Eva’s Hearing Loss Story

‘… a few months back, I decided that I was going to do whatever I wanted to do, without hesitation…What happened? I wasn’t perfect, but I was pretty damn good!’

Following my hearing loss in 2016, I started writing a blog as a way of documenting my thoughts, feelings and observations. It is through my blog that I have connected with many people who have experienced different forms of hearing loss, all with their unique stories.

Hearing loss can present many challenges, both practical and emotional, to the lives of those affected. When we exchange hearing loss stories, we have the opportunity to increase our understanding of the difficulties that living without full sound can bring, and we can use this knowledge, and the advice of others, to develop our coping mechanisms. I have realised the comfort in sharing experiences. Sharing my story has helped me to feel part of a supportive community and I feel less alone in my hearing loss journey.

Let’s Meet Eva

I first ‘met’ Eva in April 2019, when she contacted me through my blog, two months after experiencing a profound sudden hearing loss in her left ear, very similar to mine. She also has tinnitus and some slight balance issues, which accompany her hearing loss.

Eva is 45 and is from Southern California. She enjoys hiking in the mountains and the beautiful Californian terrain, playing golf, yoga, attending her local book club meetings, and spending time with her friends and family. She was working as a director in the business office at a local college but recently stepped down from this demanding position as a result of her sudden hearing loss. She is now in a less demanding role at the college and continues to work full-time.

She has a positive approach to dealing with her single-sided deafness and is working to recover her life since her loss. Eva and I have talked a lot about hearing loss grief, something which we both identify strongly with. She recently remarked, “I hope someday soon my usual cheery self will be my default setting again and not something I have to work so hard to achieve each day. I’m getting there and have made tons of progress.” She recently acquired a CROS hearing aid and she is currently trialling it to see if it will provide her with adequate support. She says, “The jury is still out”.

Eva and I have formed an online friendship, based on regular communication through Email. She kindly allowed me to interview her, during which she gave a very honest account of her hearing loss story…

Eva, has your life changed since your hearing loss?

The first six months following my hearing loss were significantly difficult, but things are starting to settle now that it has been 9 months.

At first, I could not sleep. I do not know if it was tinnitus or anxiety, or my body freaking out due to not receiving input from one ear. I would wake up in a severe panic any time I’d fall asleep for even just a few minutes. I am sleeping much better now, my body has adjusted. It is still not as good as it was before the hearing loss (I was a great sleeper, could sleep 8 or more hours straight if you’d let me), but I am getting at least 4 hours per night each night.

I also had a lot of sensitivity to loud noise, so it was difficult to be in many situations, such as restaurants, church, family parties, etc. I kept pushing myself to be in noisy situations and I find that I am more used to it now, it doesn’t bother me very much anymore. Loud noises would sound so terrible as they entered my damaged ear and would cause awful noises, it still does but I am more used to it now.

Of course, my limited hearing makes certain situations difficult. I have to lip read a lot more, I’m getting better at it. I am very aware of where I am in a room to ensure I will be able to hear. Sometimes people call out to me or approach me from my deaf side, and I have no idea they are there. I am often surprised to see someone standing next to me, sometimes they are talking to me and I have no idea.

Finally, I feel this has greatly affected my relationships with those closest to me as it is difficult for them to understand why I am down. I try really hard not to be down, but it is difficult and I think they may become tired of my negative energy. I know I will come out of this, but it is taking time and I cannot force it. I need time to grieve.

What have you found the most challenging about living with hearing loss?

Strangely, the hearing loss itself is not the most challenging. It is challenging, but my one good ear provides sufficient hearing to function in most situations. The more challenging part is the psychological and emotional part. The grief, the depression, the anxiety, the inability to sleep, the toll it has taken on my relationships, the blow to my self-confidence.

What advice would you give to someone who has recently experienced a sudden hearing loss?

I believe meditation, taking walks, and positive journaling has helped me tremendously to cope with the psychological turmoil that comes with sudden hearing loss. I think any person, healthy or not, should start practicing meditation, so that when something terrible strikes (and it will!), you have built experience meditating. Same goes for taking walks and positive journaling. It is very difficult to get used to your entire world sounding different, the tinnitus, etc. and you can never escape it, so keeping your mind calm and focusing on other things (by meditating, journaling, taking walks) will help get you through.

Potato (1)

Eva also gives encouragement to others and shares her advice in my Facebook support group. In a recent post, she shared her positivity with the other group members in an inspirational comment:

‘… a few months back, I decided that I was going to do whatever I wanted to do, without hesitation. I was going to end the negative self-talk and the fear and just get out there and do my best. I got on an airplane, I swam underwater, I went dancing at posh night clubs, I went to a concert, I went hiking on jagged trails, all things I was either terrified to try (irrational fear that my ear would hurt or blow up or something crazy) or things that I thought would be overly difficult where I’d look like a fool. What happened? I wasn’t perfect, but I was pretty damn good and I felt proud and more encouraged each time. I haven’t stopped since and I find that the more I subject myself to it, the better I get at being in crazy, noisy, rocky places where I thought I’d never be able to function again.’

I really admire Eva’s optimism and motivation in moving forward with her life following her hearing loss. Thank you, Eva, for sharing your story.

This article was recently published by Hearing Link.

The Loneliness of a Busy Restaurant

What I have realised is that I appreciate the hearing I have left. And, I pay extra attention to my other senses, as I now rely more on these to interact with the world.

Sitting at the bar in a busy Mexican restaurant in Madrid, I realised just how lonely I was feeling.

Madrid is a great place to live and is a city full of people who enjoy eating out in the evenings. It can be difficult to get a table in a restaurant without making a booking, even on a weekday. This is how we came to be sitting at the bar. I had positioned myself so that my two friends were situated to the right of me – my ‘hearing’ side – so I had the best possibility of hearing them in this situation.

I don’t often go out during the evenings anymore, as I find restaurant noise difficult to be around, sometimes even painful. For three years I have been living with single-sided deafness and I am conscious of my hearing limitations. I knew that I was going to find it difficult to follow conversation amongst the background noise of music and people chatting. Still, I was feeling excited to be spending an evening in a nice restaurant with such a lively atmosphere and surrounded by the delicious rich aroma of Mexican food, which had enveloped us as we’d entered. We had ordered food to share, and it was going to be brought out to us slowly, one dish at a time. I was eager to start eating.

Both the restaurant and bar area were part of the same small space. As the customers consumed more food and drinks, the energy in the restaurant increased and people began to talk with exuberance; the noise levels steadily started to rise. I soon realised the extent of the communication difficulties I was going to have during this evening when, after speaking with me for a while, my friend next to me turned her body to face the other member of our group, during the course of conversation. I had been grasping at fragments of her words and sentences with determination, trying to make sense of them. I had been studying the shapes her lips were making to help give me some indication of what was being said. Now, looking at the side of her face and with no audible vocal clues, I was alone, and no longer part of the discussion.

I didn’t feel annoyed or even upset; I just felt resigned acceptance. Both members of the group were aware of my hearing difficulties. Of course, my friend was always going to need to turn her head away from me at some point. In fact, the conversation had started with her facing me. She was making sure both her companions were being addressed. But, this usually inclusive method of conversation had been complicated by my hearing loss, meaning that it was only possible for me to be involved in broken elements of the dialogue. If I had been with just one person, communication would have been much easier as I would have had the full advantage of always seeing my conversation partner’s face. Or, if we had been able to sit at a table, I could have sat opposite the third member of our group, enabling me to watch his reactions. I would have been able to study his facial expressions and follow the movement of his lips, and maybe, might even have caught some of the letter sounds and words he was saying.

In accepting my situation and realising my inability to successfully follow the conversation, my experience in the restaurant became one based on sights, smells and tastes. I concentrated on these senses which helped to divert my attention from the noise of raised voices. I noticed the decoration of the restaurant. I focussed on the black circular dish behind the bar, full of rock salt, with a peak in the middle, specially designed for coating salt to the rim of a margarita glass. I became lost in my observations. I watched as the bartender meticulously prepared drinks with concentration and care, rubbing lime around the rim of the glass and dipping it elegantly into the salt, so as to form an even rim of crystals. I observed the way he mixed cocktails, vigorously shaking a cocktail shaker, and then bending down to examine each drink carefully before sending them to customers. I noticed the small group of people working in the kitchen at the end of the bar, milling around continuously, some wearing white chef hats. I turned around to look at the groups of people sitting at the tables; I observed them talk animatedly to each other. The atmosphere in this small space was intimate, yet lively. Peoples’ faces looked happy and relaxed. I focused on the taste of the food. I really tasted it, trying to figure out the main ingredients.

When you lose a sense or part of one, there is a theory that your other senses are heightened. I’m not sure if this is the case. What I have realised is that I appreciate the hearing I have left. And, I pay extra attention to my other senses, as I now rely more on these to interact with the world.

I was happy to be out having a meal in a fantastic restaurant. Following my hearing loss, it had originally taken time for me to get to a stage of dealing with noise sensitivity issues to even be able to enter a busy place like this. Yet, this experience, for me, wasn’t one centred around social interaction and conversation, as it seemed to be for the other diners. It was an evening of observation, of noticing delicious aromas of freshly prepared cuisine, and of moments really appreciating the taste of the dishes. I enjoyed the atmosphere and the food, yet without the ability to converse effectively, I felt like I had experienced a lot of it alone.

This article was recently published by Hearing link.

Donations

Please help to fuel my writing by buying me a cup of tea 🙂

$5.00