Decision Day - Getting a CI - by Eleanor

I realised yesterday that I hadn't kept up to date with the appointments. As you know, I have been to the assessments and was just waiting to find out if the team to decide if I was eligible to have one...

 On Tuesday last week I had an appointment to meet 'a member of the ENT team'. The end result is that they would like to offer me a Cochlear Implant. It was odd hearing those words, with the idea of actually having an operation seems unrealistic, as if it wouldn't happen to me. "You're on the waiting list now, it'll be up to 4 months" the consultant said, "It'll probably be me or my colleague operating so you might see me again". With that, I left the room armed with a consent form and a letter requesting me to get a pneumococcal meningitis injection for protection. I'd also been given another appointment entitled 'device information' for the following week.

 The 'device information' session was with a lovely rehabilitationist who is actually leaving soon so I probably won't meet her again. Nonetheless she was lovely and walked me through the possibility of colours and battery packs. I decided to go with the sandy beige because it actually goes with my hair quite nicely and I thought if I ever do want to stand out I can always pimp it up myself. With regards to battery packs, I could choose different sizes depending on how long you want it to last as they can be charged up via electricity as apposed to disposable batteries. The CI requires a lot of power which means generally either option doesn't last terribly long. They were only able to order two different batteries so I went with a disposable pack and a chargeable one with shoes on. "You can buy your own if you want anymore" she said, "they're only around £70-£100 each"...

 Then, a few days ago I was emailed with some surgery dates! What a surreal moment, from being prepared for a 4 month wait which is actually only going to be around 3 weeks wait instead. It was like being struck in the chest and you can't breathe because you know something strange (and potentially painful!) is going to happen. But a few seconds later a smile spreads across my face and I know, I know I'm ready for this new chapter. It's been so difficult, especially lately to keep hanging out with people, even people I know and love because I'm so tired all the time. I find myself doing everyday things and wondering what it will sound like with a CI. I found myself on a beach listening to the waves crashing against the pebbles at the weekend and I wondered what it will sound like with my CI. So long have I been astonished and astounded by young children with CIs, secretly jealous of their ability not to have to lipread all the time.. it may not work so well for me, who knows but I'm excited to see.

 After the operation I have been advised not to wear my HA in my operated ear, leaving me with just one HA for 6 weeks before the switch on. It will be a quiet christmas for me, but the more I talk about my concerns, the more my family seem keen to use BSL, even just the odd few signs, which I completely and utterly adore and appreciate. Thank you.

Finding equal access in the strangest of places @ Christmas - by Eleanor

I love equal access, although sometimes when I do get it, I don't want it.

Strange as it may seem but often when I have my communicator in the classroom with me I want to do it all myself. I want to lipread, create a 1:1 situation where the other person feels comfortable, relaxed and not constantly apologizing or trying to find some sort of drama to involve the communicator. The communicator is there to do a job, impartial, unbiased and detached. The awkward moments when people feel they have to apologize to the communicator, I mean, what for? For making her do her job? Those few minutes that it takes to do this, means I'm standing there, concentrating on your lips, wasting my time that I could be cherishing with the children, watching their progress, seeing them grow, learn and develop. Talk to me, please. Would you apologise to me? No. So don't. Don't even think about it. Look at me, talk to me, I have feelings, I'm human and I'm desperate to succeed in life. So please, just help me on my way by treating me exactly how you'd treat others (but also be slightly deaf aware, face me, don't mumble and please don't stand in direct sunlight).

 I love Christmas, and I love spending time with the people that matter, because these are the people who treat me the same as everyone else and always have done. These are the people that I can rely on (sure they make the odd mistake but they are still human too!) and treasure. I went home for Christmas day and my brother was so excited to show me the signs for 'Happy Christmas'. We were in a pub (as you do) and although pubs are generally awful for trying to maintain oral conversations I have my own personal communicator in the form of my mum, who as a mum, always recognizes when you just don't understand. She repeats things, often. We finger spell the odd words. She shows an interest in new signs (even when they don't seem to stay in her mind very long). I didn't feel stupid, I didn't feel excluded and I most definitely didn't feel like an annoyance or a problem.

 In life I choose my friends, I choose who I surround myself with because some people, are just too hard to be surrounded by. It may seem like I'm a bit of a loner I suppose but I'm pleased to say that the friends I do have are the most important and also the loveliest people I've ever had the pleasure to meet. Quite often they tell me that they 'forget' that I'm deaf, but its not the sort of 'forget' that means they switch between emphasizing the lips so much that its no longer comprehensible and mumbling to the point where you wonder if their future job should be a puppeteer. They just 'get it' and that is the most amazing quality in a friend you could ever find.

Present giving is always difficult at Christmas. I've never thought of offering tickets to a play or the theatre because generally it means that I'm expected to go too. I do love the theatre but for me they are a bit hit and miss.
 I recently went to see Cats at the Theatre Royal in Norwich which was subtitled with STAGETEXT. Although I really enjoyed the play I found it was very hard to take in the full contents of the play whilst constantly looking directly to the side of the stage (screens on both sides) to see what was being said. It really is a difficult combination because I love subtitles but maybe I am slightly spoilt with having them at the bottom of a TV screen, skim-reading so fast that I've still got a moment to take in the action, the drama unfurling between every glance.

 This year I offered to buy a two tickets for a friend to a play called The Secret Garden @ West Acre Theatre. I intended the tickets to be for her and a friend of hers but through some misunderstanding she made the assumption I would be the 2nd ticket holder. My immediate reaction was to say no, why would I want to sit through a play that I'd probably only understand about 20% off, mostly due to visuals. Then I thought about it, why couldn't I go? Maybe I could get a communicator or a script to read during the play. So I emailed West Acre Theatre and I was so pleased by their quick responses and willingness to help. They explained the theatre was far too small to accommodate a communicator (this became transparently clear when I went to watch the play) but they would be more than happy to give me a script, and with a small torch I could follow it during the play. Some of my family wanted to see the play too so they came along. When I paid for the tickets they asked me if I could sit in the middle of the group so that they wouldn't get any complaints about the light. This made me laugh, since when has being a family member or a friend meant they wouldn't complain?! Needless to say, they didn't and they were also very pleased by how accommodating the Theatre were being.
  I did enjoy the play. I was sat at the front so I could attempt to lipread most of it but often referred back to the script. It was hard work, flicking between the play itself and looking down at the script in my hand. Earlier that day I'd accidentally caught the film 'The Secret Garden' and wondered if the play would be pretty much the same (and it was very similar). I love the storyline. A girl, Mary sent away to a manor with lots of rooms and gardens, only to find a young 'crippled' boy, Colin who had lost his mother and himself. With the help of Mary who finds a 'secret garden' which had been locked away with the death of the mother Colin finds himself again and realizes that he is not at all 'crippled' and that magic exists in others and himself.

 Thank you so much West Acre Theatre, it was a pleasure to visit you and watch the play. Thank you for accommodating me and for putting on a lovely play, it really means alot. So if in doubt folks, don't be afraid to contact the Theatre directly and seeing what they can do for you - they don't bite!