Day after Boxing Day, busy Christmas household
I knock gently on Hayley’s door and peer round to see her sitting up in bed, duvet pulled up to her chin, headphones on.
“Thanks Mum.” She smiles gratefully, taking the hot water bottle and paracetamol I give her.
She’s not ill, just suffering from a headache and taking some time out away from the madness.
If there’s one thing Hayley loves it’s Christmas. She’s very sociable, loves parties, adores her little nephew and young cousins and is addicted to chocolate – what’s not to love!
But over the years I’ve realised it’s not the easiest time for her, as deafness brings extra challenges when there’s so much going on and an onslaught of guests.
There’s the obvious increase in chaotic noise levels, with everyone chattering at once, making it hard for Hayley to follow. She often ends up with a headache from her hearing aids amplifying all the extra noise.
And many of the visitors are people we don’t see too often so they are not deaf aware, and this adds to stress and sense of exclusion for Hayley when she can’t easily join in.
One likely flashpoint is the dinner table. Mealtimes with a dozen or more people crowded round, all talking over the clatter and scraping of plates is a minefield for Hayley.
As well as the din she struggles to follow the pinball nature of the conversation ricocheting around the table, as well as not being easily able to lipread because she can’t see everyone’s face.
So she often misses bits or perhaps the main point. Someone – usually me, her dad or her brothers – will stop to explain to Hayley what she’s missed. It makes for an interrupted flow of conversation, which we’re used to, but visitors don’t always understand or show patience and consideration towards her.
Hayley often ends up feeling excluded, leaving her very frustrated and giving her self-esteem a bit of a hammering, even more so when she picks up on the exasperation of some guests.
We of course want to avoid these situations, but don’t want to make a big deal of it which would embarrass Hayley and make our visitors feel they’re being lectured, so it’s a tricky balance. We just tend to drop in deaf awareness tips casually and hope guests pick up on it and follow the example of the rest of us.
These seasonal gatherings of non-deaf aware visitors are also a prime time for over use of the ‘Oh it doesn’t matter’ response when Hayley says ‘pardon?’ It is a huge insult to someone who is deaf – the phrase is banned in our house – and likely to make her blood boil.
“If it’s important enough to bother saying to everyone else, then why aren’t I important enough to bother repeating it for me?” she quite rightly used to challenge her brothers.
They’ve grown up learning why it’s important and will repeat it to others who fall foul of the rule. Hopefully other guests catch on too.
One thing’s for sure, over the years things have got easier to deal with. We know that time out for a bit of peace and quiet is a good idea for keeping Hayley’s equilibrium.
And with Hayley and her brothers maturing, and perhaps deaf awareness messages getting through to the odd guest, the extra stresses and challenges of having a deaf child are definitely easing – shame I can’t say the same about the rest of Christmas!
Please note the image is not of Hayley.