DPA Executive Committee member Kathie Buffery continues our series of articles celebrating UK Disability History Month with a candid account of her lived experience as a deaf person and attitudes towards hearing loss
I think there are a few things we take for granted in life: mobility, sight and hearing. Learning to adapt without one of these can be a long process, and sometimes to understand the journey it’s imperative you speak to someone with lived experience. Often, we presume what a person with a disability or additional needs requires without asking them.
I know you haven’t asked me about my journey, but as it’s Disability History month I thought I’d give you a perspective from a person with substantial hearing loss. So here goes nothing!
Hi, I’m Kathie, I’m a committee member with the Disabled Police Association (DPA) and I am deaf. The little ‘d’ is important, and I’ll explain why. Medically Deaf (with a capital ‘D’) refers to patients who primarily use sign language, identify with Deaf culture and the Deaf community. In contrast, deaf with a small ‘d’ refers to those who primarily use the English language and may have lost their hearing later in life. This definition is important to the Deaf community.
Right, so now it’s time to bore you with my story. I wasn’t diagnosed as having a severe hearing loss until I was 23. I had just moved to Croydon for work, and I was told I needed hearing aids. After numerous therapy sessions I realised I was taking the loss on the chin – a lot of the group were really struggling with their sensory loss. This was my first step in realising the grief someone goes through when they are diagnosed. A week before I had been successful in my application on what was then the fast-track scheme for the Metropolitan Police at Hendon. Upon the diagnosis of my severe hearing loss, I knew my policing career had finished before it had even started.
For years I moved between jobs in hospitality as a manager, until I finally moved back to Manchester – where, after a brief stint in a call centre (yes I know!), I started my career in policing as a member of police staff.
My experience after being diagnosed is mine and unique to me, however from speaking to numerous people over my 20 years in policing, theirs are very similar. In short, hearing loss is not understood.
So, back to my loss. I have a bi-aural (affecting both ears) profound hearing loss as of seven years ago. This meant I had 15% hearing in one ear and 3% in the other. Life with hearing aids at this stage was pointless – when listening to anything it sounded like an alien under water. Hearing aids basically make everything louder and in my case it just made the alien louder with less clarity. So, I qualified for a cochlear implant. Having an implant fitted should fix my hearing and magically make me hear, shouldn’t it… Nope, not the case. After several tests and counselling sessions, as well as hearing tests (just to make sure my hearing hadn’t come back) I was scheduled for my implant surgery.
Surgery was completed with complexities (I can’t do anything normally) and I started the long journey to retrain my brain. Recovery from an implant is exhausting and slow: people sound like Mickey Mouse, your brain now has the capacity of a baby, you fall asleep at a whim and have ‘nana naps’ for the next few weeks. In total my recovery took nine weeks, with a nine-week reintegration to work. Every time I have my implant remapped, the process starts again for two weeks.
When living with a hearing loss, there are certain things you may not be able to hear, dependant on your range of loss. With mine even with my implant fitted, I have no sense of direction. I can’t hear traffic and I’m generally a danger to myself when crossing the street. I can’t hear on the phone normally and need to be able to stream from my phone to my implant, and even then I cannot hear properly and may not be able to decipher words. Why is this? Well, I rely on seeing someone, to be able to read lips and body language to decipher what has been said. I have a sensory processing disorder so I struggle to put words and sentences together, and in general my brain is running about five to 10 seconds behind. So, you can imagine how isolating Covid and the usage of masks was.
Having a hearing loss is exhausting, as with an implant I can’t filter out any unwanted noise that a hearing person would be able to. I basically hear everything, with increased clarity and volume, leading me to being exhausted. You will often see me with my implant on my desk having a sort of hearing break. I can still hear sound; it’s just muffled and doesn’t take my energy away.
Life as a deaf person can be scary as well. Life brings challenges: for example, to hear my baby or toddler as a single parent who is deaf, I had to rely on technology. I needed the help of Adult Social Services for a vibrating pager to know if they were awake. I needed a flashing doorbell to know someone was at the door.
The biggest struggle I have is the phone. Although there is an app called Relay UK, I find it hard to use this due to lags and the fact I have very little time to use a phone at work. The main struggle I have is communicating with the NHS. You would think they are the best due to the nature of the work, but they still have no concept that people who have additional needs may not be able to communicate on the phone. In the days of advanced technology, why do companies/organisations need to speak to people?
My work in policing has accelerated considerably from three years ago. I am working with an amazing team who understand my disability, but my work is not yet done, there is still a massive stigma in policing regarding hearing loss. The office ‘banter’ is still there which ultimately, as we have heard time and time again, it is no longer funny. Policing will change with the work I am doing with the wider team and partners; staff and officers are becoming more vulnerable to losing their hearing as our policing function changes. But this can and will be battled by finding new technology to help.
It has taken me a long time to come to terms with my hearing loss. I’m not your average deaf person and I will always educate people on what makes my life easier. Hearing loss is not seen as a disability by many who have it, this is why the culture is difficult to understand.
If you come away with one point from this blog, let it be this: if you don’t understand what or why someone needs something – ask, don’t presume. Ask your colleagues how you can help them and what is best for them. ∎
For more information on deafness, visit signhealth.org.uk
