This happened about ten years ago as I was beginning to come to terms with my hearing loss.  Those who have experienced a progressive hearing loss like mine will understand.  When you grow up hearing, it sometimes takes a while to realize that you are no longer a ‘hearing’ person.  I guess part of it is we still identify with hearing culture long after we’ve lost most of our hearing.

But anyway I was just learning about self-disclosure and trying on different labels– hard-of-hearing, deaf, etc.– when I glommed onto hearing-impaired.  The nice thing about the phrase ‘hearing-impaired’ is it implies nothing about how you communicate.  It seemed perfect.  Hearing people understood the phrase way better than hard-of-hearing.  (Please bear with me here if you find the phrase offensive.  I‘m not done.)

So I was up in the mountains skiing one beautiful day.  As I got off a ski lift, I felt so healthy and full of life.  If you have ever seen the sunset reflect pink and gold against the snow, that’s the kind of day it was.   And I was at the top of a mountain looking out over beautiful snow-colored valleys in every direction. Glorious– just glorious!

At that moment, I felt so lucky it was my hearing that went bad instead of my legs.  I thought of all the wonderful things I could still do instead of what I could not do.  WOW!  I could ski!  I could hike!  I could swim!  I could ride a bike!  I could do ANYTHING!

Then it happened.  A  double- amputee whooshed by on a sit-ski.  I still laugh when I think of it.  THIS guy had no legs and he skied even better than me.

That‘s when I stopped telling people I was ‘hearing-impaired.’  Disability/impairment is all in your mind.  Many  times I’ve been told that I’m a good listener.  I think it’s because I look people in the face when they’re talking.  Go figure.

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