Understanding

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?

Deodorant. Use it. Love it. Embrace it.

Random fact of the day: The ONE day I end up sitting in the same pew with a gaggle of fine young men WILL be the same day I forget to put deodorant on. Reason #284 that I am single, folks.

Hearing aids: Balance. I am pondering and pondering how to achieve this. I do not want to be one of those people who loudly "demands" this service or "deserves" assistance. People, the world is full of souls who are hurting and need help in so many different ways. What makes me any better than them and how highly do I have to think of myself to expect everyone to fall all over themselves to give me a hand when they have their own things to deal with? So no, I don't want to be one of the voices clamoring for attention - I'd rather be one of the hands offering compassion to a hurting world, because I hurt right along with them.

So with that in mind, where's the balance between being honest and admitting when I need help with something and not speaking up because to do so would just be one more thing on a very busy person's to-do list? What do I do in a crowded situation? Do I ask for help? How should I feel if the answer is, "No, I'm sorry, we can't do that right now."? Do I take one for the team and get what I can out of it with limited resources? How do I bear that well?

I'm just one person. Who am I to ask the world to stop and give me a hand? At the end of the day, does it really matter whether I heard every single word of the conversation or just 60% of it? On the other hand, while I'm keeping my needs to myself in order to make everyone else comfortable, I am wondering, "Don't I matter, too?" It's an angry question and a poignant one. Sometimes, I grumble and scream, "What about ME?! When is it MY turn?! Why doesn't anyone ever think of ME?!" Other times, and this is the one I have a hard time explaining to people, I truly am wondering - do I matter enough for people to make adjustments for me? Unless you've lived in my shoes, it's difficult to express how all the itty bitty slights I experience throughout the day or week - people getting frustrated when I ask them to repeat something, forgetting to include me in the conversation or just flat out ignoring me to accommodate their own comfort zone - all adds up to, "You don't really matter. You're not worthy of my time." So once in a while, I do ask, "Do I matter, too? Am I enough a part of this friendship/church/conversation/group that you're willing to put your comfort aside long enough to help me feel like I belong?"

So where's the line? Where's the balance between needing to feel included and needing to put myself aside for the sake of the people around me? Oy. Community is a tricksy, tricksy thing!

In other news: Must. Get. Passport. I've got the travel bug. And I need a traveling companion(s)! Inquire within! I haven't seen much outside the Midwest. Never been to California, the Pacific Northwest or the deep South (Nawlins, anyone?!). Never been out of the country, either, but I'm currently sans passport. So I'm determined to at least see as much of the U.S. as I can this year, vacation days permitting, of course. So far I'm booked for Columbus, OH this spring and maybe Vegas this fall. I'm dreaming about San Fransisco, New Orleans, Seattle and Chicago. We shall see.

Never thought I'd say this, but I'm getting tired of TV. Yep, you heard it here first! Lost excluded, of course.

Peace out, boy scout!