Hi Folks, from London UK

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

“We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope.” – Martin Luther King Jr.

“Not without hope, we suffer and we mourn.” – William Wordsworth

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is full also of the overcoming of it.” – Helen Keller

Hi Folks,

I am working on a new poem, The Leaf, which I expect to complete today and publish here tomorrow. 

Meanwhile, do explore the blog archives and feel free to email me any thoughts to rogertab@aol.com with “Poetry” in the subject field. I will do my best to reply to all genuine comments; any spammers and/ or trolls will be ignored.

As regular readers well know, writing poetry is a form of creative therapy for yours truly as well as a pleasure, both equally important to me as I grow old. I was diagnosed with a form of perceptive deafness in my early 20’s and have had mobility problems since a bad fall in 2012; these, among other health issues, not least my prostate cancer, would otherwise find me in permanent freefall but for friends, poetry and word puzzles.

Now, you are never too old to discover something new about yourself. My parents were first cousins and I only recently read that the children of first cousins can be born with a cleft palate which, in turn, causes hearing problems. The muscles of the palate are important in allowing air into the middle ear, as well as allowing drainage of secretions from the middle ear; when this process is interrupted, fluid can build up in the middle ear. The channels of both my inner ears are narrow, anyway, due to surgery in the 1960’s that involved graft operations on perforated eardrums; mine was successful with the left ear, but less so with my right ear and the consultant warned me of secretion in later years, which has, in fact, been happening for a few years now. (Something else that doesn’t improve with old age!)

How much my perceptive deafness affects my hearing, for example, is affected by both the pitch of the other person's voice  and local acoustics. At school, I could not understand why I could hear the same  teacher well in one classroom and barely at all in another. Incredibly, no doctor has ever explained this to me. 

However, since there is no point in crying over spilt milk, I just try to take each day as it comes, for better or worse, hoping for the former while engaging with friends, poetry and word puzzles always helps me rise above the latter. (Yes, it works… well, more often than not!)

Take care, everyone, stay safe, keep well and let’s all do our best to stay positive even if the future is looking bleak, for now at least. Hope springs not only eternal, but invariably gets results, if not always when our need is greatest…

Love ‘n’ Hugs,

Roger

Hi folks, from London UK (again)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Hi, folks, it's me again😄

Many thanks for dropping by. No poem for you today, but I'm working on one so it should be ready for posting here tomorrow or over the weekend. To be honest, I was stuck for a theme until a nasty memory block caused me to forget how to log on to my computer. Although years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer messes with my thought processes, this is something I do every day and it left me all but demented until I remembered. I sent a frantic SOS to mind-body-spirit, pleading for a clue. Suddenly my thought processes cleared like an early morning mist, not only recalling my log-on, but suggesting a theme for a poem... addressing mind-body-spirit (yes, again!) and a title along the lines of 'SOS'  a provisional title for now, but I may yet keep it.😉

I am often asked how I cope with memory loss as I grow old, especially as I live alone; it may be predominantly associated with dementia/ Alzheimer sufferers but, believe me, it can happen to anyone. Me, I got into the habit even in my early 60's of writing notes to myself and leaving them on the kitchen table to remind me of any shopping I needed to buy or tasks I needed to set myself the next day... before I forgot. Needless to say, these notes are always left on the kitchen table so I don't forget where I put the darn things. Not an original idea, I agree, but it works well for me, so I guess it is part of my life for keeps now.😉 

Another reader, G L has asked me to say something more about my being partially deaf as he or she thinks they may have a similar problem. As regular readers will know, I have suffered with perceptive deafness since I contracted measles at the tender age of 4 years. There was no vaccination against measles available in those days, so I do urge parents to have their children vaccinated as hearing loss has made my life considerably harder than it might have been otherwise, especially during my long-ago schooldays.

I was 21 years old before my hearing loss was diagnosed and I started wearing hearing aids. A few years later I was confirmed as having perceptive deafness and the NHS here obtained special hearing aids  for me, made in Germany with perceptive deafness sufferers in mind. 

So, why did no one, including yours truly, pick up on the fact that I was partially deaf? Well, perceptive deafness is not so easily perceived because it is a 'pitch' deafness; how much I hear, for example, depends largely on the pitch of a person's voice and local acoustics as well as how clearly they speak. ( A lot of people mumble without realising it and heavy accents can be a problem too.) So, in school, I might hear the same teacher easily in one classroom but with difficulty in another because of different acoustics.  Similarly, at home, I would hear a family member ok in one room, but not in another, especially if there was also background noise from a TV or radio. My Chemistry teacher, a lovely guy, was Polish so I really struggled with his accent.

No one understood my hearing problem for years, many still don't even when I explain it to them whenever there is a misunderstanding due to my having heard incorrectly. Time and again, it would cause problems at home, especially with my father who was always accusing me of not listening to a word he said. At school, too, I was always being reprimanded for giving the wrong answer to a question because I hadn't been paying attention when, in fact, I hadn't heard the question correctly. I often used to sit at the back of classes to avoid being asked questions which meant, of course, that I would catch even less of what was being taught during the lesson!😉

Mind you, my schooldays were all the worse for my being selected by certain education powers-that-be to go to a Technical School when I have always been the least technically-minded person I know.😉

Please bear in mind that it is not only known deaf people who have a hearing problem; many, many others are partially deaf without realising it, so don't be too quick to take offence if the response you get to a question of comment isn't quite along the lines you expected. It may be that you simply need to repeat what you said, perhaps more clearly, not that the other person hasn't been paying attention or is being deliberately rude.  

Being deaf or partially deaf is, sadly, a fact of life for some of us; we don't choose it, if anything, it chooses us... as is the case with so many facts of life to which some people with good hearing do choose to turn a blind eye... or deaf ear.  

Back with a poem soon, folks, hopefully tomorrow if my day improves and inspiration doesn't desert me.😉

Take care, stay safe and do your best to nurture a positive-thinking mindset... whatever life throws at you.

Hugs,

Roger

PS I am delighted to hear that BSL (British Sign Language) is to be included among subjects taught in UK schools. Better late than never...and yes, I do feel guilty for not being familiar with it myself, but there was never a opportunity to learn it. 

See-Hear

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

I am very forgetful these days, but a young reader ‘A V’ has emailed to ask if I would repeat what I appear to have once once said on the blog about my being partially deaf; in fact, it is ‘perceptive deafness’ – to use its proper name which has been the bane of my life since I contracted measles at the age of 4 years... 72 years ago! The reader is convinced he or she has the same problem, but it has yet to be identified/ confirmed. Hopefully, this can be done much sooner than it happened for me as I was not referred to an ENT (Ear Nose & Throat) hospital until my early 20’s.

Schooldays were a nightmare. Even now, it isn’t easy to get people to grasp and remember that perceptive deafness is a pitch deafness; the pitch of a person’s voice plays an important part in just how much I catch of what of someone is saying. Acoustics are also important; in one room I might hear someone perfectly well, but in another room, with different acoustics, I would struggle to hear the same person. Accents are always a problem for me, too, especially over the phone, as a result of which I have often been accused of shades of racism if (as I often do) I need to ask someone to speak a little slower and clearer.

I have lost count of how many times operators have hung up on me whenever they feel insulted and haven’t time to listen to my explanation; saying I have perceptive deafness is rarely acceptable as most people don’t understand what that entails. Settling for explaining that I am partially deaf often helps, but not always.

At home, there were all sorts of problems as well, especially with my father who would often address me and I wouldn’t hear, so he would shout at me and send me to my room. I would not understand why he was shouting and did not believe that I hadn’t heard him, so would invariably sulk, even respond rudely for the sheer injustice of it all – which, of course, would make the situation worse. He never hit me, my father, but nor did he ever accept that I had a hearing problem, and who can blame him as no one else really understood my problem either?

Mind you, even had I been blessed with normal hearing, my father and I would not have got along, not least because I never subscribed to the stereotypical template of what makes a boy tick; he had badly wanted a girl and I was never going to compensate for that.

In my mid-20’s I was prescribed hearing aids that proved to be a great help. Later, the ENT hospital in London obtained hearing aids from Germany for me that were especially tailored to perceptive deafness. I would continue to have problems, but these were less damaging to my life in general, although I would always have a problem with large groups, and still do. While there is no point in crying over spilt milk, I’ve often had cause to regret that I cannot give the social animal that I am, by nature, its head...

I should add that, up to a point, I subconsciously lip read, so I don't always fully understand anyone wearing a  mask, so... not easy these days when it is so important to wear one in shops, on public transport and busy streets. Oh, well, c'est la vie. 😉

Oh, well, we are who we are and must make the best of that rather than hanker to be otherwise or we will never find peace of mind, let alone be happy. I continue to nurture a positive-thinking mindset and keep looking on the bright(er) side of life.

Take care everyone, please do visit the blog again soon, and feel free to explore the archives any time,

Hugs,

Roger 

SEE-HEAR

A Blur of Silence all around,
closing in on me...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

A yearning for the true sound
of bird and bee...
A Blur of Silence all around

Oh, to leap life’s merry-go-round,
for a chance to be...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

It was you that ran me to ground
persistently...
A Blur of Silence all around

It’s now, I hear the sweetest sound
within me...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

On love, my heart can now expound
well and truly...
A Blur of Silence all around,
all I sought, yet so rarely found

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002; rev. 2022.

[Note: An earlier version of this poem (a villanelle) appears as the Dedication poem ‘To Deaf and Hard of Hearing People Everywhere’ in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002]

 

 

 

Instinct, Minder-Mentor for Communication Skills

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Today’s poem first appeared on the blog in 2015.

For years, various people  - family, friends, teachers, work colleagues – would accuse me of exaggerating my hearing problem and/ or using it as an excuse for not having heard or quite understood what they are saying, the clear implication being that implying it is more likely down to my inability to concentrate or even bother to listen. I stopped trying to explain about perceptive deafness years ago; few people have either the patience or inclination to listen since they are convinced that know me better than I know myself.

The problem with perceptive deafness - for others as well as those like myself - is that our hearing is affected not only by the pitch of someone’s voice, but also by existing acoustics. I have mentioned this before, but a reader seems to have a similar problem; he or she writes: “I can hear some people quite well in a particular room or environment, but elsewhere I can hardly hear them at all. Everyone thinks I am not paying attention, at home as well as at school, but it isn’t that, honestly.” Indeed, it isn’t, and I urge this reader seek to ask their GP to refer them to an audiologist asap.

At school, I would sit at the back of some classrooms so I would be less likely to be asked questions; consequently, of course, I missed even more of the lesson for barely hearing a word. At home, my father, especially, would angrily accuse me of ignoring him time and again for the same reason. It was not much different at work at first … until the problem was finally identified by professionals; at last, I had not only an explanation, but also special hearing aids (imported from Germany) to vastly alleviate the problem.

For years, though, I honestly thought I was mentally impaired.

I have often reflected on how those inner selves that come together to create human identity are a motley crew, invariably, adapting to a variety of circumstances, performing accordingly for a variety of people in a variety of ways, depending on why we have (either consciously or subconsciously) brought them into play in the first place.

Whatever, possibly the most important lesson any of us will learn as we progress through our lives -  whoever and wherever we may be in the world, whatever our ethnicity, religion, gender or  socio-cultural agenda – is getting  to know our various selves, learn to listen and which to trust; collectively, these are often called instincts which I have heard them referred to - not inappropriately in my view - as our ‘Minders’; I get that, I really do, and always have while others may well take some convincing.

For years, I knew something was wrong with me; my instincts told me to seek help, but no one would listen until a particularly nasty case of earache caused me to see a GP who referred me to an audiology consultant; the rest, as they say, is history.

Mind you, I still need to explain my hearing impairment to some people, especially if they are softly spoken or do not speak clearly. Even as a young child, though, I discovered that I catch more of what someone is saying if he or she is facing me; without knowing it, I was lip reading. That was the easy part. Have you noticed how some people will look anywhere but directly at you when they engage you in conversation? In my case, it always has to be my fault if I misunderstand, especially now I am 70+ as they can always blame old age just as, years ago, they would blame a child’s inattentiveness. <>

There is a pub in London called The Masque Haunt. I once overheard a complete stranger comment as he looked up at the name, ‘Now, that’s life. Oh, yes, that’s life …’

This poem is a kenning.

INSTINCT, MINDER-MENTOR FOR COMMUNICATION SKILLS 

I tell people what to do

and where to go, putting them

in their place

where needs must, advise how

not to lower the eye,

but appear relaxed to all intents

and lesser purposes,

direct the semblance of a smile

to complete the illusion

I fulfil the role of showman,

 treading no boards, just dreams

(nor gently either)

inciting the coward to bold acts

likely to pass for bravery

by the less discerning observer,

appropriately applauded

by an audience with its own ideas

of entertainment…

I hunger for a share of glory,

albeit behind scenes played out

to (near) perfection

by conscience and consciousness

at centre-stage

of everyday deceptions produced 

by circumstances

and directed by those old standbys,

diplomacy and discretion

Minder-Mentor of a human condition

some call self-preservation

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015