By Sandee DePriest, appearing as Martha Brewster in ARSENIC & OLD LACE
The last time I wrote, I said that I am learning that you can do more than you think you can. When I realized that my hearing challenges were more than I could overcome in order to perform, I stepped back. Most certainly, I mourned my losses. Nonetheless, these last few years have been joyful. This is not a pity party, by any means. Let me explain some of my challenges and how I have learned to cope.
Yes, I do hear. I hear thunder and music. Thunder is a vibration. Music is discordant, so I usually cannot match a pitch. However, I remember how a middle C, for example, felt in my throat, so I can come pretty close. I hear people talking in a room, but I cannot decipher conversation. Increasing the volume does no good, except to annoy me. I “feel” how the energy in a room changes when someone enters, but I cannot hear it. I cannot hear doorbells, running water, car engines or alarm clocks … and there are funny-ha-ha stories about all of those. I have left the kitchen sink running water for more than just a few minutes – several times. Same for my car. Yikes. Once I left my mom’s garbage disposal running all night. (It didn’t work the next day, but we didn’t have a fire or damage. Thank You for Your protection, dear Lord.)
For awhile, hearing aids helped. However, after about 8 years, they became an expensive, but useless, accessory. The next step is a cochlear implant, for which I have not felt a pressing need, since we have found other ways to communicate and operate in this hearing world. I have a sonic alarm. My husband is not a fan, but it works for me. David installed a couple of flashing-light doorbells in our home. I double-check running faucets, cars and garbage disposals. I have learned to read lips, as well as facial expressions and body language. I have also learned that not everyone’s facial expressions match what they are saying. I have learned that many people do not move their lips to talk. If I can see you, though, I can get a rough idea about the conversation. I grew up over-enunciating in conversations with my mom, because she began losing her hearing when I was young. That works very well. David will tell you that he finds himself over-enunciating with other people because it has become a way of life. It also elicits strange facial expressions.
The game-changer in the last three years has been a setting on my smartphone which provides closed captions for live conversations. Wow! It opened up my world. Even though I am tethered to my phone now more than ever, I can connect. If you have ever seen closed captions on TV, you know they are not perfect. Therein lies a whole slew of humorous misspellings and mistakes. However, being able to be a part of a conversation is huge. HUGE. And this technology has empowered me and given me confidence to step back into the hearing world, off stage and on.
Several other factors have empowered my newfound courage – primarily my family. I have experienced encouragement from friends, and in various groups and ministries. I will share a bit about that in my last installment, “it takes a village.”
Several years ago, when I needed a tangible word of encouragement, I read this quote: “God knows when it is time for you to be seen.” I held onto that and I trusted. It buoyed me and I moved on. I learned to listen – really listen – to other people, and not place so much importance on my own hearing inability. I’m not perfect, for sure. But … well, here I am. I am being seen. How about THAT? I am doing more than I ever thought I could do. And my village is awesome.
