Miss-Delectable
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CEN News : Features : 'For years, I refused to admit I was going deaf'
STUCK in a traffic jam, Jean Lawrence glanced up at her rear view mirror - and the strangest thing happened. "I heard the woman in the car behind me talking," says the 60-year-old, with a laugh.
"I knew I couldn't have; it was impossible. That's when I realised I'd lip read what she said - and my brain had added the sound. So what people had been telling me was right: I was losing my hearing. "For a long time I'd said 'No, no, that's not happening to me'. But that day, in the car, was the moment of truth."
After developing tinnitus (a ringing in the ears) in her 30s, Jean was diagnosed with Meniere's Disease. A disorder of the inner ear, the symptoms are different for everyone. For Jean, they included bouts of terrible dizziness which, at worst, left her "unable to move and throwing up constantly". And then, little by little, she started to lose her hearing.
Despite two operations, which helped short-term by relieving pressure in the inner ear, Jean was eventually forced to admit she'd grown profoundly deaf. At that point, she also had to quit work.
"Life was very low," says Jean, who lives in Ely. "I'd been fighting it for years, so to have to admit it - to admit my hearing had gone beyond reasonable use, was awful.
"I became really depressed, I'll admit that. The bottom had fallen out of my world. I'd spent so much time and energy trying to just achieve the norm; it was horrible having to admit I couldn't keep going. And I loved my job; giving it up was hard. I think anyone would say the same."
Spending more and more time at home, alone, Jean found her horizons shrinking fast. A flashing light system was set up to alert her to the doorbell and phone. But, because of the Meniere's, Jean couldn't always see them.
"Things can appear suddenly to move," she explains. "So I wasn't sure if I'd seen a flash or not."
"Something as simple as getting a routine boiler service became a real chore," continues Jean. "It got to the point where I'd sit on the bottom step of the stairs and just wait for the chap to arrive, so I knew I wouldn't miss him. And, if you aren't even comfortable and confident in your own home, you don't want to go out…" Then, while flicking though a magazine, Jean's daughter came across an article about Hearing Dogs for Deaf People - a charity which trains companion dogs for people with severe hearing loss. The dogs, usually rescued, are trained to alert their owners to a plethora of different sounds, from everyday noises like the doorbell to emergency sounds such as a fire alarm.
Initially reluctant to follow it up, Jean admits carrying the clipping around in her handbag for months. "It felt like the final straw," she explains. "Then I realised I wasn't coping without their help either, so I decided to write them a letter..."
Her application approved, Jean was invited to Hearing Dogs HQ to meet Scampi - a terrier rescued from the Blue Cross. "It wasn't love at first sight," admits Jean. "I was far too nervous for that. But then they asked if I'd like to take him for a walk and that was it - we were two country bumpkins together." The match made, the team at Hearing Dogs set about training Scampi, for a full four months, to support Jean both in and outside her home. Using a mock house, laid out like Jean's, they taught him (using a reward system) how to lead her to eight different noises, including the ring of her text phone.
"The trainers came to the house and recorded various sounds; they even measured the height of our bed, so they could make sure Scampi would be able to jump on to it to wake me in the morning, or alert me to an emergency at night," explains Jean.
And then, after a week-long handover, Scampi moved in with Jean and her husband Gerry - and her life was changed forever. "I've had pet dogs before," says Jean. "I'm a big softy; I love animals.
"I was always the one who cried when the kids' gerbils had to be put to sleep… But I've never, ever felt as close a bond with an animal as I do with him. "In a way, he almost forms a physical barrier between me and the rest of the world: he's my shield."
Sitting with Scampi curled up on her lap, fondly scratching his head, it's clear Jean adores her dog - and the feeling is very much mutual. "Having a hearing dog opens up the world again," she explains. "Scampi has made so many things possible for me.
"My dad got cancer and he wanted to come home, to his own home, in the last weeks of his life. Because of Scampi, I was able to go and look after him: he alerts me to noises in other places, by patting me with his paw, just like he does at home.
"If it wasn't for Scampi, Dad would probably have had to go into a home or stay in hospital; as it was, he was in his own house up until the last few days."
Now a grandmother, Jean is also able to look after her daughter's children thanks to Scampi: when they were tiny babies, he was trained to alert her to the sound of crying (using a recording of a neighbour's child). A trainer from Hearing Dogs visits at regular intervals, and can arrange for a dog's skills to be updated as and when their owner's life alters.
When Jean and Scampi go out, he wears a special maroon-coloured coat to let people know he's a hearing dog - and thus that his owner is deaf. To begin with, that's exactly what Jean didn't want. After struggling to come to terms with her hearing loss, she admits feeling a bit self-conscious.
"In a way, having what I least wanted has become something very helpful," she adds. "We went on holiday to the Isle of Man this year and, while I was on the deck, it was reassuring to know the people around me were aware of my deafness - if any kind of emergency had arisen, they would have known to help me."
Ironically, Gerry has lost some of his hearing too and, although he's not trained to alert him, Scampi is a help. "Gerry had hearing loss when I first met him, and my hearing was really good," says Jean. "It's one of life's little quirks, I suppose."
Jean says Scampi, who's just turned 12, has transformed her life in both practical and emotional terms. "Laughter, music, birdsong - those are what we call the comfort noises," she explains. "When people lose their hearing, it's often those sounds which go first, as many of them are high pitched. Having Scampi around gives me a huge amount of comfort - and confidence."
"It's like having my ears, but in a detached form," adds Jean, with a laugh. "We come as a unit, Scampi and I; we're a team."
STUCK in a traffic jam, Jean Lawrence glanced up at her rear view mirror - and the strangest thing happened. "I heard the woman in the car behind me talking," says the 60-year-old, with a laugh.
"I knew I couldn't have; it was impossible. That's when I realised I'd lip read what she said - and my brain had added the sound. So what people had been telling me was right: I was losing my hearing. "For a long time I'd said 'No, no, that's not happening to me'. But that day, in the car, was the moment of truth."
After developing tinnitus (a ringing in the ears) in her 30s, Jean was diagnosed with Meniere's Disease. A disorder of the inner ear, the symptoms are different for everyone. For Jean, they included bouts of terrible dizziness which, at worst, left her "unable to move and throwing up constantly". And then, little by little, she started to lose her hearing.
Despite two operations, which helped short-term by relieving pressure in the inner ear, Jean was eventually forced to admit she'd grown profoundly deaf. At that point, she also had to quit work.
"Life was very low," says Jean, who lives in Ely. "I'd been fighting it for years, so to have to admit it - to admit my hearing had gone beyond reasonable use, was awful.
"I became really depressed, I'll admit that. The bottom had fallen out of my world. I'd spent so much time and energy trying to just achieve the norm; it was horrible having to admit I couldn't keep going. And I loved my job; giving it up was hard. I think anyone would say the same."
Spending more and more time at home, alone, Jean found her horizons shrinking fast. A flashing light system was set up to alert her to the doorbell and phone. But, because of the Meniere's, Jean couldn't always see them.
"Things can appear suddenly to move," she explains. "So I wasn't sure if I'd seen a flash or not."
"Something as simple as getting a routine boiler service became a real chore," continues Jean. "It got to the point where I'd sit on the bottom step of the stairs and just wait for the chap to arrive, so I knew I wouldn't miss him. And, if you aren't even comfortable and confident in your own home, you don't want to go out…" Then, while flicking though a magazine, Jean's daughter came across an article about Hearing Dogs for Deaf People - a charity which trains companion dogs for people with severe hearing loss. The dogs, usually rescued, are trained to alert their owners to a plethora of different sounds, from everyday noises like the doorbell to emergency sounds such as a fire alarm.
Initially reluctant to follow it up, Jean admits carrying the clipping around in her handbag for months. "It felt like the final straw," she explains. "Then I realised I wasn't coping without their help either, so I decided to write them a letter..."
Her application approved, Jean was invited to Hearing Dogs HQ to meet Scampi - a terrier rescued from the Blue Cross. "It wasn't love at first sight," admits Jean. "I was far too nervous for that. But then they asked if I'd like to take him for a walk and that was it - we were two country bumpkins together." The match made, the team at Hearing Dogs set about training Scampi, for a full four months, to support Jean both in and outside her home. Using a mock house, laid out like Jean's, they taught him (using a reward system) how to lead her to eight different noises, including the ring of her text phone.
"The trainers came to the house and recorded various sounds; they even measured the height of our bed, so they could make sure Scampi would be able to jump on to it to wake me in the morning, or alert me to an emergency at night," explains Jean.
And then, after a week-long handover, Scampi moved in with Jean and her husband Gerry - and her life was changed forever. "I've had pet dogs before," says Jean. "I'm a big softy; I love animals.
"I was always the one who cried when the kids' gerbils had to be put to sleep… But I've never, ever felt as close a bond with an animal as I do with him. "In a way, he almost forms a physical barrier between me and the rest of the world: he's my shield."
Sitting with Scampi curled up on her lap, fondly scratching his head, it's clear Jean adores her dog - and the feeling is very much mutual. "Having a hearing dog opens up the world again," she explains. "Scampi has made so many things possible for me.
"My dad got cancer and he wanted to come home, to his own home, in the last weeks of his life. Because of Scampi, I was able to go and look after him: he alerts me to noises in other places, by patting me with his paw, just like he does at home.
"If it wasn't for Scampi, Dad would probably have had to go into a home or stay in hospital; as it was, he was in his own house up until the last few days."
Now a grandmother, Jean is also able to look after her daughter's children thanks to Scampi: when they were tiny babies, he was trained to alert her to the sound of crying (using a recording of a neighbour's child). A trainer from Hearing Dogs visits at regular intervals, and can arrange for a dog's skills to be updated as and when their owner's life alters.
When Jean and Scampi go out, he wears a special maroon-coloured coat to let people know he's a hearing dog - and thus that his owner is deaf. To begin with, that's exactly what Jean didn't want. After struggling to come to terms with her hearing loss, she admits feeling a bit self-conscious.
"In a way, having what I least wanted has become something very helpful," she adds. "We went on holiday to the Isle of Man this year and, while I was on the deck, it was reassuring to know the people around me were aware of my deafness - if any kind of emergency had arisen, they would have known to help me."
Ironically, Gerry has lost some of his hearing too and, although he's not trained to alert him, Scampi is a help. "Gerry had hearing loss when I first met him, and my hearing was really good," says Jean. "It's one of life's little quirks, I suppose."
Jean says Scampi, who's just turned 12, has transformed her life in both practical and emotional terms. "Laughter, music, birdsong - those are what we call the comfort noises," she explains. "When people lose their hearing, it's often those sounds which go first, as many of them are high pitched. Having Scampi around gives me a huge amount of comfort - and confidence."
"It's like having my ears, but in a detached form," adds Jean, with a laugh. "We come as a unit, Scampi and I; we're a team."