Monday 8 February 2016

Deaf Girly and hearing the weather

Abigail, Barney, Clodagh, Desmond, Eva, Frank, Gertrude, Henry, Imogen...

It might sounds like an alternative version to the Beautiful South song or a poor attempt at NATO phonetic alphabet but it's the UK storm names – makes you sit up and notice the weather a bit more when it's personified I think.

Hearing weather has always been a bit hit and miss for me. I've always heard the low, loud rumble of thunder, but when it comes to rain – the first time I heard that was when I got my current Phonak hearing aids, which you can read about here.

Without my hearing aids, I don't hear rain – so last night as Storm Imogen arrived on British shores, I lay in bed blissfully unaware until FJM told me about it and I took a peek out the window at the amazing volume of rain bouncing off the road outside our place.

Last week it was Storm Henry – and we had the pleasure of encountering him on holiday in Cornwall. The wind was fierce and on one of our walks, FJM asked me if I could hear the noise it made as it whistled through the wires between the telegraph poles. I couldn't. I could only hear the sound it made as it rushed past my hearing aid microphones. It sounded like a jet engine at take off.

Tucked away in our little cottage, FJM also told me about the wind whistling around the walls at night. And of the amazing rainstorm that occurred one evening when we were sat on the sofa watching TV with a G&T – all of them ignored by my ears.

But then on the last day, as we packed the car and got ready for the long journey back to London, I opened the front door to the most spectacular noise of torrential rain. With my hearing aids in, I loved it. Rain bouncing off FJM's car roof, gushing down the street, smashing into the pavement. Loud and clear.

I always find it thrilling when I hear that kind of thing. It reminds me how lucky I am to have what hearing I do have. Although I was less thrilled about being soaked to the skin after just the five-second dash to the car.

And then let's not talk about the unclassified road I directed FJM down – through flooding, breached rivers and fallen trees – en route to a donkey sanctuary that wasn't actually open when we arrived.

Once Imogen has done her thing, we'll be sitting tight for Storm Jake – and when he arrives, I'll be keeping my hearing aids on my bedside table, ready and waiting for the noise he brings.

Happy Monday peeps


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