620 Days in the Making

It’s taken a long time to write this post—620 days to be precise. (Or, if you’re a fan of Rent, 892,800 minutes.) I lost my hearing, for good, on February 17, 2006. Before then, for the past few years, I’d experienced temporary spells where I’d lose my hearing for 12 hours or so, and then, with a dose of steroids, it would come back perfectly. This time, however, it did not come back…

For about 18 months I have been living in a world that few have ever imagined or glimpsed. It is not quite as extreme as the world of outerspace, or the world of the deep sea, although there are certainly times when it seems like I am in these worlds. It has been isolating, scary, frustrating and thought-provoking. Further, it has taught me a great deal about myself, about friends and “friends,” and about how our society treats people with disabilities. More than that, however, it has forced me to look at life in a whole new way.

Perhaps most unique is that I’ve lived most of my life—22 years of it—in the hearing world. While I had had my host of medical problems, I had never had anything which so completely affected my every day existence. I had gone to normal public schools as a child, had attended an Ivy League college, and had all the fun in the world. I knew that I would never be a Navy Pilot, nor a pitcher for the Mets—well, maybe after this season, they could use me—but these things never affected my day-to-day activities.

But the reality is, within my life, there were very few restrictions. Sometimes situations were more difficult, and I know that it was only because I put out 150% that I got through some of them. Still, though, they were do-able, somehow. They were still within the realm of possibilities.

However, this September, I was due to go off to London for graduate school. As the time came closer, I realized that it was going to be next-to-impossible to deal with certain situations while abroad; I had no choice but to throw in the towel. There came a certain point where I realized that, no matter how “winning” my attitude was, or how optimistic I wanted to be, this was just not a possibility, at least for the time being.

It was strange; it was the first time I had to tell myself no, that I cannot do something. It was plain and simple, cut and dry, this was not an option. Before this, everything had been an option, tough as it might be. As Americans, we are raised with an inherent belief that the only limits we have are those we put on ourselves. If you just put enough elbow grease into it, and will it hard enough, it will happen. This time, even with all of the elbow grease and will in the world, it just won’t.

Since this revelation, I have started to accept that I am now part of this crazy world, of those who start to lose their hearing late in life. Neither firmly planted in the deaf world, nor the hearing world, they are forced to carve a niche for themselves. In just the few months since I’ve started fully exploring this world, I have discovered mounds of both inspiration and frustration.

I hope, through this blog, to be able to share some of those experiences with the rest of the world. If you are deaf, or hard-of-hearing like me, I hope that this will serve as a source of hope, and information. If you are hearing, then I hope that this will be enlightening, as it will plumb the depths of deafness, just like Jacque Cousteau and his little submarine. So hang on, it will be a bumpy voyage, but hopefully with some breathtaking views, too.