Sorry? Wait a minute! No I’m NOT!

Words matter. As I have aged (and hopefully matured) the discovery of what we say and how we say it has evolved as I have learned to communicate with focused intent.

As a person with hearing loss, a typical response for me after you first say something ranges from:

Sorry? (or I’m sorry)

Pardon?

HUH?

My mama raised me to be polite I suppose. However, I have lived with acquired disability nearly twice as long as I did with “normal” hearing and “normal” balance. Even people with a normal range of hearing for their age may respond with an “I’m sorry? What was that?” if they miss something in an overly noisy room. Because I am more likely to miss what was said or miss the context and fully understand what was said, I am more likely to use these phrases.

After some length of time living with these ingrained habitual responses, I realized how it was actually making me FEEL. I’m all about good manners. I noticed that I was having to say, “I’m sorry?” so much that I was a really, REALLY sorry individual. I also realized that I had nothing to apologize for when I said it. More importantly, it served no purpose. Heck, I give workshops on how to convey to someone you didn’t hear what they were saying.

It is best to educate and advocate. Don’t complain or apologize. I am best served by responding in one of the following ways:

“I did not hear most of that because of the background noise in here. Would you repeat that please?” (Maybe even suggest a quieter location)

“I heard you say, “ya-da yada”, but missed the last part”. (Obviously we can fill in the yada with what you actually heard).

Beware of your volume. Be careful not to “guess”. After all, you are trying to educate folks that pieces of their sentence was lost but not EVERYTHING they said was.

My husband once said to me in a crowded room, “I will see you later. Plan on dinner at six?”

I heard, “… see… later. Dinner and sex?”

YES PLEASE.

When you become more proactive about what you heard and did not hear, you can also suggest synonyms. When my kids were in elementary school, they would joke that they knew more synonyms than anyone else. Having been to all of those hearing loss conferences (thanks HLAA) they learned that if your loved one was having trouble understanding all you said, throw out some different key words. It may end up being a consonant blend they have no trouble hearing at all!

“Grandma called this morning and asked you to call back when you can”.

“What?”

“I spoke to Grandma this morning. Be sure to call her back tonight!”

I hope you do not misunderstand the purpose of this post. There is nothing wrong with being polite. There is everything right about letting someone know you did not hear them.

– – – – – – – – –

Let me quickly chase a rabbit here and insert that faking that you can hear is much different than faking you are listening. The latter may result in hurt feelings or a punch in the arm. To fake that you heard someone has heftier consequences. 

– – – – – – – – – –

What matters is letting them know you did not hear them in the right way. Our age-old habits of apologizing do not fix the problem. You are more likely to encounter people who are tired of repeating something, or start to do so LOUDLY. This only distorts the words making it even harder to understand.

By suggesting a quieter place to go, explaining you may do better with a different choice of words that can be understood in context better, or repeating the part you DID hear so that they don’t have to repeat everything can go a long way to better communication.

Depending on the environment, some other great options to take the place of constantly apologizing are:

  1. If in the car, suggest turning the radio and/or music off so that your ears do not have to compete with their voice.
  2. Ask to step into a building so the acoustics assist you in catching more of what they said to you. Outside, voices can D   r…      i  f…    t…   a way…
  3. If you know them well enough, ask them to ditch the gum 🙂
  4. Make sure by word and deed that the problem is not something you should apologize for as no one did anything wrong. They didn’t either – so work on making sure they do not think you are criticizing them.
  5. Do not let others say, I will tell you later. They won’t. If you hear this, let them know you will be following up by email to discover what they said because it is important to you.
  6. If you see a conversation going sideways and frustration is evident on the face on the person you are speaking to, ask for an email. Explain you simply cannot hear them in this environment and that you ask they follow-up with a text or an email. Assure them you want to respond as needed.

L. Denise Portis, Ph.D.

©2020 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

Use Your Words

use your words

Not too long ago, I stood in the kitchen with a piece of my kitchen cookware, and dramatically wiggled the (seemingly constant) loose handle.

“Hey, honey,” addressing my husband, “hand me the thingie-majig out of the… (I gestured wildly towards the drawer)… the… the… THINGIE!”

My husband turned to face me and raised his left eyebrow. It was only the left one. You know… the one he raises when I’ve said something truly ridiculous and he’s trying to make a point?

… with an eyebrow? Yeah. That one.

I continued to gesture holding the slightly, heavy pan and sputtered and fumed, not daring to repeat my request, only adding a bit of a head flick towards the… the… THINGIE.

At this point my husband’s raised eyebrow lowered. Instead both eyes grew wide with alarm. Both eyes. You know… the ones he widens in horror when he realizes I truly expect him to read my mind and decipher both thingie-majig and thingie?

“Denise.” (When he pauses like that not only do I know I’m in for a mini-lecture, but it also means it may be deserved).

“You canNOT expect me to actually know what you mean. We’ve been married a long time, but I know thingie-majig, thingie, whatcha-ma-callit, and doo-hickey are interchangeable, obscure references to whatever happens to be going through your brain at the time!”

Do you know I tried to argue with him?

“Terry.” (Cuz, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander).

“I’m holding a pan. I’m jiggling the loose handle. I need to use this pan. The handle is loose. I need a screwdriver. The “thingie-majig” is a screwdriver, of COURSE” (I sighed super loud for a little dramatic effect and continued). “I gestured towards the junk drawer with my eyes, head, and elbow. The drawer is the “thingie”. Now who wouldn’t KNOW THAT?”

His eyes lost their incredulous look.  It was like watching a slideshow of emotions flick over his face.

First anger. (“Is she SERIOUS?”)

Next came a sad effort at stifling his laughter.

Then that lightbulb look. I love this look. It’s a slow-simmer realization that darn it. “Darn it, she’s right! That kinda made SENSE!”

He scratched his head and bent to collect the screwdriver from the bottom junk drawer. “It sucks that what you said made sense”.

I demurely accepted the screwdriver and sweetly…

Kept.

My.

Mouth.

Shut.

… because it didn’t make sense. I didn’t use words! Well, I did… but they weren’t real words. How can I call that communicating effectively?

When We Don’t Use Our Words

When you’ve lived with a chronic illness or disability long enough, the vocabulary associated with it becomes second nature to you. However, it doesn’t become second nature to others. You know all the medical terms and acronyms associated with your “new normal”. You shorten things and abbreviate information with people who really do not completely understand what you are trying to convey.

So… use your words.

  1. Use specifics.

Don’t say, “I can’t hear well”. Instead be specific and offer an alternative that may help.

“I can’t hear well in this cavernous room with so much background noise. Can we step out into the hallway to finish this conversation?”

2. Don’t leave out details that actually assist in expressing your need.

Don’t say, “Will you watch the dogs for me while I talk to mom?” Instead provide some more detail so that your request isn’t unreasonable.

“The dogs are wound up and my mom is trying to FaceTime me. Can you take them outside while I talk to her for a few minutes? I will be able to concentrate and hear her better.”

Don’t say, “Oh my gosh I need to leave right now!” Instead provide the details for your hasty departure so that whomever is accompanying you can make polite excuses and follow you in a more polite way.

“Oh my gosh. The ceiling fans in here are low and are moving in the opposite direction of my inner ‘SPIN’. I need to step out right away”. 

3. Avoid acronyms unless they are truly universal.

A.S.A.P.  – – – Yeah. We all know what this means.

BPPV – – – To most with a balance disorder or Meniere’s disease, we understand this to stand for benign paroxysmal positional vertigo. Few others will know what this is. I have even discovered that within disability groups (types), members will often use acronyms that they think are universal to “us” and they are not. For example in a Meniere’s support group I belong to, the members constantly refer to Meniere’s disease as MD. As a volunteer and participant of a service dog organization that includes a number of mobility challenges, MD stands for Muscular Dystrophy for both myself and many others.

I have been surprised how understood and universal the acronym MS is. Many, many people seem to understand it stands for Multiple Sclerosis. Why is that I wonder? (I’m asking for real responses and not rhetorically!)

4. Don’t use cues unless you have practiced them and both you and your “helper” understand the cue. 

If someone has facial hair or talks behind their hand, I’m likely not comfortable stepping into their personal space to hear them better. I will turn to my husband and touch the corner of my mouth. This means, “What’d he say? Repeat for me please?” We’ve used this FOREVER and it works without any hitches for us now.

I have trouble in places that have huge, open areas, or extremely, high ceilings. I may “look” fine. But if I pick up the vest handle on Milo’s equipment and quietly ask for my husband’s arm, he knows I’m about to do a face plant. If my husband isn’t around, I take Milo’s vest handle and head for the nearest wall so that I may continue with whatever I was doing safely, or talking to whomever I was trying to talk to before my “Woah!” I have never had someone argue with me about moving towards a wall. (I’m pretty sure people would rather move than pick me up off the floor).

5. Complete your thought. Use real words.

Just because you know what you are talking about, doesn’t mean you can voice a sentence fragment.

“Put it over…” 

Put it over where? If the other person wasn’t watching, they do not know where you mean for them to put it.

Recently I got up on a step stool (never a good idea) to dust the ceiling fan blades in the dining room. The fan was OFF, so “color me SURPRISED” when I was hit with a sudden bout of vertigo and actually felt my vision tunnel as I struggled to stay conscious.

“Please! Right now!”, I screeched.

Manners didn’t matter. Specifics about the timeframe were irrelevant. I fell. My husband did hear the fall. Well… he HEARD the screech too, but he simply didn’t know what it meant. It was vague. It could have been meant for the dog who just stole my sock for the fourth time and I was demanding it back. (Hey. It’s happened).

He was horrified he didn’t interpret my call for help for him to actually get his butt there immediately. I hit the carpet and the dogs scattered safely out of the way. Since I didn’t injure anything (dogs included) I could laugh as soon as I made it vertical again. “Well geesh. It’s not like I called your name or explained why I needed you! I should have said, ‘Terry! Come quick!’, right?”

As fond as I am of “thingie-majig”, “thingie”, “doo-hickey”, and “whatcha-ma-callit”, they aren’t words. They stand for whatever word is missing from our immediate working vocabulary. They are stand-ins, and we simply cannot expect someone to make sense of them. When it comes to our challenges and self-advocacy, it makes sense to —

Make Sense.

Use your words.

Be specific.

Use necessary details.

One final word of advice though. Sometimes we work SO hard to be good communicators, we may offer a little too much information. If I throw the acronym at ya, of T.M.I., — does that make sense to you?

Too Much Information. We can blow people away with unnecessary details and specifics.

Several weeks ago I ran into one of my students in the hallway and we were headed in the same direction. He opened the door to the stairwell and I leaned over to hit the elevator call button. He said, “Oh here, let me carry that” and reached for my bag assuming I would be able to take the stairs if someone carried my bag.

I said, “Oh no. I can’t take the stairs. Even though I have Milo it will take me ten minutes to make it up one flight of stairs. I’ll be late for class. I just can’t traverse the stairs safely at top speed. I need to wait for the elevator. I don’t always wobble, or have bad balance days, but I never climb or descend stairs safely”. By the time I finished with my over-zealous answer, he was practically cross-eyed.

“TMI?” I sheepishly asked.

“A little… but we’re cool!” he cheerfully responded. He ended up taking the elevator with Milo and I because we were headed to the same class and were discussing something he was passionate about – projective tests (ugh. Hate them!).

So just be careful about being specific and detailed, without killing someone with unnecessary information.

Denise Portis

© 2016 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

 

 

 

If I’ve Said it Once…

If I've said it once

The photo above was taken at the 2006 Walk4Hearing in Pennsylvania. It was completely coincidental that the Walk coordinators invited “Elmo” to interact with the children on site that day. Poor Elmo had no idea what hit him as I squealed and came flying across the parking lot to hug his neck! Children he was expecting. A grown woman – not so much. However, Elmo encapsulated my reemergence to the hearing world – the first toy I heard months following my cochlear implant activation. Elmo’s voice (emanating from the “Tickle-me-Elmo” toy I found on the shelves of a local store) was the first CHILDHOOD voice I recognized after having been tweaked and re-programmed numerous times following my activation. It was an epiphany for me. From that moment on, I knew I was going to be OK. I could hear again – and more importantly RECOGNIZE voices. So to find Elmo that beautiful August day, 7 years ago, was thrilling for me!

I stepped back to introduce myself and explain “why the exuberant hug“. Elmo interrupted me and mumbled something. I said something to the effect of “HUH?” (I’ve always been particularly good with words).

Elmo spoke up. “I CAN’T HEAR A THING INSIDE THIS SUIT“. I stared blankly at Elmo for a moment and then broke into peals of laughter. Elmo put his hands on his hips and looked as exasperated as a character was able while inside a red furry suit! I apologized. Profusely. Welcome to my world!

Welcome to My World

Something numerous readers email me about is their frustration at trying to explain what is working – or not working, to closest friends and family members. I was at an ADI (Assistance Dogs International) conference in Baltimore several years ago and just happened to be in the right place at the right time; relaxing against a wall in the hallway outside a conference room. Because of my position, I was in the perfect place to see and hear a lady take her husband by the elbow and drag him over to the side (near me) to fuss.

She whispered (loud enough for even ME to hear), “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times… I cannot climb over your bag when you put it in the aisle. Do you want me to fall in front of everyone?”

Readers constantly tell me how frustrated they are to have to repeat “how to’s” to those closest to them. Folks they don’t interact with much they expect to remind about what works well for them and what doesn’t work. However, people think that if they are closely acquainted with someone they don’t ever need to be reminded of what they can do to communicate better, or to assist if needed.

A close friend of mine and follower of Hearing Elmo has MS and deals with fatigue frequently as a result. She was out to eat with her mother recently at which point her body just shut down. Although they were not finished eating, she needed to leave and needed to do so right away. She stood up and wobbled, and ended up asking her mother for assistance. Her mother did so but was very quiet on the walk out to the car. It was there her mom let her exasperation get the best of her.

“I don’t understand how you can be out on the field to oversee your son’s soccer team one day, and need help to the car the next. I don’t know how things can turn on a dime like that with you!”

My friend was shocked – and grieved that her mom, someone as close to her as anyone, failed to recognize what to her was obvious. One cannot pick and choose when fatigue and weakness will hit. My friend thought she had explained this to her mom (and very likely HAD). But her mom needed a refresher course in how symptoms of MS manifest themselves to my friend – a unique individual.

When my frustrated friend relayed what happened to me I thought, “Well welcome to my world”. Don’t all of us who live with invisible illness, disability, or chronic conditions deal with the same thing? We have to repeat ourselves – often.

Learning to communicate

It cracks me up to be on the training floor at Fidos For Freedom, Inc. sometimes. Clients and volunteers are asked to “Meet and Greet”. I hate these exercises. I’m not gonna lie. You pair off in groups of 2 or 3 and shake hands, talk, and introduce yourself. This is very “real life”. It is something we do in the “real world”. But I have to tell you there are few things I dread more. For one thing, that wonderful “voice in my head” via the training room floor’s hearing loop system is gone. Instead there is a BUZZ of voices overlapping and rising in volume all around me. I struggle and ask for repeats the entire time – all the while making sure my dog is in a proper down/stay and not flirting with nearby dogs. If more than one of us in the group have hearing loss, we juggle for position trying to put everyone on our “best hearing side”. If you look around the room there are plenty of people with cocked heads leaning close, or others who have definitely invaded the personal space of someone in their group. I’ve been in groups of people who did not have hearing loss who ask, “Now remind me which is your good side?”

My balance disorder allows me to move just fine. Standing still? Not so much. I wobble when standing still. Especially when standing in a large room with low ceilings and ceiling fans. I’m not the only one to be wobbling though. I giggled out loud one day when I lost my balance and a fellow client who uses a walker reached out to steady me and almost lost her own balance. She giggled right back in response and said, “I forgot you can’t hold still!” It was comical actually. Yes, we may both have balance problems, but we could help each other. We learn to laugh at ourselves if needed. We learn to accept help. We learn to communicate what it is we need.

Significant others and Spouses are “Just PEOPLE”

Do you get frustrated with the people in your life who should “know better”? “If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times…”!

Even those we love the most are NOT mind readers. They may know how best to communicate with you if you have hearing loss. They may know that certain things like weather or temperature influence how you feel. They may know how certain medications may help – or hinder you. If I’m honest with you, however, I will admit that even *I* do not know how I will feel from one day to the next. Maybe even from one HOUR to the next. It is my responsibility to communicate my needs. It is my responsibility to give gentle reminders. I am responsible to explain 1001 times if needed.

We need to remember that those who love us? They’re just people. They do the best they can – and 9 times out of 10? They are not being a butt-head on purpose. My own spouse doesn’t even blink when I ask him to take my elbow one day, and maneuver my way around a crowded mall without assistance the next. If I’m telling him once AGAIN that I cannot take a call in a crowded store and to please answer my phone? He simply says, “Oh yeah!” (He’s cute that way)

Someone recently belly-ached to me, “At what point do I assume they will never get it? When do I give up?” Who said anything about giving up? There is no “end game” here. It’s a journey.

Let’s all be willing to communicate – again – what we need.

Denise Portis

© 2013 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

I Stare at my Phone and LAUGH!

If I'm not married to you or if I didn't birth you... I'm just not going to talk to you on the phone! :-)
If I’m not married to you or if I didn’t birth you… I’m just not going to talk to you on the phone! 🙂

Last week after a meeting with Anne Arundel County Commission on Disabilities, I received a follow-up phone call about changes in a training that I would be participating in for the Public Safety committee. There are five of us on the committee, two of which (including myself) have hearing loss. I never give out my cell phone number, but do have a number that we use as our “home phone” through Google Voice. The reality is that Google Voice isn’t a phone at all. It transcribes messages from a messaging service when people call the number and leave a message. I receive both a written transcription and the taped message.

So I received the message with changes about our training and read/heard at the end: “Call me to let me know you received this”.

I laughed.

Out loud.

Twice.

I don’t use the phone. On rare occasions I will speak to my husband or grown kids on my cell phone. However, I know their voices VERY well. Sometimes I will talk to my mother but only long enough to ask her to switch to FaceTime. (Always helps to see the face to pick up more of the conversation). With all other people, however, I do not use the phone.

It isn’t that I cannot use the phone. It simply isn’t my first choice (or second, or third choice). If I want to talk on the phone I have to stop everything. No multi-tasking such as continuing what I’m doing on my computer, or folding laundry, or working in the kitchen. I have to sit (that’s right… I can’t stand!) switch to t-coil on my cochlear implant and hearing aid, close my eyes (I’m not kidding), and concentrate. How often would YOU be able to talk on the phone if this were the parameters for you to do so? <BIG GRIN>

Email is a Great Choice

email

Email is a great choice for people with disabilities or chronic illness. In my opinion, it is actually a great choice for everyone. Why?

1. Email gives a written record of exactly what was said.

It doesn’t really matter if the conversation is personal or business. A written record of what was actually said can help us better remember dates, times, and other important information.

2. Email fits into our schedule.

You can check email on many phones now. You can check email on devices such as iPods and iPads, and Kindle Fire. Many types of technology allow you to read and respond to emails no matter where you are.

When we need to respond to emails from our desks, something business related or important, we can do so on OUR schedule. No playing telephone tag. Instead you can read and respond at a time that is convenient.

3. Email can eliminate communication problems.

Have a habit of interrupting someone mid-sentence? Do you have attention-deficit disorder and are easily distracted by what is going on around you? Is the person you need to communicate with hard to talk to – angers easily, defensive, mumbles, etc? Email eliminates those kinds of problems.

4. Email is free.

Most of us have a computer at home now. If you do not, you likely have a way to access email through mobile devices or at least have a library nearby where you can access the Internet. There are numerous free email options. I personally use Google’s gmail for my email account. However, there are numerous free email options discussed at About.com. You can access that HERE.

Email can also be a great choice for people with disabilities or chronic illness. I am late-deafened and hear again with a cochlear implant. For me, email eliminates the pressure to HEAR. When folks get a hold of my cell phone number for some reason and call, I really do stare at my phone and laugh. Email can be read by special programs such as JAWS (a Microsoft computer screen reader) and written with Braille displays for folks with low-vision or people who are blind. Email font can be enlarged to assist those with problems seeing smaller type. Email can be a great communication device (along with various social media) for people who have difficulty expressing themselves and using their voice. Email may be easily accessed with various tools for people who have mobility issues. Email is available when you are ready to read/send communications… something that may be important to people who have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, FibromyalgiaLymes disease, or other disorder where fatigue and pain are a factor. Can you tell I’m a big fan of email?

Some of you are thinking, “But I just want to hear your voice!” I totally understand that. Even as a person with hearing loss, I understand how important inflection, emotion, and accents may be in communication. We do need to be sensitive to the fact that there are a great number of people who do not feel the same way. Just because you like to hear someone’s voice with a phone tucked under your ear, doesn’t mean that others are able to have a hands-free, low-anxiety audible communication with you. Perhaps Skype would be a good choice for you – free to anyone with a computer or modern cell phone. FaceTime is rising in popularity with people who have Apple products. These communication devices allow people to both hear and see when communicating. You can even have conference calling!

I think the only thing I love more than email is texting! Unless, you want to discuss a major problem called autocorrect… but hey! That’s a topic for another post!

Denise Portis

© 2013 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

Active Listening

Having learned early on in my hearing loss journey to "actively listen", by 2005 I was a near expert - but only because of necessity!
Having learned early on in my hearing loss journey to “actively listen”, by 2005 I was a near expert – but only because of necessity!

In a recent PSY-215 (Psychology of Relationships) class, I went over some details in regards to communication. We were studying “active listening” and how it can benefit people when communicating.

Communication is more than being able to articulate your ideas and feelings. We have a responsibility to be the best communicators that we can. We owe it to ourselves to learn to write well, speak well, and convey our thoughts AND emotions in a positive way that will be well received. However, part of communication is on the receiving end. After all, if you are talking or writing and no one is there to listen, that isn’t really communication. According to Miller (2011), there are two important tasks as “receiver” in a conversation. “The first is to accurately understand what our partners are trying to say, and the second is to communicate that attention and comprehension to our partners so that they know we care about what they’ve said” (Miller, 2011, p. 170).

We can do this by paraphrasing – repeating in our own words what we heard to give the other the opportunity to correct anything we were mistaken about in listening. As a person with hearing loss, I learned early on how valuable paraphrasing was to communication. It was more than a matter of understanding the true intent of what was being said… at times I wasn’t HEARING all that was being said. Paraphrasing allowed me to – in my own words – repeat what I thought was said. If I misunderstood both words or meaning, the other person was able to correct anything.

Paraphrasing is a great tool if you know someone with a communication disorder or hearing loss too! I would often frustrate family members by saying, “HUH?” after they said something. I later learned to repeat all that I heard and to be more specific about what I didn’t. This allowed them to fill-in-the-blank for me, or to paraphrase what they said so that I might hear more if it was put a different way. Example:

Terry: “I think we should go to The Point tonight because it won’t be crowded. We need to fill your car up with gas first so let’s take your car.

Denise: “I heard we should go to The Point but then I only heard something about my car…”

Terry: “Oh… I said your car needs gas. I noticed the last time I was in it, so let’s swing by the gas station first and fill it up!”

When communicating with a person with hearing loss, words – or even just PIECES of words (prefixes or suffixes) may be lost. Paraphrasing may put what you had intended to say in a different pattern, or using a different choice of words that the person with hearing loss DOES pick up.

Another valuable listening skill is perception checking. Perception checking is when “people assess the accuracy of their inferences about a partner’s feelings by asking the partner for clarification” (Miller, 2011, p. 170). Example:

Daughter: “I can’t believe you said that  — —–  , (wails) I’ll never be able to go there again!”

Me: “I missed what you explained that *I said*, but I can tell you are very upset – perhaps embarrassed. Is that right?”

Using active listening tools allows us to be RESPONSIVE. That can only be a good thing! You don’t have to be tucked away in a quiet nook of the kitchen like the picture above either. Once you become a skilled active listener, you will use these tools automatically when communicating. It can be done with environmental noises competing. Active listening can be done when in a hurry, with only a moment or two to communicate before you rush out the door.

Something Miller fails to mention in his review of active listening is eye contact. Yes, I believe we can practice active listening without eye contact (though maybe not if you have hearing loss). However, I believe to truly engage the other person, to acknowledge that we are listening and working to listen, requires eye contact. This can be done even when we are in a hurry. Trying to get out the door while someone is explaining they’ll need picked up from work? Put the cell phone up as you reach for the door handle, take a deep breath and make eye contact. Listen. Actively. (smile)

Denise Portis

© 2013 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

 

Monkey See, Monkey Do

I've always been an "expressive mime" and mirror people's facial expressions!
I’ve always been an “expressive mime” and mirror people’s facial expressions!

My kids were the first to ever mention it to me. However, since that revelation a number of people have told me, “Denise? You mimic every facial expression I have!”  Some said so with exasperation, and some with amusement. My daughter, age approximately ten-years-old, interrupted herself describing something funny that happened in a class to exclaim, “Mom! You crack me up! You make the same faces I do when I talk!”

Sort of like “monkey see, monkey do” I suppose… but not because I was learning through observational learning or imitation. Instead, as a person with hearing loss, I carefully watched the facial expressions to better speech read and pick up more than I could by simply hearing pieces of words.

It’s different than being empathetic. I know because I’m one of those folks who will laugh with you and cry with you. Yup. Literal tears and equal sobs and hiccups. Don’t get me wrong! I’m sincere! I just get very emotionally involved in communicating and have been known to laugh, cry, or “blow my top” just in commiseration!

I “hear again” fairly well now. I’m bi-modal – meaning I have one cochlear implant, one hearing aid, but AIDED in both ears to better hear. Ideal environments are one-on-one in quiet places. I hear well with only some necessary clarification even in noisier environments. However, despite hearing better, I still have the habit of mirroring people’s emotions and facial expressions.

I learned ASL long before I lost my own hearing. I had some friends in college who were culturally deaf… and this motor-mouth wanted to talk to them. Most people who are late-deafened never learn ASL. (Why? They were born hearing and likely most of the people they know are verbal communicators). However, ASL is actually made up of three things: sign, facial expression, and body language.

So perhaps that is why I mirror facial expressions. More likely? My best guess is that people with hearing loss have a need to really focus, really TUNE IN when communicating. Sure, we speech read to a degree, but we watch people’s faces too. Are they smiling, scowling, surprised or crying? These facial expressions matched with what we CAN hear, help us to determine the overall content of what a person is communicating. So guess what? If you know someone with hearing loss, it can greatly benefit that person for your face to match your mouth.

Sarcasm is a Problem

How do I know this can be a problem? I have a sarcastic son. As a matter of fact, my daughter has been described as having a dry wit. My husband? KING OF SARCASM. It can be really hard to communicate if their face is saying one thing (or nothing at all…) and their mouths are saying something else. Even “hearing again” as well as I do I was taken aback by a conversation I had on the training floor at Fidos For Freedom recently.

Steve (name changed), a fellow client and new buddy of mine, came up to me in his scooter with this big signature smile on his face. “HEY! (What can I say… I’m exuberant!) How has your week been!?”

With huge smile and sporting numerous dimples he responded, “Hi, Denise. Hi Chloe. I had a really bad week!”

I paused a moment. Then a second moment went by. I was confused. In this big cavernous training room with numerous sounds competing with what was coming out of his mouth, his face did not match what I thought I heard.

“Ummmm.” (Yeah. I’m eloquent).

Thankfully, he took my pause as permission to elaborate. It only took another sentence or two for me to realize – yes. He HAD indeed had a bad week, but ever optimistic, positive-thinking young man that he is, wasn’t going to let that stop him from smiling and enjoying his training and friends at Fidos For Freedom.

Another example of mixed signals:

In class today a student rushed into class a few minutes late, causing me to skitter out of the way before I was knocked flat. Big smile on her face, she stopped with big eyes and eager expression to spout, “Crap. Crap, crap, crap. I could kill myself!”

Again, tempered with years of experience I intelligently responded…

“Ummmm.”

“We have a quiz today, don’t we? Crap! I forgot!”

Thankfully people do tend to continue, helping to CLEAR UP that initial confusion. It is a much tougher situation when you get mixed signals and then they pause waiting for a response. You know that terrifying look? Shoulders turned slightly towards you with eyebrows raised and expectant look? (When I see it the blood rushes right out of my face!) Then I have to ask for clarification, “Could you repeat that?”

Many times mirroring another’s expression can be very helpful. If they look concerned and you mirror that concern, it may clue them in you are taking something they are saying seriously – when perhaps it is NOT. I’ve had friends pat my shoulder and say, “Relax. I’m kidding”

Being willing to ask for clarification is key. People with hearing loss cannot be afraid to admit you did NOT get it. You don’t need to complain. You don’t need to “ticket” repeat offenders. No need to point and loudly exclaim, “Everyone look at this person! They are expressively dyslexic!” (Ok, yeah, I made that phrase up).

Instead, just say, “Oh wow. You know what? I didn’t hear that right because your expression doesn’t match what I thought I heard”. That’s enough! In the end… you just may assist helping others become more expressive, genuine communicators. Hey… we can dream, right?

Denise Portis

© 2013 Personal Hearing Loss Journal

 

Confrontation and Hearing Loss

Acting out a conversation gone WRONG…

I hate debate. Perhaps it is because it is too much like arguing. When my now, 21-year-old son was still in high school, he wanted to take debate. We thought it was an excellent idea as he could argue the paint off a wall. We figured, “Why not channel that?” I was dismayed to discover it made his default to arguing even stronger! I’m just not a big fan of arguing. Now don’t get me wrong… it’s not because I do NOT argue. Heavens! My family will tell you that is not the case! What I do not care for is having to confront someone, or argue a point now that I have hearing loss.

Volume

I’ve had a hearing loss longer than I lived my life without hearing loss. Frankly? I can’t remember if I was loud prior to eventually losing my hearing. Trust me. I recall arguing growing up. I have two brothers and one sister. We argued.

Since becoming deaf, however, I was oblivious to the fact that my family would wince as I proceeded to give my point of view in the midst of an argument. I’m ashamed to admit that the first thing that clued me in to the fact that I was WAY TOO LOUD, was that I often had a sore throat after an argument! Perhaps my family members didn’t say anything to me because they figured… “She’s deaf. Of course she’s loud…”

We can learn (with practice) to lower the volume in our voices when having to confront someone, or when arguing a point. What I have found to be an occasional problem with doing this, is that the other person may lower their voice too! People often vocally mirror what they are hearing. When I’ve deliberately lowered my voice in an effort to be aware of my volume, the other person often lowers their voice as well!

I have a friend here in Maryland that I met at a hearing loss support group. She is bilaterally implanted and hears very well with her two Nucleus Freedoms. However, she was very loud when she communicated with others. I took her aside once and asked her if she realized her voice was raised. I was surprised by her answer!

“Of course I know I’m loud! It’s the only way I can get people to consistently speak up enough for ME to hear. If I talk loud, they do too!”

I secretly set out to prove her wrong, hoping to garner a little more ammunition to argue my own point of view about her volume. But do you know something? She was right! As I eavesdropped and observed some of her interactions, people would increase their volume when turning to talk to her because she was very exuberant and loud. They may have been talking to someone else right before addressing her and would be speaking in a normal tone and volume. After they turned to speak to her, their volume would dramatically increase. I had to go to her and tell her that she was right!

To offset this unfortunate conundrum, she and I set about trying to educate others around us that volume wasn’t as helpful as enunciating properly and making sure they were facing us when speaking to us. Eventually, she (and I) did learn to communicate without quite so much… VOLUME.

Proximity

I have young adult kids living at home. As long as they work, go to school, and do their fair share around the house, they actually live here free of charge. However, living with two independent thinking young adults also means that I occasionally have to confront them about something – usually about keeping up with their end of our “bargain”.

My kids have only known me as a person with hearing loss as they are only 11 months apart, and my hearing loss began after the birth of my youngest – my son. So they are very accustomed to my “getting up in their grill” when we argue about something because they know proximity helps me hear better and see better. A secondary benefit is that I’m close enough to grab, kiss, or hug them when needed to dispel some of the tension.

Other people do not really appreciate close encounters with the “deaf” kind. I’ve had confrontations with students about fulfilling their responsibilities about an assignment. I have to be careful about following my first inclination to step closer to get my point across. Professors are to maintain a professional distance for obvious reasons.

If those of us with hearing loss get into the bad habit of stepping closer to someone in an argument, things can really “heat up”. It is a natural reaction to feel defensive if someone gets up in your personal space. What was only a verbal confrontation could quickly escalate into a physical altercation. It is a natural reaction to want to “push off” someone who is WAY to close for comfort! Even if people understand you are closer because of hearing loss, they may not be able to control their feelings of unease, need to protect, or urge to step away. We should be careful about how close we get to others even when arguing.

Crying

I rarely have to confront anyone who is not an immediate family member. If I have to confront a student, friend, colleague, or acquaintance, it is done through email. This has added benefits:

1. I can think about what I want to say and edit at leisure.

2. I have a written record of what was said.

3. It allows them to respond in kind, allowing me equal access in the conversation as I can read their own response.

My family members do see the “confrontational Denise” at times. I’m mom, wife, and FEMALE. I’m a crier though! If I’m happy, I may cry. If I’m sad, I most certainly will cry. If I’m mad – yup, you guessed it. I’m prone to crying.

I have been arguing with my husband about “this or that” before and had to wave my hands and say, “Wait. WAIT! I can’t hear you anymore!”

It’s rather difficult to hear when I’m hiccuping, sniffling, blowing my nose, and flat out WAILING. Sometimes I reach up and even disconnect my cochlear implant! I sound raucous and noisy even to myself! I take a few, deep, steadying breaths, reconnect “my ears”, and continue the conversation.

If confrontation causes you to burst into tears, I definitely recommend taking a break and “getting a grip” before trying to continue the conversation. You will only miss 1/2 of what you are hearing anyway! Better to calm down and try again after you are able to communicate effectively again.

Misunderstandings

Let’s face it… when we are arguing or are having to confront someone, chances are we are not communicating well. Tensions are high, everyone is on edge, and misunderstandings are bound to happen. I’ve noticed when my husband and I are fussing (usually about those young adult kids I mentioned), I’ve noticed I have to ask for repeats much more often. He has noticed this as well. “Repeat that please?” or “Say again?” are much more frequently said when we are discussing something rather heatedly.

If nothing else provides incentive to CALM YOURSELF… do so because you will actually understand what is being said much better.

Early on in my hearing loss, I learned to repeat what I THOUGHT I heard if it sounded strange or if I realized there is NO WAY that is what the other person actually said. My husband has CRACKED UP before – mid argument – because I repeated what I thought I heard when communication broke down.

SIX TIMES, Denise… not SEXY SHINE” he’d carefully explain with a huge smile on his face.

Hey. At least the ridiculous misunderstandings serve to diffuse some of that tension!

Denise Portis

© 2012 Personal Hearing Loss Journal