years, and really, all they did was make things loud. A few years ago, I switched to digital hearing aids (yaaaaay technology) that do a better job of filtering out background noise and helping me zero in on specific sounds. This is what my hearing aids look like:

except mine are more beige. This one is kind of cool because it comes in a variety of colors and designs. I wasn't brave enough to get something that flashy!

These aids have four different programs and with the click of a small button on one hearing aid, I go from automatic to silent (this one is my favorite LOL! I call it my mute button) to quiet to more quiet to music and back again. I don't really know if they're called quiet and more quiet, that's just how I differentiate between them, ha! Anyway, I don't know all the technical differences between the two, but basically, they help in situations where maybe I'm in a crowded room and I'm just trying to listen to the person next to me. Those settings help filter out the background noise and focus on the sounds in my immediate proximity. Other situations could include a noisy office (like computers humming, printers whirring, AC/heating coming on and turning off, and so on), traffic, etc.

The hearing aid photo is incomplete - I don't just wear that thing behind my ear and let the sound leak in. I wear earmolds in my ear that are attached to the hearing aid by a soft plastic tube. You might have to look closely, but I think this photo does a good job of showing the different kinds of hearing aids:

The kind I wear is the second to last (if you are looking at it from left to right). You can't see the mold very well, but oh well. Some people opt to get colored molds - especially popular with kids! But I've seen adults with zebra-colored molds, blue and white swirls, etc. I've always gotten clear ones, but maybe it's time to think about having fun with them... hm. Anyway, I have to get new earmolds every few months. They eventually wear down and will start causing feedback in the hearing aids. I can tell I need new earmolds when they start feeling hard and when the tips are yellow. I can probably go nine months or so before needing new ones and it probably costs about $150 for two.

Kerrie's original question is how do my hearing aids differ from those of her grandpa's. Well, Kerrie, I don't know your grandpa that well, but I see a lot of older people wearing in the ear hearing aids. which you can see in the first four panels of the photo above. I'm not really up to speed on how those work. How do they change the batteries? How do they go in and out of the ear? How do they not get lost/stuck in the ear canal?!

Kerrie's other question was basically, do screeching kids irritate your hearing aids? The short answer is no. Outside of worn down earmolds or tiny, undetectable tears in the tubing (this happens a lot in the summer. All that humidity) that cause leaked sound and therefore feedback, there's not a lot that will cause the aids to go haywire. This was different with my analog aids - if you got too close to me, like to give me a hug or something, you'd probably hear feedback from my aids. These digital ones are a hardier species. ;) But that's not to say that noises don't bother me. Even though the aids are better at filtering noises out, they're not a cure. They're like eyeglasses in a way. Glasses help you see better but they don't cure your eyesight or make you have 20/20 vision. So even with the filtering, I still hear background noise and overlapping chatter and all that. Just like you, I sometimes find that irritating but unlike you, I can't always identify it. It all just blends into a cacophony of noise, and that can be irritating. For example, I was having one of those days at work today where every noise felt like nails on a chalkboard. The noise wasn't any different than any other day at the office, but today, it was just grating on me. So I hit my mute button and lived in blissful ignorance for most of the afternoon. It. Was. Grand!! :)

In other news: During my last (full) year of college, I lived in these apartment-style dorms on campus. One of my apartment-mates and I got into the habit of calling each other Deer-y. Yes, deer as in doe. I've long forgotten how that inside joke got started - some combination of a play on the word "dear" and that wacky college humor, y'know. Anyway, for purposes of this story, I'm going to refer to said apartment-mate as H. Deer. Just go with it. No worries.

Anyyyyway. H. Deer was a very intense Olympics fan, and the year we lived together was a Winter Olympics year. She talked about it for weeks. She was so excited about watching all the events. I listened with a mixture of amusement and confusion. Her excitement was adorable but I honestly could not understand anyone getting so excited over sports. I mean, really... sports and Lucy just do not compute. I had not yet acquired the level of appreciation for the Olympics that I do now. Pretty much anything involving moving or snow was worthless to me.

So this one night, I had been laying on the couch pretty much most of the evening, surfing from one random show to the next. Around 9:45, H. Deer, who had been gone all evening, if not all day, bounced back to the apartment and begged to watch the Olympic events. I don't remember why it was important - she hadn't watched it all day or it was getting close to the end or it was a really really important competition. But whatever, she was just dying to watch just a few minutes of it.

Now me, being the Sheriff of the Universe and all :p, instead of being gracious and relinquishing the remote to her, got all huffy and pointed out that I was here first and there's only about 10 minutes left of my show, so I just want to finish it first. Taken aback, she politely pointed out that I had already been watching TV all night, the Winter Olympics are only on every four years and this was really important to her. Not to be outdone - justice had to be served, after all - I yelled that I didn't understand why this was so important to her and therefore didn't see why she had to watch it right that second.

"Well," H. Deer informed me calmly, "you don't have to understand it. You just have to know it's important to me."

And since I was sooooo mature back then, I threw the remote at her and stormed off to my bedroom and proceeded to tell my roommate just how mad I was at our apartment-mate. "Oh," she said, and went back to her homework.

But from H. Deer, I learned a very valuable lesson. I don't need to know everything all the time. I don't need to know why something is important to someone - I just need to know that it is and seek to serve them accordingly.

I've had a couple of different.... discussions, shall we say, with a couple of different people in the last few weeks. I wish I kept this lesson front and center more often. I think a lot of arguments could be avoided if we all just remember that we don't always need to know that answer to why?. We just need to be.

Is Happy Hour still happy if you don't drink?

2010-03-26T20:24:00.004-05:00

Random fact of the day: When I was a kid, my chores were to empty the dishwasher and to take out the trash. To this day, I would rather clean my apartment from top to bottom than do either of those things. In fact, my clean dishes have been sitting in the dishwasher since Monday. Just go with it.

Hearing aids: I get asked a lot of I know sign language. I do, I just choose not to use it much. I'm happy to let my hands do the talking if I'm conversing with a deaf or hard of hearing person or with an interpreter but beyond that, I'm milking my voice for all it's worth. I don't like to sign because I tend to avoid things that separate me from other people, that make me different. I know, I know, we're all unique (gag) and should celebrate our differences (double gag) but I don't like standing out. I like to blend in.

In other news: I have a sneaking suspicion there's some kind of drinking subculture at... church. I know, right? One girl I met in my small group asked me if I did Happy Hour. I stammered out something like, "No, maybe, sure, what?" She said she'd invite me the next time she and her friends go. Then at church on Wednesday, this guy introduced himself to me and said that "a bunch of us are going to (Bar Name) if you want to join us." And all I could think is, "At 8:30?! On a school night?! Alcohol?! I have to work tomorrow!" I basically said thank you, but not this time. I told him I was still getting over a cold. Which was technically true but not true enough to be a valid reason for not going. The truth was twofold - a) I'm just not that into drinking and b) the idea of trying to get to know people in a dimly lit establishment after struggling all night to keep up with the topic did not really appeal to me. I didn't think it was the right time to dump all of that on him, though!

I'm really not against drinking. If you have a glass of wine with your meal or a beer during a game, what do I care? If you have several and start getting mean and lose your inhibitions or worse, get behind the wheel, then I have a problem. Drinking = ok. Getting drunk = no bueno.

I'm just not that interesting in drinking myself. I will have something mild, like a cooler, ooooonce in a while (I mean, I am talking like once or twice a year here) but that's it. Going out for Happy Hour or to the bar every week doesn't float my boat and here is why:

1) I'm not that crazy about the taste. If it's really fruity, I could probably go for it, but beyond that, ick.

2) CALORIES, friends. Avoid them like the plague.

3) Drinks are expensive! The day after I turned the guy's invitation down, I looked up the bar in question, wondering if maybe I was confused and it wasn't a bar, just a restaurant or something. Nope, definitely a bar. And the drinks were like $9, $11, $7. The cheapest I could find was $5 for a spritzer. (Which I made note of should I ever decide to join them) I would just rather put my money towards something else - Redbox, electric bill, groceries, savings account, shoes, a restaurant I actually like, etc. Alcohol is just not something I want to pay for regularly.

4) Alcoholism runs in my grandma's family. I don't really know where I stand on the whole "Is alcoholism genetic" debate, but why take the risk of becoming addicted?

5) I have an obsessive personality. For instance, if I'm going through some drama with someone - an argument, a disagreement, a personality difference, whatever - I tend to sink my teeth in it and never let go. I recycle old arguments in person and in my head and just can't seem to let things go.(And all my friends and family just looked at me in feigned shock. Go away.) I struggle with my weight because I struggle with food. I eat mindlessly and get cranky when I don't have something delicious stuffed in my mouth. I mean, seriously, have you seen me with a piece of chocolate? It is not pretty. So really, where's the wisdom in putting alcohol in the hands of someone who tends to cling to things and not let go?

This is not to say that I will never, ever, ever, ever drink or anything. I don't mind it once in a while. I just don't want to make a habit of it. Which leaves me wondering now - am I going to be able to make friends at church without Happy Hour-ing?

Meh. I'll just have to entice them with home-cooked meals and good, old-fashioned movie nights. ;)