If you're listening?

I wanted to write about something personal today.

If you know me in person - and know me well - you will know I am fully deaf in my right ear.

I am either genetically half deaf or it's as a result of having mumps as a baby; doctors had no way of knowing when I was diagnosed as a kid. The proper term is unilateral hearing, because 'half deaf' is suggestive of 'half hearing', which really isn't the same thing.

My hearing doesn't affect my speech. It does affect my balance, meaning I walk like Bambi on ice when walking in heels, and it also means I can't ride a bike (a life-long annoyance as I would have loved a Pashley). It also means I have little to no directional hearing, so if you are behind me and call my name - I won't have a clue where you are. If I smile and nod, or say "Yeah!" to an open question, you'll know.

I lip read almost constantly. In busy places I need to sit by a wall to use it as a sounding board to bounce your voice. I have a habit of relentlessly tucking my hair behind my ears. I will always walk on your right. I zone out a lot of the time; simply because I have stopped listening. Actively concentrating is exhausting. I have awful tinnitus, probably from years of standing at the front at gigs as a teenager.

What has this got to do with writing? Not a lot, to be honest.
I just wanted to share something to clear up any misconceptions about deafness.

1) It isn't funny. No disability is funny. Saying "What?" or "Pardon?" to someone after they have told you they have partial hearing is about as funny as making rude gestures at someone who is partially blind.

2) Shouting really doesn't help. Just enunciate properly.

3) Active listening has lead me into different career paths. As a journalist, I had to constantly listen for the main point. As a retail manager, I listen to my staff, my customers and people passing outside. It also makes me an excellent eavesdropper.

4) Extremely busy environments are a nightmare. Crowds, pubs, the underground. Trying to pinpoint the voice of who I'm speaking to while trying to ignore everything else is really hard.

5) You don't instantly get another freakishly strong sense when one is weaker - I have normal vision and I don't have a wolf-like sense of smell. People with partial senses are not the X-Men.

6) It's an invisible disability. I'm not registered disabled as there is no point; it doesn't affect my life to the extent of it being noticeable.

The next time someone tells you they are deaf, or have partial hearing, don't say "What?" with a grin. You don't have to say anything at all. Just smile and nod. "Yeah!"