Sleep walking Deaf Girly

Today, I'm not feeling my usual beamy self.

When I woke up this morning I felt nothing short of exhausted. I had gone to bed at 11pm. Not too late. And had no specific reason to feel so tired. Or so I thought.

Regular readers will know that back in April I starting using a Jawbone UP, a wristband that tracks my steps and sleep pattern by measuring tiny movements. It then transfers this data via the headphone socket on my iPhone to an app.

This is amazing for many reasons. One because it shows me just how sedentary my daily lifestyle can be, but two because when I walk 25,000 steps like I did on Saturday, its very very satisfying to see this in its digital glory.

The sleep monitoring thing however really came into its own last night, because right there in the middle of the blue graphs that depict deep and light sleep was 40 minutes of awake time. And according to the step measure, I walked 273 steps.

I. Do. Not. Remember. This.

So sleepwalking for DG is nothing new. In my previous flat I often woke up in the communal hallway or having fallen down the 4 steps between the bedroom and the kitchen. But never before have I seen actually proof of my wanderings.

What did I do last night?

In my dream, I was in the Waldorf Astoria in New York and I was trying to help someone find their way through a dark and dingy basement. Go figure, huh?

In my dream, I kept thinking about how much I wanted to lie down, but still I kept walking through this dark and dingy basement.

And in reality it appears I was walking though my dark and dingy flat.

But what was I doing?

I have five bruises on my legs this morning. They are corner-shaped ones. The type you get when you walk into the edge of something. Which I guess is highly possible given that even in my dream I believed I was stumbling about in the dark.

Short of installing night vision Big Brother style cameras in my flat, I will probably never know just how I clocked up my 273 steps last night, or just what bit of furniture I walked into.

But it is reassuring to know why I feel quite so tired today. I mean I thought I went to bed at a responsible hour and slept for 7 hours straight.

Now I know about my little walkabout in the middle it makes more sense.

It doesn't make me less tired. But it definitely makes more sense.

I'm now off to Starbucks to order a gallon of coffee.

Happy Monday peeps

DG 

X

Deaf Girly's thankful Friday

Today is Thankful Friday.

My word, that came around quickly.

And today I'm thankful that it's not raining. Because no rain means I can finally wear my curtain coat that Ma made for me last weekend. 

I am sat on the bus right now wearing curtains... as a coat. Eat your heart out Maria Von Trapp.

I am extremely thankful for my talented Ma.

I am also sat on the bus with a huge wedge of Brie in my handbag. A Mulberry with Brie in. Purposefully done so that no one will hopefully suspect the pungent smell of rot will be coming from my bag. 

It. Is. Bad!

So bad in fact, that the woman next to me on the bus is the third person to attempt to sit by me.

One by one they've sat down, got restless, shot me odd looks and then quietly moved away. 

This woman is doing well. She's lasted three whole bus stops so far.

So you might be wondering what a Brie is doing in my favorite handbag. Well, I'm having an impromptu cheese day with my colleague, who is just as cheese nuts as me.

Oop, as I type the third woman has just succumbed to the cheese smell and staggered to another seat.

*blush

Cheese days basically involve vast amounts of erm... Cheese. With bread, salad and salami.

It is the one day in my calendar (I'm lying) where I point blank refuse to accept I have a dairy intolerance and instead get lairy on the dairy. Free on the Brie. It turns out not much rhymes with cheese names.

Anyway, today will be about curtain coats and cheese. And the rents, who it turns out are coming down tonight as we have tickets for summat tomorrow. And guess what? Ma has made me a skirt! From the curtains! To match my curtain coat. I will have a curtain suit. Eat your heart out Coco Chanel!

Hope you're having a lovely thankful Friday.

And if you see me in my amazing curtain coat today, be sure to say hello!

Happy weekend peeps

DG 

X

An extra-deaf day

I left my hearing aids at home again today.

By accident of course.

It's strange – I always realise that I've forgotten them at the exact same moment.

I am always halfway down my street, which has a bend on it, and as I get to the bend, there's usually a slight gust of wind, which blows my ears gently, without  causing the rustle of the microphone, the cool air reminding me that my ears are not filled with silicone moulds.

So today I am back to being extra deaf Deafinitely Girly.

But what does this mean?

Well it means I will be going, 'huh?' a lot. As I seem completely incapable of saying the word 'pardon', which is frightfully rude of me, I know. And it also means that I can stay in my own little bubble. 

You see, without my hearing aids in, I don't hear stuff. The stuff like conversations about the time when someone did something… You know the kind.

With my hearing aids in, I am usually able to at least work it out a bit and decide whether to join the conversation and lipread the rest of it. But without my hearing aids, I can't even work out if there is a conversation happening in the first place.

And today that is just fine.

I find it quite comforting. It's how life used to be.

Recently, I've been feeling more and more that I am stood at this giant crossroads. It's so massive it makes that scary crossing at Oxford Circus where tourists flail about and Londoners stomp over them to get where they're going, seem almost miniscule.

I don't know which way to turn. I don't know what to do. What I want or where to go.

Apparently it's my age. Various people have looked at me recently, sucked in some air and announced that 32 is a normal age to feel this way.

'Feel what way?' I want to ask them.

The scary thing about dawdling at a crossroads however, is that there's a danger that someone will stomp all over you to get past. There's a danger that you might stand there until there's a gigantic Thames Water leak that shuts the road for several months and blocks the path you had be thinking of taking. And there's also a danger that you might actually just set up camp, right there at the crossroads, like that guy with the megaphone at Oxford Circus.

So if you need me today, I'll be at my crossroads. You're welcome to tell me whether you think I should turn left, or right or indeed turn around and go straight home.

I might not hear you though, as my hearing aids are at home today.

I figure though, that it's OK to dawdle a while. Not forever. But for a little while. So I can have a think about what I really want.

Have a nice Wednesday peeps – we're almost halfway through the week.

*beams

Deaf Girly and the amazing new curtain coat

It's Tuesday. Tomorrow will be Wednesday and that means we'll be halfway through the week. How simply marvellous! Eh?

I'm still basking in the warm glow that was my bank holiday weekend – it was aces.

And what did I do?

Well, I reacquainted myself with my Kindle – for 6 hours in the garden – and my rents' amazing hanging chair that feels like it should really be in the 1960s.

I caught up with all the amazing things my rents are doing with their retirement – the music, the baking, the tea cosy making – it's quite incredible that Ma ever found the time to actually do her day job you know.

And on Monday, we made a coat.

A COAT!!

You see on Saturday we went shopping and while in Oxfam we saw some amazing curtains. Covered in a bold floral print they were right up my street – beautiful and slightly mad – and they only cost £11.99 for the pair.

Mum spotted them first and decided they were definitely me, and so that was that. It was decided that we would turn them into something marvellous to wear.

With the day looking less sunny and bright than Sunday, we assigned Monday as coat making day. We dug out the pattern that I had coveted for years from my grandmother's pattern box – a 1973 swing coat design – and set to work.

Five minutes in, and  a scrap of paper fell to the floor – 'Shopping list' it declared in my grandmother's neat handwriting. 'Pop sox, shoes and coat' it stated underneath… a lady clearly after my own heart! I felt quite a pang for Ma as my marvellous pop sox wearing grandmother died more than 20 years ago.

So after a little reminisce about my grandmother and her elegant passion for fashion – this woman took handbag and shoe ownership to a whole other level – Ma set me, a novice in coat making, to work in pinning the pattern, zigzagging the edging to prevent fraying, and covering buttons. All while she started to construct what I can only describe as a masterpiece. 

She altered the sleeves for me so that they're slightly flared and three-quarter length, as this is my favourite style, and she coped with the baffling pattern instructions that had me seeing stars and running off to do useful things like pop the kettle on and lay the table.

This coat is truly the most beautiful coat I have ever seen. And she made it just for me.

It's amazing that for the price of just £11.99 and my amazing ma's time and, quite frankly priceless, creativity, I have something so utterly bespoke and utterly me.

On Friday, I spoke about how Thankful Friday forced you to recognise the good things in your life. For me, the whole weekend did.

And now I have one more good thing in my life – my coat. My amazing Ma-created, bespoke, vintage-pattern, Oxfam curtain fabric coat.

Now I just need some sunny weather to wear it for…

Happy Tuesday peeps!

DG

x

A drink with my (24-year-old deaf) self

Today is Thankful Friday.

I'm thankful there's a three-day weekend ahead of me. I'm thankful that I get to spend this with the rents. My amazing rents.

The sun had better shine because I want cups of tea on the terrace with Ma while whatever amazing new band my dad has discovered blares out of the living room.

I'm 33 this year you know.

And recently, I've found myself wondering what I am actually doing with my life.

Which is silly really because I have an amazing job, an amazing flat and amazing friends and family. 

But sometimes it can't hurt to take a good look at the patterns and cycles in your life. The things which keep happening that you wish you could change.

I'm not meaning to be horribly cryptic either. But while the good things in my life remain good. The not so good things remain not so good. And it's these I'd like to change.

But that's the thing about Thankful Friday. It forces you to look at what is good in your life. It forces you to pull yourself from whatever slump you're in. From whatever it is you think you'll never be able to do, and get the hell on with things.

I mean, I've done this before. I can do it again.

I remember when I was in my 20s, the despair I used to feel at times about my deafness. Sometimes, it used to knock all the air out of me when I tried to work out how I was going to succeed at my career, get my life organised when so much of it involved using the phone or talking to knew people.

It was horrific at times. One day, after a particularly bad day at work, I found myself walking home snivelling as I went. Willing things to be different. Wondering if they ever would be. Wondering if I would ever really be comfortable with the hearing that I had and the challenges that this threw at me.

If my 32 year old self could have taken my 24 year old self for a drink at that moment, then that would have been an amazing thing. She'd have sat me down and told me to get a grip. To power through and trust that feelings like this don't last forever.

And she would have been right.

These days, I rarely have days like that anymore. I'm so comfortable with my deafness that half the time I forget that I am deaf. I'm just me.

So the stuff that's challenging me right now. That's causing the air to be knocked out of me? I think I need to go for a drink with my 42 year old self.

I have a feeling if I did, she's tell me to get a grip. She'd remind me that this is right now.

That patterns can be broken. Cycles can switch paths and life is too short to think about stuff you cannot change.

Have a marvellous weekend peeps.

I'm going to spend it being very thankful.

DG

x

Deafinitely Girly and the mega noise panic

Yesterday did not start well.

I woke up at 4am in the middle of a massive nightmare. A sweating, almost weeping, horrifically real-feeling nightmare.

After calming my heart rate and returning to sleep, my vibrating alarm clock decided to go rogue again, at 5.43am.

And then again at 5.53am.

All of this on a Sunday flipping morning.

I was not impressed.

All this lack of sleep, hideous dream palava left me feeling somewhat on edge yesterday.

I met the Singing Swede for tea and cake which helped and watched mindless rubbish on the TV.

But alone in my flat it felt as though all my senses were heightened.

I made dinner and to me, the oven sounded like a jumbo jet at take off. The people in the upstairs flat returned home and to me it sounded as if they were performing River Dance in the room above my head.

But perhaps the best one came when I heard a siren. I'm quite new to sirens, only really hearing them properly for the first time since I got my hearing aids. Before hearing aids, I could hear bits of sirens. And I could really only hear them when they were right beside me.

And when they were right beside me, the shock and vibration usually made me lose my balance and fall over. Yup, I actually used to do that in public.

But last night, I heard a siren. What I think was a fire engine. It started quietly. Then gradually it seemed to get louder and louder and louder and louder. So loud in fact that in my sleep deprived, slightly-paranoid-from-nightmare state, I decided that a siren that loud must be right outside. So to pre-empt the flames that by now I was convinced were licking at my front door I grabbed a jug of water.

And then I peeked out the window.

Nothing.

The siren was getting quieter. It's vehicle speeding off into the distance towards something that actually was on fire.

My heart was hammering.

I felt a fool.

I was stood in my living room holding a jug of water.

'Get a grip!' I chided myself. Then chided myself again for talking to myself.

I calmly (hands shaking water dangerously close to my TV) watered the yukka plant as if that was what I had intended to do all along with the full jug of water I'd sloshed around my flat in the panic of hearing a siren so loud and clear.

It's the first time I'd watered it in months so it was probably a good thing.

But what it got me thinking about as I climbed into bed later - sans hearing aids, sans the sounds of the planes, which last night sounded like roaring dinosaurs and sans the sound of the pissed people staggering back from the pub, pink and burnt from the five seconds of sun we'd had yesterday - was how if I'm honest, I'm not always a mad fan of this sound lark.

I mean I thought I was a complete convert to it, and don't get me wrong, I do love being able to hear more. But last night, everything was horribly loud. Horribly intrusive. And horribly scary at times.

So for the minute I think I'm going to try something new. When I get in each night, I'm going to take my hearing aids out at the door.

I'm going to make my flat, and my evenings, quiet zones. I'm going to back to watching my TV on low with subtitles. And I'm going to stay reassured in the knowledge that if my flat does set itself on fire, I will be alerted by the visual disco of lights and thumping vibrations all courtesy of the London Fire Brigade long before they arrived in their siren-blaring fire engine.

That's my world. And right now I miss it. At home, any way. Aren't I lucky I can get it back?

Have a lovely week peeps.

DG x

A very Thankful deaf Friday

Today is thankful Friday. It's been a while since I've done one of these blogs. Or indeed blogged at all.

I've not been on top DG form if I'm honest.

But that's life isn't it. And that doesn't mean there's nothing to be thankful for.

So today I'm thankful that despite getting soaked on my morning commute today, the sun has now come out. Albeit with a few menacing clouds in the sky threatening to turn my hair into a frizzy mess once again.

Today I'm having a quiet day. My hearing aids are in a box in my handbag as I haven't got any meetings and the office is empty for a variety of reasons. I'm loving it. If I sit very still, I can hear the faint low hum of the air conditioning – usually a massive sound with hearing aids – and apart from that, just the door shutting as people go up and down the corridor. 

I can't hear voices at all. There are no voices. Although perhaps it's because it's lunchtime and everyone is outside lapping up what vitamin D they can get.

I know that my keyboard is probably making a terrible tapping sound but I can't hear it. I know that all around me there is quite possibly a gaggle of phones all ringing to be answered. But I can't hear them. I know that outside my office there is likely to be a blue-lighted vehicle with its siren blaring passing by every few minutes, but I can't hear them either.

It's wonderfully quiet.

Some days I need that quiet. I need it because I'm still not used to having all this sound in my life. I still find it overwhelming. I still find it exciting. But often I find it utterly exhausting.

How do hearing people cope with all this noise day in day out?

Is it exhausting for them?

And what is it about sound that I find so utterly overwhelming?

As a child, I hated fireworks. They hurt my ears. The bangs were so loud they made me cry.

Crying as a result of loud noises was a natural reflex for me. When people shouted down my ears, I cried. When anything loud happened, I cried. It was as though my body didn't know how else to process this massive sound overload.

But thankfully I grew out of that.

However, recently I've felt a lot like crying. The noise on the bus. The noise on the tube. The noise in the tourist-tastic areas of central London. The general hustle and bustle of the city. The shouting from the downstairs flat, the clamour of the TV, the radio, the sirens, the motorbikes. It's all just got too much.

So on this Thankful Friday, I'm thankful that I've got the option to make it go away. I can take my hearing aids out. I can put them in a box. I can put those thoughts and feelings in a box too and I can get back to the important things in life. In my life.

Wishing you a wonderful Thankful Friday peeps.

DG

x

Leaving my hearing aids out

Today is Tuesday, except it feels like Monday. Yesterday felt like Sunday, and as I have Thursday and Friday off work, I predict that by next Monday I will be utterly confused and only able to function if my Filofax is superglued to my hand.

For example, tomorrow I have a hair cut. It is a very important hair cut as on Saturday I have a very important wedding. Not my wedding of course. But I am chief bridesmaid and so need to look respectable. Right now, I look like an unkempt terrier. This is not a good look.

Anyway, on account of the days of the week all switching places, I thought my haircut was today, which would have been fine. Tomorrow however is NOT fine, as I have a load of meetings in not London.

Are you lost yet? Good, because that means I've got company.

So, as I was saying, basically I need to fit in quite a lot of stuff into this week, which isn't a week, which doesn't start on a Monday and which, at some point needs to involve a hair cut.

Regular readers will know that in my last post I was a bit glum about my hearing aids. I realised how dependent I was becoming on them and felt guilty that I wasn't enough the way I was.

Well as I write this, I am not wearing my hearing aids. I have not worn my hearing aids for three whole days. This is mainly because I have run out of batteries, but it's also because I fancied a break.

You see, I love that my hearing aids help me in my day job. I love that they make everything easier to follow. I love that, when my hair is tied back, they effortlessly raise awareness of my deafness. They act as a reminder that I need to lipread and that sometimes I might get completely lost in the middle of a meeting.

But when I am off duty and the company of people who know me better than anyone, I have decided to go hearing aid free. This means that at weekends, I'm going to be the old me. I won't hear the ringtone on my iPhone, the door buzzer, or be able to look down and still have a vague idea of what's going on on the TV. And this is alright.

I think that's the important thing here, too. Keeping in mind that my old world was alright. OK, so when it comes to my day job it was not alright. Hearing aids are invaluable here. But the rest of the time? Well, they can go back in their box.

Give my ears room to breathe.

And aren't I lucky to have that choice.

But now, it's Monday (Tuesday morning) and I have a manic week (2 days) ahead to fit in five days worth of work. So the hearing aids are going in once I have located some batteries.

Have a good one peeps.

DG

Deaf Girly and her hearing aids

This weekend has been amazing. I've had Miss K staying don't you know as it was her hen do.

I was half in charge of organising this, along with the Mountain Climber and luckily, it was a complete success.

Aside from that though, for me it was a little bit bittersweet, as I realised just how deaf the non hearing-aid wearing me was... and the fact that I actively decided not to be that person anymore still breaks a little bit of my heart.

Which is of course ridiculous, but then this is me we are talking about. So let's start at the beginning shall we...

On Saturday, we went to a spa for the day. There were six of us and we all went to have a treatment before enjoying the sauna, hot tub and pool.

Given the fact that I am insanely accident prone, I decided to take out my hearing aids from the start while still in the changing room, to make sure there was no way they'd end up floating in the jacuzzi or dying of stream inhalation.

Immediately, I lost all idea of what was going on. Who was talking to who. Where sounds were coming from.

'I don't remember it being this bad,' I found myself thinking.

We went in the jacuzzi. Over the sound of the jets, I couldn't hear anything. I didn't know a lot of the people there either so they didn't lipread easily.

'I don't remember this so much either,' I thought.

I went for my massage and they turned down the lights and I realised I couldn't follow anything.

'Was it always like this?' I wondered.

I mean sure, I remember the frustrations of being really deaf. Heck, this very blog is evidence of that. And even with my hearing aids, it's not like I can hear everything. It's not like everything's perfect.

But I yesterday I realised what was making me feel sad was that I missed the old feeling feeling not knowing what I was missing.

I always used to laugh at people who asked me what I could and couldn't hear, because honestly, if you can't hear something, you're not going to be able to tell someone about it as you won't know it exists.

Yesterday however, I was acutely aware of what I couldn't hear. You see, I forget that I used to not even bother to try and follow conversations and just go into my own world in group situations. I never realised that I could be included. But with my hearing aids, I am included. I follow group conversations more, I expect to know what's going on, so when I am without them and I don't, it's a shock.

Tonight, I walked into my bedroom, took off my make-up and took out my hearing aids. The sound of the water running in the bathroom vanished. The hum of the traffic outside vanished. The audible light in my world vanished. And rather than running around my room in a panic like a headless chicken - as I once did after taking my hearing aids out - I just felt sad.

I felt sad that the original Deafinitely Girly wasn't enough for me. That I'd spent 32 years of my life coming to terms with being that person and then suddenly changed her.

I don't like my world without my hearing aids now. A world I once proudly defended to all audiologists who tried to change that.

I accept that my world with hearing aids is better. Things happen that I know wouldn't have otherwise.

So why do I feel so sad?

I know I've got to make peace with my old world, and the old Deafinitely Girly, and accept that this is my world now. A world that's noisy by day and quiet by night. As one of my mates said recently, 'Some people would pay good money for a world like that!'

And she was right, they would.

I'll find my way. I'll work out how to let go of the past. And I'll just have to get less clumsy so that on the next spa day I come on, the hearing aids can come, too.

Happy Monday peeps (or Sunday if you're reading it as soon as it goes up)

DG
x

Deaf Girly and the vibrating alarm clock

Last night, my vibrating alarm clock went rogue.

*pauses

Gosh, that sentence sounds so much worse than it is.

With a spate of early starts recently, I'm relying on this little gadget more than ever to shake me from my, quite simply, comatose slumber in order to make sure I can fit the maximum amount of stuff into my day.

On Wednesday morning, it failed. Luckily my three back-up iPhone alarms did not, but these go off in sequence 10 minutes later then my vibrating alarm clock, meaning I was behind schedule.

Last night, after a gentle text reminder from an ace mate, I changed the batteries on my vibrating alarm clock to ensure there was no chance of it not going off, but just to be safe, I also set four iPhone alarms.

Excessive?

Perhaps but let's not underestimate my need for sleep right now.

So the alarm was bright and alert with its new triple A batteries in meaning I could go to sleep safe in the knowledge that I'd be shaken awake at...

3am?!

Hmm yes, my alarm clock was having a laugh but it went off, almost as if it was chuckling 'haha! Got you!' at me in the process.

Sitting up in bed, checking every clock in my room (my twitter followers will know that most clocks in my flat don't work) I struggled to work out what had happened.

I then lay down and went to sleep until...

5am!

when my little alarm clock woke me up. This time around, seemingly laughing its head off...

Angry and tired by this point, my stealth-like arm shot under the pillow and hit the off button before resetting the alarm for 6.03, which let's face it sounds so much better than 6 flat, and tried to go back to sleep.

I slept through 6.03. Indeed I slept through until 6.11 when my trusty iPhone bounced away on my bedside table. As I checked the news online, I waited for my alarm clock to shake.

Nothing.

Then finally, at 6.43, when I was showered and had hearing aids in, I heard a strange low purring sound. Following it, as best I could, I tracked it to my bed, to under my pillow, to find my alarm clock, going off...

Smugly...

Pah!

Tomorrow I have to be up super early.

I have an out-of-London meeting.

*beams

There's no maximum number of alarms you can have on an iPhone? Right?

*puts alarm clock in the bin

Wanted! Some ears...

Today, on the first Thankful Friday of February (pinch, punch etc etc ) there's one thing I'm very thankful for. And that is that Pa is out of hospital and on the mend.

This time last Friday, when I met The Rents and Big Bro in Southampton before a wedding, he was anything but on the mend, suffering from a bad chest infection and in pain from falling backwards down the stairs two days before.

Pa and weddings do not go well together and usually involve hospital trips.

This time he missed the wedding reception - an amazing extravaganza of a meal in the most gorgeous hotel.

*sniff

But like I said, he's on the mend.

So what else am I thankful for?

Certainly not my latest car insurance quote - almost £700...

*gulp

People of London, is this normal for a 1ltr tiny 8 year old car that drives 2,000 miles a year maximum and lives on a leafy street in west London?

My fab Facebook friends who live elsewhere in the UK have all told me theirs are all half that, even though they drive much flashier cars and use them for things like commuting.

*sniff

So is it just the London postcode?

Or is it because a woman reversed into my car when I wasn't even in it and her insurance company paid up without even questioning it?

I wish I knew.

I wish I could call and find out,

But I can't, so I'm going to recruit some ears to find out for me... Providing the insurance company will talk to someone else on my behalf.

Nearly £700...

*tuts

Happy Friday everyone

DG

Hearing in my dreams

Last night I had the worst dream...

It was possibly worse than when I dreamt I ran over and killed Kylie Minogue on my Raleigh Apple bicycle aged seven, which was probably brought about by the excitement of receiving the former's album in my stocking that year and finding the latter propped up against the Christmas tree on running downstairs that morning.

Anyway, this dream sadly was nothing like that. In fact recently I've been going to bed at 10.30pm and waking up at midnight, usually standing up, in a totally different room.

Two night's ago, i found myself in the kitchen. My dream had been about making toast. Thankfully I hadn't actually made toast.

But last night, I was lucky I didn't wake up in the middle of the street as I had a dream that a rogue policeman was in my house. In a scene worthy of a tense made-for-TV thriller (I know my imaginary limits here guys) I had let him into my flat before realising he was a dodgy cop. He was in the bathroom, I was behind the lounge door, wondering what to do. And then I made a dash for it - except it's quite hard to dash through my front door as it's got more locks than Fort Knox. And thank goodness it has, as otherwise, like I said, I might have found myself in my Primarni onesie making a complete spectacle of myself in west London.

Instead I woke up running across my bedroom. Running!! In a onesie. In my sleep. I can barely run when I am awake. Does this mean I actually run better in my sleep?

This sleep running away from the dodgy policeman was all going very well. In my dream I'd pegged it down the street, which didn't look like my street, to where a man was building walls with the plan to ask him for help. Except I didn't manage to get to him because I woke up, mid-stride, heart racing, after standing on an upturned plug.

Cue much hopping around the room, while trying to get a grip on the reality of the situation - me, now awake, in a onesie, foot hurting, but safe in my flat with no rogue coppers about.

'It must be time to get up,' I thought.

It was midnight.

'I must got back to sleep,' I told myself.

But my brain - working full speed on adrenalin - and foot - rather cross about the upturned plug - had other ideas.

As I lay awake, thinking over the dream, I remembered that in it, I hadn't been deaf.

This sometimes happens you see.

In my dream, I'd spied on the police officer through the crack in the lounge door. I'd heard him on his radio, listened to his chat, realised he was dodgy as hell and had a shouted conversation very successfully with him between rooms with absolutely no lipreading.

Brilliant huh?

But as I lay there in the muted silence if my bedroom, I couldn't help but feel happy for the peace and quiet. No hum of traffic, no shouting from the idiots at the pub down the road, nothing. No real hearing as such. Hearing aids safely on the bedside table.

Just me, and silence, and my bloody throbbing foot.

So tonight, dear brain, if you're gonna dream, could it at least be a good, non-scary one please? Maybe set on a beach in the Caribbean?

That would be aces.

Have a good day peeps

DG
X

When people are my ears...

Yesterday I locked myself out of my bank card.

Stupid? Yes! Very.

The company is it with have a live Internet chat service so I logged in and got a chat person instantly.

'How can I help you?' he tapped.

I explained the situation and that I was deaf so couldn't call to sort it out.

''Ive made a note of your deafness on your account,' he said, 'Brilliant!' I replied before asking him about my locked bank card.

And guess what he answered?

Yup, he told me to call a number to speak to someone to have my bank card unlocked.

I sat there, rereading our live chat on my screen, wondering how, when it was written twice for him, and he'd just made a note of it on my account, he thought me calling up was an option.

I pointed this out, as politely as my angry hands would allow and he informed me that anyone could call for me. Anyone huh? That didn't sound right.

So Art Man picked up the phone and rang. He explained I was deaf, he explained I'd stupidly locked my bank card and he explained that I was sat right beside him. The person refused to help.

Not prepared to give up, he requested a manager. He explained it all over again, he reiterated the fact that he could put me on speaker phone and relay the conversation by mouthing it to me. He was met by reluctance. So he went through it all again.

Eventually the manager agreed to put the phone on speaker and she asked me my security questions with Art Man relaying them to me. She asked me if I gave him permission to speak on my behalf and I confirmed, acknowledging that the flip side of this is that in theory, card fraud should be quite difficult.

After about 10 minutes the card was finally unlocked. She'd also given us an address where I can send a letter to authorise a person to speak on my behalf. It's that simple. You just send a letter.

That doesn't seem very fraud proof...

It was a hassle, but it was 10 times less of a hassle than it usually is because I had one of the most proactive, won't take no for an answer people being my ears.

Hurrah!

But it also reminded me what a complete inconvenience all this is. So much so that I know I've been on the wrong British Gas tariff for three years because I can't face the nightmare minefield of calling them to rectify this. I've emailed them to explain this and they always reply with 'Call this number and we will help you right away.'

Now I know I could use a text relay service (is that what its called? I really should know) but I don't know how to, and I'm cross that this is the only option. And whenever I look into it, my brain shuts down in the same way it use to when I tried to learn long division at school or work out force problems in physics.

I need to see if this is a viable solution to my problem, but I'd also like to see another solution - an email solution.

I know there are fraud issues and all that jazz, but how do they know its really Deafinitely Girly on the phone either?

Maybe they could have a Skype line so I could lipread the person I was talking to, or even better, a simple online way of getting your tariff changed or card unlocked.

All I know is right now is I'm in my 30s and I can't do everything on my own. I can use a hammer drill, I can buy a flat, I can decorate it and build flatpack furniture. I can drive a car and, well the list is endless, but I can't get the right British Gas tariff. I can't unlock my bank card. I can't make a GP appointment unless I employ someone to be my ears and I can't even call a taxi.

I have no idea what to say to that...

*goes off to google text relay or whatever it is*

NHS deaf update

Sometimes there really is no pleasing me, and this morning I couldn't help but feel disappointed that there wasn't even so much of a frost greeting me when I opened my blinds and peered out.

I have a feeling I may regret saying this when a snowy chaos descends upon central London later, but like I said there is just no pleasing me!!

Actually that's not entirely true, because today is a very Thankful Friday. Indeed, yesterday I got word from the Central London Community Healthcare bods that there are now vibrating pagers in Parsons Green and Edgware Walk-in Centres so that deaf and hard of hearing peeps know when it's their turn to see the doctor or nurse.

All that blogging worked!

*beams

OK, so there's still lots that could be improved upon, but isn't this an indication that things are changing? That you don't necessarily have to go the old way of doing things anymore? That people are willing to listen and change stuff... If you ask them nicely of course.

Stroppiness and endless criticism isn't going to make them want to change stuff is it?

So yesterday when I heard the news,
I immediately wanted to go and try the pager system out, except I'm not sick. That was last week and even then if if had turned up at the walk-in centre with my untreatable flu virus cold thing, I doubt they would have greeted me with open arms.

So this is a call to action for west London and Edgware bods - can you please, if you need to see a doctor urgently, consider my two vibrating pager locations and let me know how you got on? I don't want to wish anyone sick, but I'm like a child on Christmas morning about this development!

*beams

In other news I am also thankful for Orla Kiely who has created a wool blanket more efficient than any other blanket I've ever encountered.

Last night, in my freezing flat (up yours British Gas) I threw this blanket over my bed and hopped in and I was kept toasty warm all night with the help of a hot water bottle and fleecy onesie. This gigantic blanket is a magic and welcome addition.

I was tempted to try and fashion it into some sort of scarf this morning but considering its the size of a double duvet, I decided that might by pushing it even for me.

So instead I'm on the bus hugging my hot water bottle (concealed in a cotton bag for all the judgey people) and beaming at the vibrating pager development.

Happy Friday peeps

DG x

Missing my old deaf world

Another day, another blog about how cold it is. Another journey to work wearing my blanket in lieu of a scarf.

I'm actually typing this while trying to breathe breath rings on the bus it is that cold. Thankfully I am wearing my iPhone friendly gloves, which I got for Christmas (thanks Ma), and these mean I can type without my fingers turning to icicles and falling off.

Anyway, this week I've been struggling to hear. I don't know if its my cold gumming up my right ear or if the hearing aid is packing up but something's not right, and I don't like it.

Taking time off work to get them looked at isn't really something I want to do at the moment either so it leaves me with two options - I can either wait until this cold has completely gone and reassess, or I can take them out and go back to the world I used to function very well in.

The problem however with the second option is that I don't like that world anymore. And I can't for the life of me work out how I coped in it.

*bursts into tears*

This is exactly what I didn't want to happen.

I love my hearing aids and can't imagine not having them now, but when they're not working its like I am trapped between a rock and a hard place.

I'm trying to pull myself together about missing my old world. I mean if you translate it into a wearing glasses situation it's a no brainer. I can't see anything without my glasses but that doesn't ever mean I'd do without them so that if they broke I wouldn't feel so devastated to go back to my blurry world until they were fixed.

But I think it's just because I fought so hard to like my world without hearing aids. I spent four years blogging about it for heaven's sake and I spent a great deal more believing there simply wasn't a hearing aid that could enhance my life.

There is no easy solution to this. I know I will gradually come to forget my old world even being a viable solution to getting by and I will find the time to take off to get my hearing aids checked if things don't improve.

I will also just have to tell everyone I encounter that I'm having an extra deaf week and could they please speak up a bit, while I crank the volume of my aids up and strap my TLoop system to my head to get it as close to my aids as possible. Yes I will do all of those.

And then I will sleep. Lipreading is exhausting. Before my hearing aids, it was basically all I did. Since my hearing aids, I've had some respite from it.

Yesterday after three hours solid of meetings,I came back into the office where Man With Sweet Tooth asked me a question.

I looked at him blankly and asked him to repeat. He did. I still looked blank.

Three goes later and said in several different ways, I eventually got what he said. Mental huh? My eyes had literally given up translating for me. They'd gone on strike. And who can blame them.

As I closed them last night, I repeated something that's becoming something of a mantra for me right now, 'it's ok you're deaf, you'll get better at this.'

And it is and I will.

But for now I'm going to rest my eyes on the bus. With my ears slacking off, those cat-from-Shrek peepers are on duty today - ready and waiting to lipread my world.

Happy Thursday peeps

DG
X

Deaf Girly in winter

Ok, so this morning I woke up to the beautiful sight of snow scattered over west London.

From the comfort of my onesie while stood against my radiator, it looked beautiful.

I turned on the TV. Snow it seems is the apocalypse. The news was reporting that world was going to stop working bit by bit, starting with public transport.

Winter has arrived, I thought to myself as I threw on my thermal tights and contemplated the contents of my wardrobe.

Bugger.

However, it's not really winter that I have a problem with. I like snow, and air so chilly it freezes your nose hair off. I just dislike being cold.

I dislike being the kind of cold where your joints hurt, fingers go red, and all you want to do is curl up sleep on the very freezing pavement you can't will your frozen feet to move down.

I hate it.

So this winter I have a plan. I'm going not to get cold.

This plan starts at my feet - sheepskin lined boots, goes up my legs - thermal tights, into my outfit - 8 layers, and then finishes with my coat - long and wool, followed by a blanket, that I am wearing as a scarf.

'A blanket as a scarf?! Who does that?' you might ask.

And the answer is me.

And the next answer is 'yes, it bloody does work and I love it.'

This morning, I wrapped my cashmere wool blanket around my neck before leaving the house. Topped with a fleece-lined hat and some elbow-length gloves.

I have no idea what I looked like because I couldn't see out from the swathes of cashmere and wool.

I walked to the bus stop.

I was warm.

My toes were warm.

My knees were warm.

My body was warm and most importantly my head and neck were warm.

It was amazing.

People stood shivering at the bus stop.

I was warm.

And now I'm safely ensconced on the top deck and...

Crap.

I'm melting.

I'm like the John Lewis snowman now Christmas is over.

I'm wearing a cashmere/wool blanket on public transport for goodness sake. Public transport that is so packed I have no room to lift my arm to even think about removing one of my gazillion layers.

So it's back to the drawing board.

But in the meantime, from my seat on the bus where I am radiating enough heat to warm a small cottage in the Yorkshire moors, I wish you a very happy Monday peeps!

DG x

A very thankful (deaf) Friday

Hurrah! It's Friday and I've made it through the first week of my new job, albeit with a lot of Lemsip on the side.

And for that I am very thankful.

I am also thankful for good advice.

This week has thrown up all the usual issues that a new job throws up, but for me, it's also thrown up some deafness-related ones. 

You see, the longer I am in a job, the less I am reminded about my deafness – the flipside of this being, in a new job, I am constantly reminded about my deafness. 

As I get to know the role and the company, I gradually put in place coping mechanisms and develop ways of doing things that make my life easier and also help me to follow what the heck is going on.

A new job changes a LOT of that.

This week, I had a bit of a wobble. A deafness confidence crisis that maybe I wasn't going to be great at my new job if I couldn't hear. It was horrid. It involved tears, on the Victoria line platform, in rush hour.

And then Art Man brought me back to reality.

He reminded me that he once asked me if I wished I wasn't deaf. And, as I remembered the moment he asked me that and I also remembered how quickly I gave him my answer.

I didn't even think. I just said 'No'.

It's true. I don't mind not hearing. OK, so it can be challenging but it has also shaped who I am, and sometimes I think for the better.

Then he reminded me that I would do a good job, I would be fine, that being deaf didn't change anything and it would be OK.

And just like that it was.

OK, not completely, but what his advice has done is given me the confidence to know that I've done this before. I've had other new jobs. I've worked out what I need, explained what I need, and got what I need to be good at my job. 

And I've also discovered along the way that people like it if you tell them. They usually appreciate the honesty. After all, it's not fair to expect people to know automatically what you need to make life easier. A lot of the time, even I have to discover exactly what that is along the way.

And that's what this is.

Not a scary, oh-my-crappola, I'm deaf blubfest.

It's a brilliant, exciting challenge with new opportunities and wonderful experience in the offing.

And I'm ready.

After I've had some sleep this weekend. And perhaps another mug of Lemsip.

Happy weekend peeps.

DG

x

Deaf Girly's broken hearing aid?

On Saturday I woke up to discover a herd of tap dancing elephants had moved into my skull. And I hold my guilty hands up and admit this was a hangover.

I punished myself by not changing a single one of my Saturday plans. I climbed with Art Man and as the day wore on, I wondered whether I'd crossed the age threshold that brings about 2-day hangovers as the tap dancing elephants remained. As did a rather persistent cough.

On Sunday, I woke up ill.

The kind of ill where you wake up at 5am needing water and painkillers but you cannot move and another two hours pass with you laying there face down willing everything to stop spinning.

This was worse than a hangover.

So Sunday's plans were cancelled.

I staggered from bed to kitchen to make
Lemsip and refill my hot water bottle. I drank pints of ice-filled squash to bring my temperature down and I prayed I'd feel better on Monday as guess what? I have a new job people!

I started it yesterday. Dosed up on Day Nurse and Lemsip alternatively. I wheezed and sniffed my way through meetings while praying I didn't infect my new team, but really not seeing an alternative. I mean who calls in sick on their first day.

Anyway, yesterday morning, through the fug of my sinus congestion, I put in my hearing aids in readiness for the day ahead and the right one appeared to be broken. I couldn't hear through it. It wasn't enhancing anything. I couldn't even hear the start up beeps.

It was most odd.

I was gutted.

This morning however, the congestion had moved to my chest. I woke up gurgling; purring like a cat when I breathed in. Indeed, I spent from 5am until 6am feeling like I was drowning when I breathed in.

But when I put in my hearing aids, I could faintly hear the start up beep of my right one. Could my congestion have stuffed my hearing so much I thought my aid had broken?!

Apparently so.

This might seem like a dumb question but is that likely?

So today in preparation for my second day, I have my T-loop fully charged for meetings, I have my left hearing aid's volume cranked up to full, and I have Lemsip at the ready.

If I could just stop my lungs from sounding like I had a purring cat stuffed up my jumper I'd be sorted!!

Happy Tuesday peeps

DG x

First Thankful Friday of 2013

Today is Thankful Friday and it turns out in 2013 I already have quite a lot to be thankful for.

Problem is I can't really write about it on here. But I can tell you it's good, exciting and a little bit scary all rolled into one.

There's gonna be some change though, but what has surprised me is that I don't mind that. Change seems to happen for a reason. Change is often good.

I wasn't always like this. As a kid, I hated change, right down to the new term or someone else other than Ma giving me a lift to school in the morning. The unknown used to terrify me. I'd worry about things that hadn't, might'nt and, in all honesty, wouldn't happen.

London Aunt always used to say that the worse things got the less I panicked, which was definitely true.

One time when I was with her, we were driving to the Alps for Christmas and I started to panic about the snow on the motorway. I was 10.

The snow fell heavier and heavier and at every gantry we expected to see a sign to say the mountain route was closed. One by one each gantry posted up a mountain route closure but not ours so we pressed on.

As we drove higher up the mountain, becoming stuck in snow, having to repair out snowchain with Pa's shoelace, I began to stop panicking and, as we slept overnight in our freezing car and it gradually became covered in freezing snow, I ceased to panic at all. Indeed if you'd have told me 6 hours earlier I'd be spending the night in my Pa's ancient Volvo stuck on the mountainside, I'd have got out the car and refused to go any further.

Oddly, I use that experience to remind myself that there's no point in panicking about future events and that should an occasion arise that needs to be panicked about, I will probably panic considerably less than if I'd thought about it before hand.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that 2013 might be a bit unknown, a bit scary but I reckon it will be what I make it. I will face the fear head on, ask questions about the unknown and remember that being me is enough.

So look out 2013, I'm coming at you

DGx

Happy New Year from Deaf Girly

Well, it is now 2013, which is great news really as 13 is my lucky number, so I'm expecting amazing things from this year.

My New Year's Eve was spent in the Wild West Erm... Country with Jenny M. I've known her for more than 20 years now and, as we've never spent a New Year's Eve together before, this year we decided to.

After an amazing Thai meal, we finally ended up, post midnight, in a cellar club dancing to bad music surrounded by terribly drunk men and creatively dressed women. There was enough synthetic material in the place that one spark and the whole club would have burst into flames.

Anyway, as I said, Jenny M and I have been mates for more than 20 years now and she knows me very well, which is why my Christmas present from her was bloody brilliant.

It's a desk calendar that has a new interesting word every day.

You see, Jenny M remembered me lamenting about my small vocabulary on various occasions so decided to help me out.

I have quite a few theories about why my vocabulary knowledge is so pitifully small and the main one is that I lost the bulk of my hearing in my teenage years, when your grown-up big vocabulary knowledge flourishes. That said, I could have added to it by reading lots and lots of books, but I was happier not doing that, and in addition to this, I actually became quite phobic of saying words I wasn't familiar with in case they came out wrong, so instead I stuck to the fail-safe vocab of my childhood. Indeed I lost count of the number of Alevel English essays I got back with the comment 'Use bigger, more varied and mature vocabulary please' accompanied by a nice shiny D grade.

In my 20s when I moved to London I decided I should really work on my word knowledge and started trying to learn and use big words. I read my thesaurus regularly, and I combed the archives of my mind for word replacements, with varying degrees of success.

I spent ages using the word peruse in the place of browse, only to discover it actually only applied to reading through something. I got profound and profuse muddled up and, as many of you will know I mispronounced Versailles, while I was actually in the bloomin' place. It took two weeks of solid practice to get that one right and even then I sound a bit Cockney when I say it so as a result tend to refer to it as that palace outside Paris.

So yesterday I opened my word of the day calendar with glee and to my absolute amazement in the opening section was an Abbreviated Pronunciation Key, telling me how I could work out the way to say a word. Amazing huh?

And my first word of the year was Retrodict, which means to utilise present information or ideas to explain (as a past event). Useful sentences with this in please peeps?

Today's word of the day is Legerdemain. This means sleight of hand or a display of skill. So does this mean I could say Deafinitely Girly used culinary legerdemain to conceal the fact she forgot to add enough eggs to her wedding cake, avoiding having to bake 120 cupcakes all over again?

And to all the brides I've baked for... JUST KIDDING!

Seriously though, I think this word of the day thing is gonna be great.

So get ready guys, DG's becoming a big wordsmith...

But for now I'm going work out how I am going to get legerdemain into my conversational day without looking like a total moron.

Happy New Year peeps!

DG
X

Blogging from my new iPhone

Phew, Christmas went by in a flash, didn't it?

Seems like yesterday I was arriving home at the rents, laden down with presents and bags, excited to be spending the festive season with them.

And honestly, it's been amazing. Brilliant fun, brilliantly relaxing, brilliant food. In fact, the only thing it's not been brilliant for, is my clothes. They're all too tight as I failed to resist the lure of the cherseboard.

One of my Christmas presets was a shiny new iPhone upgrade in the form of an iPhone 4S. I've had my treasured iPhone 3, mark 2, since I dropped the first one down the loo at my 30th birthday party almost two and a half years ago and it's been a wonderful companion. But recently the middle button, which on iPhones is rather crucial, has stopped working.

So for Christmas, Ma offered to pay for a new phone. I wanted to pay more up front to keep my monthly bill down, so we arrived at the O2 stored ready to pay rather a lot. *gulp

Anyway, I love O2 staff. I've never met one that's provided bad customer service and the lovely Alex at my rents' local O2 shop was no exception. He listened to exactly what I wanted, and then came up with an affordable monthly contract with the phone costing £30. Thirty pounds!!!!!!

Ma was delighted at this, so delighted that she upgraded her 20-year-old brick of a phone to an iPhone 4S, too... Without any hesitation.

Alex had struck gold.

So what do I think of my swanky new iPhone 4S? Well, the middle button works, which is a lovely treat and it's so fast and shiny. Everything happens immediately where as my iPhone 3 seemed to be constantly groaning under the weight of my demands.

Better still I've got a few more shiny new apps on it, such as the Blogger app, which means I can update my blog even more easily than before. And considering I haven't blogged in so long you've all probably forgotten I have a blog, this is definitely no bad thing.

But my New Years resolution is to blog more and with my shiny new iPhone it just got a lot easier.

Roll on 2013 peeps, roll it on!

DG
X

My deaf fire alarm

Yesterday, I came into possession of some free baking potatoes – not through theft I might add. 

'Excellent,' I thought as I did a mental Ready Steady Cook thinking about the beans and cheese I knew I already had at home.

But of course jacket potatoes, if you want them with tasty skins are not something to hurry but given the fact that my hunger rating has been off the scale recently, a two-hour slow cook in my beloved Smeg oven was out of the question.

So instead I scrubbed my potato and stuffed it in the microwave for 5 minutes while cranking my oven up to its top fan-assisted heat setting.

The microwave pinged – allegedly as even my new aids don't give me this sound – and I transferred my somewhat gelatinous baked potato to the shelf of my rather hot oven wishing the skin would crisp quickly.

Ten minutes later I opened the oven door and discovered that my Smeg oven is seemingly capable of solar-like temperatures. My jacket potato was in danger of becoming a cinder of its former self.

I quickly scooped it up, plonked on the hot beans and added a little sprinkle (ha, can anyone actually just have a little sprinkle?!) of grated cheese followed by a dash of Tabasco and some sea salt flakes.

It looked delicious.

But then, from amongst the whirr of my oven cooling down and the low hum of my TV, another sound began to penetrate my hearing aids. 

'What is that?!' I wondered as I stood and listened for a second gradually realising it was a low buzzing sound. I picked up my door phone thinking someone was outside but it wasn't that. And then I remembered I'd just burnt my jacket potato in an oven that was hotter than the sun and flew into my bedroom.

There was a disco going on.

The fire alarm strobe was flashing in a retina scorching manner and the vibrating box? Well to ensure I am awoken in a fire, this is sandwiched between the mattress and the wooden bed frame and the wood acts as the most amazing sound conductor. I picked it up in a panic, before realising that I had to put it back down and go and waft my smoke alarm to shut it up. I grabbed the closest thing to waft with – my pyjama bottoms – and legged it to my hallway, flailing wildly underneath my smoke alarm, which is miles away given the height of my ceilings. The disco continued in the next room.

Mid flail, I anticipated just what kind of email I'd be receiving from my neighbour.

Then finally, everything was calm.

Well everything except for me that is. I was shaking like a Powerplate stuck on high. Adrenalin coursed through my veins, my hair looked like I'd been dragged through a hedge backwards after it had become tangled up in the flapping pyjama bottoms, and my dinner?

Well thankfully as it'd baked it in an oven that was hotter than the sun, it was still nice and warm and the sprinkling (ha!) of cheese had melted nicely.

As I sat there munching away, marvelling at what had just happened, I couldn't help wondering how it is that I can bake such marvellous cakes and dream up quite bonkers recipes but when it comes to simple things, such as boiling eggs (they explode), stir-fries (I always cook the meat to death for fear of poisoning my guests), cheese on toast (another fire alarm causing meal of mine - how do you stop the corners from catching fire?), and indeed baked potatoes, I'm completely hopeless.

It takes me right back to my school days when my chocolate pudding exploded in my pressure cooker, came through the valve and decorated the ceiling like a cow on laxatives.

So tonight I am doing the following for dinner – making sure someone cooks it for me. Any offers?

DG

x

My life enhancing hearing aids

This morning I put my hearing aids in earlier than normal after waking up at 5.30am and not being able to get back to sleep. 

I lay there listening to the sounds of a Monday morning and marvelling at just how loud everything sounds in my flat.

What I could mainly hear however, was the pub around the corner and up the road from me getting a keg delivery. It was making a racket. I'd never heard that in my flat before.

It's been like that a lot recently – hearing things I've never heard before. Yesterday while visiting NikNak and chatting to her in her living room I was aware of some noise filtering through. 'What is that?' I asked her, baffled. 'Church bells!' she replied. I was amazed and I think she was a bit, too. I mean, I can only hear church bells normally if I'm right by the church in question.

It's been a bit of a shock. After all, you know how much I liked my pre-hearing aid world. I think, because I can lipread so well and London is quite a noisy place, I never really thought about what I wasn't hearing. And it's not like I could have told you what I wasn't hearing because I didn't know those sounds existed.

The only thing that really really reminded me that I couldn't hear was the fact that I was completely reliant on subtitles to follow anything on the TV.

But get this...

Again, while at NikNak's house yesterday, there was a Peppa Pig DVD playing on a loop as Mini K was poorly and being a massive Peppa fan, this was taking her mind off things.

At one point the entire family were out of the room doing things except for me and Mini K and so we sat in companionable silence watching precocious Peppa flounce around the screen. And do you know what? I could pick up words. I heard actually words from the TV without any subtitles to give me a clue. I could make out enough to work out what was going on in the world of Peppa Pig. OK, so this is a cartoon with kid's language but it's a cartoon, and you can't lipread cartoons!!

How utterly brilliant is that?!

When my audiologist said my hearing aids would get better over time, I didn't really believe him. I kinda thought it was a ploy on his part to get me to keep them in and give them a chance. But I'm quite excited that in December I can go back for my appointment and tell him that they do work, even though he probably knew that already.

They are not miracles and I am not hearing. I am Deafinitely Girly and always will be. But they are life enhancers. And right now, I'm more than happy to have a little bit of that in my world.

Happy Monday peeps!

DG

x

Hearing the rain

Today is Thankful Friday and I'm thankful for the way that each of my individual friends inspires or teaches me something.

Lesson one was from Miss H in the art of confrontation, after an old lady was rude to us in a café on Monday. You see, this café is amazing but as a result it's also always rammed. We queued politely to get to the counter where we ordered our food and prayed a table would become available. Then all of sudden a table became available. But quick as a flash the old ladies behind us went and put their coats on the seats, effectively reserving four places for just them. We naturally, with nowhere else to sit, and after checking there were really just two old ladies, went and moved their coats to just two seats and sat down. 

The first old lady scuttled over a few minutes later and started on Miss H. 'You've taken our place that we reserved,' she ranted as I struggled to follow what she was bleating about. Miss H sweetly replied that it really wasn't the kind of place where you could reserve seats and we continued our lunch. The old lady then started saying we'd taken the whole table by putting our coats on the seat by Miss H, but mid rant she was stopped by her friend who pointed out that the coat and bag she was referring to was in fact hers. Finally, the first old lady shut up and sat down. But what I found amazing was how Miss H stood her ground. She was polite but firm and the whole episode did nothing but present the old lady as a rude old bag who though age gave her the right to walk all over the younger generation. It does not.

My second lesson was about happiness and came from Fab Friend who paid me an impromptu visit this week after locking herself out of her flat.

She's recently been to India -– first to Mumbai on business and then to Goa for a yoga retreat – and as I was listening to her talk about everything, I was utterly inspired by her attitude to life right now. She's doing amazing, exciting and sometimes downright terrifying things all the time, she's challenging herself and she's happy.

Lesson number three came Uni Housemate who stayed with me while in town on business this week. As we chatted about the things that were on my mind she gave me the most fabulous peek at the other side of the grass and reminded me how the grass can be green on both sides you know.

And Lesson number 4? Well that came from me. Recently I've found myself feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the changes happening around me. But last night, as I was sat on my sofa, I started to wonder why I couldn't hear the TV anymore. There was the most insane noise coming through my hearing aids. I sat there for a moment listening to it before finally realising it was the rain. I could hear actual rain from inside a house. Wondering if it was particularly noisy rain, I took out my hearing aids, and it went quiet, then I put them back in and the amazing clattering, battering, syncopated rhythm of the rain came clamouring through again. It was amazing, and as I continued to listen, I was reminded that while change happens its not always a bad thing.

My hearing aids are changing my life. And that makes this a very Thankful Friday.

Bye bye internet dating

Yesterday I closed my online dating profile and breathed a big sigh of relief. 

It was for the best really. My heart wasn't in it. My head wasn't in it and my diary certainly wasn't having a bean of it. I realised halfway through writing an email to Trifle Man that suggesting meeting in January probably wasn't going to be conducive to getting to know each other and that I was wrong to keep putting him off. However, that doesn't really explain why he felt the need to reply with a picture of himself sat on a horse.

Anyway, I've ventured into the world of online dating several times since I move to London as a wide-eyed graduate 10 years ago. Through online dating, I've also met some lovely people such as Wise Friend and GBman, both of whom I am still good friends with. But perhaps that's where I'm going wrong. I mean, I love that I now know Wise Friend and GBman when otherwise our paths would never have crossed, but really I seem to be a success story only when it comes to Internet Friending.

I am rubbish at the dating part of things...

Take the time the guy told me about his IBS and lengthy toilet trips in the second minute of our first conversation, just as I bit into a chocolate brownie (the rest went straight in the bin). Or the guy who told me that he liked me but I had to make all the effort as he was done doing that with girls then asked me to get him a pint. I calmly walked to the bar and then just kept on walking, into the night, muttering under my breath like some crazy lady in complete disbelief that men like that actually existed. 

Then there was the one who asked me how long my longest relationship was, then proceeded to tell me I was obviously a commitment phobe and was I aware of this? 'You're the one who's pushing 45 and acting like a 23 year old,' I wanted to scream. But instead I ordered a very overpriced gin and tonic at the very overpriced bar he had chosen before excusing myself of his company and the bill and getting the bus home.

I could go on, but it only gets worse. There was the man who was so insanely boring that I fell asleep at the bar where we were drinking and only to wake up when my head hit the table and find he hadn't actually noticed. And the man who when I told him I was deaf, after we had met in a particularly loud and dark bar, simply made his excuses and left, *sniff. And then there was the one who decided that we were going to get married and live happily ever after before I'd even agreed to meet him for a drink. Needless to say the drink never happened.

Internet dating is not all about the horror stories – I have proof of this as several of my happily married/engaged friends met this way. But I don't think it's the way for me. I can't do the whole small talk with strangers over email any longer. I don't want pictures of men with trifles cluttering up my inbox or guys telling me I must be a commitment phobe (although it may well be true). I don't want to be judged on my deafness, my height, weight or personality from afar, or in person on the first meeting and I know don't want to be the person who does that either, because honestly internet dating does make you a little judgey…

So I'm stepping out of cyberspace and into reality.

And as long as no one emails me a picture of themselves with a trifle, it should all be ok… (I. MUST. STOP. BEING. JUDGEY)

I'll keep you posted.

DG

x