A Tip for Deafies at Christmas

Christmas eh? The time of year when it’s all things chocolate and cakes and goodies and… we all know. It’s also the time of year when all the shops seem to play a constant jingle jangle of inane tunes, on a loop, designed to send their own staff bonkers. They must all go home in the evening, totally brain-dead. Even the streets are full of it sometimes. Drives me postal.

I’m not all Grumy Grammy, not really. I like a wee Santa with the best of them. I wave to the elves as I pass if I see them. I’m just happy to even see them nowadays as they were never here in the Netherlands before!

I have a secret though. One that helps me get through the weeks of Sinterklaas and his (lately) soot-covered helpers, and mind-numbing muzak that leads up to even worse around Christmas with things the Dutch just don’t do terribly well. Partly because they’re not interested in Santa Claus and it’s all just commercial anyway. This trick is one I can highly recommend to any CI wearer, but even I know it puts me right on the naughty list.

I turn off my CI and my hearing aid.

I do! I enjoy perfect peace as I stumble through the crowds, laden with too much food (a lot of it sugar for making inedible sweets!) and probably more unwanted gifts (although I’ve cut down on that). I switch on again temporarily to briefly converse with check-out ladies, or anyone I might ask something, but otherwise… bliss. If I walk past you in the street with a slight smile on my face, I’m not enjoying the ‘ambiance’ (there is none), I’m enjoying the peace and quiet. It’s a secret because no one knows. How would they?

Back home, or actually, as soon as I’m off the bus and heading to my own door, I’m all switched on. I love hearing what my CI has brought back to me! I hear the geese flying overhead. I hear ducks on the canal. I hear a bike behind me! I hear a shout as a neighbour waves… All things I can’t do if I’m switched off and definitely couldn’t do before I got my implant.

At home I hear my own music - or more accurately, music he puts on as I generally forget, but it’s stuff we like and not eardrum-bursting nonsense with a lot of bells or old pop songs vaguely to do with Christmas (Slade?! Cliff?!) and no Christmas Carols either to be honest. And no Bing Crosby. We play our own humbug!

I’ll hear the boys squeal at their ‘zak van Sinterklaas’ on the 5^th of December (it will never work for me!) and I’ll hear them laughing *from the other room* when they’re trying their new games. They’re big now so we don’t sing ‘Sinterklaas liedjes’ any more. We did all that when they were small and I heard it then. It was lovely because I’d thought I never would.

I’ll hear glasses clink and, maybe even hear, without trouble, a couple of silly Sinterklaas rhymes (seriously, it’ll never work for me). I’ll hear the questions from the kitchen like ‘want a cuppa?’ without it having to be repeated. I’ll hear the conversations at the table. I’ll hear responses and I’ll answer appropriately… mostly.

When Christmas comes, I’ll hear the oven beep when the timer goes to tell me my turkey is done. I’;; hear things bubbling in pans and sizzling on a hotplate. I hear the plates rattling into or out of the dishwasher (I honestly never knew that could be quite so loud). I can comfortably hear my TV showing whichever mind-numbing nonsense I inflict upon myself over this whole period (see, not entirely Grumpy Grammy - I do indulge). It used to be hard to follow stuff - not any more.

When it’s New Year’s Eve, I’ll actually hear the cork pop on our bottle of champers. I never knew the fireworks were as loud as they are but Grumpy Grammy has always disliked them - they’re just ten times louder now. How do hearing people suffer that?! No wonder the dog used to protest. I can hear the swishy and fizzy, sparkly ones now too though - and from a distance, I like those. I’m not crazy about the bangs and veritable bombs that go off, but I do listen. I don’t switch off for those, as I’m in company, but it lasts way too long. To be honest, I probably would switch off if I was alone.

So my secret is out. It’s a great little treat actually. Rather ironic that after years of not hearing well (or at all) to have the choice now of muting things when required (or just wanted). I know it’s ‘bad’ because it rather defeats the purpose of regaining hearing, but all of you out there with perfect hearing, you use headphones to listen to things you want to and not be subjected to things you don’t. I think? So this is ‘our’ equally useful trick to save our brains from overload.

I hear great at very, very loud, rock concerts, so it’s not noise so much as *unwanted* noise. I also discovered that it’s a great way not to have to hear (or react to) anything when you’re being moaned at. Win win!

Mostly just muzak though J