I was not born hearing
impaired. My mother always provided me
with the same recollection in how I lost my hearing: I had middle ear infections, not unlike any
other child. I did not respond to the
antibiotics and the doctor simply said, “Give the meds time to work.” My mother was adamant that by the time I was
taken to a specialist, it was too late.
I suffered severe nerve damage and the hearing loss was irreversible.
I do not remember much about
losing my hearing, aside from being squirted with the cool, slimy, Pepto-Bismal
colored pink play-doh like material in my ears.
The pink play-doh would form into my ear and ear canal to ensure a
properly fitting ear mold which would attach to my hearing aid.
I do remember my parents being
distraught as the specialist informed them both that I would likely never play
sports, never play a musical instrument or enjoy music, and never live a fully
functional, normal life.
Remember, it was 1978-1979 and
times were very different. My maternal
grandmother insisted to my mother than perhaps the right answer was
institutionalization. There are days
where I feel the need for a padded room at an institution but it has nothing to
do with the amount of hearing that I do, or do not, have.
In recent years, I have
determined that my mother’s version of events is not entirely accurate. Several doctors and specialists have
questioned my medical history and my loss of hearing; however, it was not until
I went to a new audiologist that she gave me the likely version of what
happened to my ears.
It is not typical to suffer nerve
damage due to a middle ear infection. I
was floored to this possible un-truth from my mother, but have since realized
that my mother had a mental illness that allowed her to create her own set of “truths”. My audiologist asked me if I ever suffered
from high fevers as a young child and the light bulb turned on. YES! I
had several febrile seizures as a young child, some that sent me to the
hospital – so it appears far more likely that is the culprit behind my hearing
loss.
Regardless, I focus back on the
ignorant doctor(s) that doomed me to a life of no activities because I was now
hearing impaired. These doctors recommended
I go to a week-long “camp” with other hearing impaired children to learn to
acclimate in my new world. Little did my
parents know, it was a camp for children who were completely deaf and used only
sign language to communicate to each other.
I soon found myself in a middle world – I was not entirely of the
hearing world, nor was I of the deaf world.
I circle back
repeatedly to the prognosis the doctors gave to me when I was five. I have come to realize that I do not like
being told I cannot do something.
Anything. By restricting my
ability, you give me further ambition and drive to set out and accomplish
whatever it is that you think I cannot do.
I have traced this back to my five year old me.
I did play sports; all of
them. I excelled at soccer and then
running. I played the flute from
elementary school until sophomore year in high school (when one time, at band
camp, it was suddenly deemed uncool). I
absolutely love music across any and all genres and I tend to blast my iPod at
an unsafe decibel. I live a fairly
functional and normal life, coupled with a healthy endurance of hearing
impaired jokes at my expense (no, Cheryl, the “Wanna buy a duck” joke is still
NOT funny).
I do not know sign language; only
the swear words and the alphabet (thanks to my friend, Tara). I do read lips, so when you cover your mouth,
intentionally or not (thanks to the Iacaboni boys for torturing me), I may not “hear”
you. I may need you to repeat something
for me, as I may not have caught it the first time you said it, due to the
amount of background noise.
"What did you say?"
However, please know that if you
ever tell me I cannot do something, for whatever reason, you may find yourself
sitting back in awe because I will seek to demolish that limitation you have unfairly
placed upon me. Again, I will ask, but with a very different meaning:
"What did you say?"
I have used this perseverant trait to teach
my children that they are able to accomplish their goals, as well. When someone else tries to limit you, you
take that boundary line and you surpass it. You alone can define what is possible for yourself; especially if you
want something badly enough.
My oldest has recently used this
message and she has used it well. My
strong girl has been confined by others in her most favorite sport for
years. She has been hearing the message
that she is good, but not quite good enough, over and over and over again. We have taught her to use this negative
messaging: keep her head down and to work even harder. Perseverance is a trait that courses fiercely
through our veins.
My oldest has just received an
offer to join a team that participates at a very high regional level and
focuses on prepping players for collegiate and professional play. The opportunity to play at the Elite level is
the precise reward for her continued dedication. My girl has pushed herself to improve year
after year, to discredit the naysayers that kept telling her she was not quite
good enough or she could not play at a higher level.
“She
believed she could, so she did.” The
power in a simple phrase, the ability to believe in yourself so you can
accomplish your goals; it is an undeniable empowerment. Why would we not arm ourselves with a certain
confidence and a belief that we can attain what we set out to accomplish?
With that, what will you believe
in yourself?
What will you do to
accomplish that goal?
