tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post2694225095587796043..comments2023-09-05T05:40:23.441-07:00Comments on Clarity Now: My Cochlear Implant Journey: Monday Misunderstanding 3: We Try to Hide Our DisabilitiesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06328698007092036108noreply@blogger.comBlogger7125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-37059058879766012682013-04-30T18:12:00.757-07:002013-04-30T18:12:00.757-07:00Thank you Mike. This is beautiful, and it DID spe...Thank you Mike. This is beautiful, and it DID speak to me. I am interested in reading your book. Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06328698007092036108noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-32490889309265217672013-04-30T18:10:40.787-07:002013-04-30T18:10:40.787-07:00Allow me to clarify, Barbara. I agree people ofte...Allow me to clarify, Barbara. I agree people often see things as bigger deals than they actually are, but regarding not being fascinating... not so much. YOU ARE. Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06328698007092036108noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-88792213292164583212013-04-30T18:07:50.779-07:002013-04-30T18:07:50.779-07:00Thanks Barbara. I like your "I'm not as ...Thanks Barbara. I like your "I'm not as fascinating as I think I am" comment, and my first reaction is to laugh, politely agree, and to point out that parts of our appearances are usually not as magnified as we think they are. Then there's another part of me that KNOWS we see the differences in others, both attractive and not-so-much. I guess I've placed my processor in the "not-so-much" category, but it's an ongoing acceptance journey. Even looking at the picture of me above, I search for the beauty and struggle. It's a blob. A brown blob with a wire. But maybe as the blob brings me greater hearing success, my perspective will change.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06328698007092036108noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-23408811786700101602013-04-30T17:11:19.648-07:002013-04-30T17:11:19.648-07:00Thank you for your honesty, Teresa. I had guilt a...Thank you for your honesty, Teresa. I had guilt and shame admitting my truth to others, feeling I was less of an advocate than those who wear their processors with such gusto! <br /><br />I received this comment on Facebook and it comforted me: "This is a journey....we all arrive at the destination in our own time." <br /><br />Maybe one day I'll be an old lady with CIs adorned with birds and ribbons, sequins and polka dots. But for now, it's not who I am. And that's okay.Anonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/06328698007092036108noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-27975088682385194752013-04-30T16:55:46.611-07:002013-04-30T16:55:46.611-07:00Dear Pam, I think you should give yourself permiss...Dear Pam, I think you should give yourself permission to feel whatever you're feeling about the appearance of a cochlear implant. It's a profound change to your body, and it takes time to process. For a year or so after I got my implant I wore a peace symbol on the headpiece -- both as a political statement (it was during the second Iraq war) and as a way of telling myself that I was giving other people permission to look at it. So, don't feel embarrassed about feeling embarrassed, if you see what I mean. I'm a guy and it was an issue for me. I worked it through in my book "Rebuilt" - can I quote it here? I think it'll speak to you. In this scene I'm in a nursery school for the deaf, watching the kids and speaking to one little girl and her mother. <br /><br />“It’s polite to shake hands,” I said, helplessly. Grinning back.<br /><br />That got me nowhere. She was hearing me fine. She was just being four. So I turned my attention back to the mom. “You know,” I said slowly, “this is a funny thing to say, but the headpiece looks adorable on her.”<br /><br />And it did. Her blond hair was tied back tightly in a ponytail, so the beige wagon-wheel headpiece of her Nucleus 24 implant was as obvious as a barrette or a bow. But it set off the strands of her hair, circle against straightedge, and the colors harmonized perfectly. The very strangeness of cyborg bodies reveals the human nobility of working with the given, remaking, making anew. In his poem _Pied Beauty_ Gerard Manley Hopkins showed that creatures “counter, original, spare, strange” could also be beautiful. This little girl’s headpiece would have given me the willies, once. But now – fifty thousand dollars’ worth of technology, and it looked _cute_ on her. (p. 125)<br /><br />Mike<br />Michaelhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/10397002790874437015noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-7203187831767740202013-04-30T12:06:17.662-07:002013-04-30T12:06:17.662-07:00I had never worn hearing aids prior to my implant ...I had never worn hearing aids prior to my implant either. Leading up to my activation I told myself I didn't care if the processor showed or not. My hair did cover the processor so it wasn't an issue. Then the hair dresser cut my hair shorter and shorter. And one of my first thoughts was, "Oh! will my processor show?" Guess I did care after all. However, my short cut is the best I've ever had so I've gotten used to the potential for other to notice it. I'm learning that I'm not as fascinating as I think I am (ha, ha). Haven't gotten any comments yet.Barbarahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05476588309755063861noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4400365308579128834.post-20674349834308051962013-04-30T07:33:13.251-07:002013-04-30T07:33:13.251-07:00Pam, first of all, you are BEAUTIFUL! Secondly, I...Pam, first of all, you are BEAUTIFUL! Secondly, I always try to hide my processor and I can not WAIT until Cochlear manufactures a smaller processor (not only because it will be easier to hide, but also because it will be easier to wear-mine still causes physical pain on a daily basis). This whole thing might be a woman thing...I still can't bring myself to wear my hair up. Maybe one of these days!Teresa Martensnoreply@blogger.com