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Accepting My New Disability


 

 

A few weeks ago, I went to an audiology appointment I’d been avoiding for over a year. Internally, I knew I could no longer hear as well as those around me. But my fear of learning this from a doctor kept me from facing the truth. Sure enough, I was told I have sensorineural hearing loss; hearing loss so severe, it’s usually seen only in those in their late 60’s (I just turned 39); and my hearing loss will worsen as times ticks on, necessitating repeated visits to an audiologist – yet another specialist to work into my already overloaded medical schedule! The good news, or so I was informed that day by the doctor, is that I need hearing aids which will allow me to hear typically once again.

But I did not see any of this as good news. It devastated me. I began to cry thinking about having to deal with another regression of my body. I sobbed realizing I will need one more medical device just to have a ‘normal’ day. Tears fell as I contemplated yet another thing that was “wrong” with my body; how “broken” I am; how tired I am with all the diagnoses, medical equipment, modifications, etc. Quite simply, I suddenly missed my old life – before age 28 when my body worked like nearly everyone else’s; where simple, daily tasks weren’t challenging; where intense planning didn’t go into having a simple dinner out with friends or going to school. I was glued to a pity pot and couldn’t seem to stand up and flush!

Two things happened that precipitated my turn around in attitude. The first was a comment the doctor made on my way out. As I wiped away the last of my tears and struggled to get my brave face on for those in the waiting room, he said, “You know, hearing aids are just like your glasses or your powerchair. You don’t realize you need them and may not even want them, but they’ll be life-changing and life-enhancing.” This statement planted a seed for me to ponder later.

Dis acceptance pic The other thing to occur that helped me change my perspective was a post from a friend in the disability community. It was about accepting our disabilities and all that we gain from doing so. It finally clicked in me that everything was fine. I’m not “broken;” nothing’s “wrong” with me; I’m wonderful the way I am with my splints, power chair, Service Dog and soon, my hearing aids. I recalled how I felt at the appointment when I was age 35 – I’d gone in to discuss a prescription for a new manual wheelchair, but my doctor had decided I needed to be realistic and get measured for a power chair instead. I remember feeling devastated. I worried that I’d look like an elderly person in a power chair (you know, because that’s the worst possible thing! Ha-ha!). I didn’t want the power chair but when I finally got it delivered and rolled around in it, my eyes were open to how freeing it was. It’s given me more independence and the ability to better keep up with my young child. I’ve accepted that I need my chair to live in the best way possible and to obtain movement through the world in which I travel daily as an active member of my community. And, speaking of community, I’ll have a new community within the disability community to go to for support, encouragement, ideas, and more and perhaps someday I’ll be able to help another HoH (Hard of Hearing) person.

I messaged my friend, Lindsey, thanking her for her post and telling her about my appointment. It’s something I’ve still not shared publicly even though the shame and devastation are gone. Lindsey’s always encouraged me, supported me and quite frankly, as a fellow wheelchair user, she inspires me. She was Ms. Wheelchair Tennessee 2018 and I enjoyed following her journey. She runs a website and vlog on YouTube which I urge you to check out.

Being HoH isn’t the worst thing that can happen to me. I’ve certainly dealt with worse already. I accept my need for hearing aids and am looking forward to finding out what I’ve been missing all this time. Like my power chair and Service Dog, hearing aids will open doors for me in the areas of independence, dignity, freedom and give me the ability to hear that my disability has robbed me of. 

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