This article appeared in the March/April 2001 issue of Hearing Loss: The Journal of Self Help for Hard of Hearing People.

What’s On Your Mind? By Michael A. Harvey

Help functioning in social situations.

 Dear Dr. Harvey:

 I’m in my 60s, married, and have two grown children. Although I’ve parachuted from airplanes in the war while in the Air Force and have had other so-called challenges in my life, nothing can compare to losing my hearing! My wife says I haven’t adjusted to it yet (I suppose she’s right). She loves to socialize but it’s impossible for me to function in social settings. What do I do? How does one “adjust” to essentially being shut off from the world? Thank you for any advice you can give.

 Sincerely,

B.H., Phoenix, Arizona

 Dear B.H.:

 I came across a relevant piece of advice given by Mary Catherine Bateson, a cultural anthropologist:

 “Much of coping with discontinuity has to do with discovering threads of continuity. You cannot adjust to change unless you can recognize some analogy between your old situation and your new situation. … If you can recognize a problem that you’ve solved before, in however a different guise, you have a much greater chance of solving that problem in a new situation.”

 Is this pertinent to acquired hearing loss? I posed that question to Joe, a 53-year old man whose level of hearing had slowly deteriorated to an over 80 decibel, bilateral loss.

“Becoming almost deaf was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before!” he responded. “But a voice inside of me kept saying, ‘There must have been something you learned in the first five decades of your life that can help you.’”

It was as if Joe had read Bateson’s advice to “discover threads of continuity.” After much shifting through his many files of memories, we revisited when he first learned to ski. “It was absolutely terrifying,” he recalled. “Just looking down that huge mountain which I was supposed to go down!”

“And how did you do it?” I asked.

“Well, at first I just stood there and was going to chicken out. But I didn’t want to disappoint my friends. So I took a deep breath, prayed, and focused only on the immediate, shorter path; then I went down that mountain very slowly, trail marker by trail marker.”

Joe and I then discussed the “huge mountain” of hearing loss: in his case, succumbing to loneliness. He probably would have agreed with you that it shut him off from the world. And his wife also pleaded with him to attend social gatherings. But, like you, when he finally gave in, he was miserable. In his words, “I tried to be the life of the party, but it was too noisy.” (Like many people who are hard of hearing in such dreadful acoustic situations, he couldn’t understand anyone.) The other option of staying home disappointed his wife and caused him more loneliness. A catch-22 that I suspect you know too well.

I asked Joe a version of a question that I would ask you: “I wonder how many trail markers there are between you being the life of the party and staying home? Like you did before, if you break it up (i.e., a ski slope or attending parties) into these “shorter sprints,” it may not seem so impossible.”

My intent was to show Joe that he didn’t have to conquer instantaneously his new “mountain” (adjustment to hearing loss); he could recognize that he had already solved a similar problem before. Later that week, he metaphorically began skiing down to the first trail marker; he showed up at a party exactly when it was called for (when there were only a few people) and then made up an excuse to leave when he felt uncomfortable. It was the first of what would be many trail markers (to be described in another column).

But here, let us note an important lesson, as taught by Joe and Bateson. Joe had forged a vital connection between how he had once overcome a previous seemingly impossible situation and how he could now, once again, overcome a new situation –-this time, adjusting to hearing loss.

So B.H., I would ask this of you: How did you learn to finally jump out of a plane and land safely in warfare? Certainly, you learned this complex skill in incremental steps (never mind getting the nerve to do it). You divided the once seemingly impossible challenge into “trail markers.” And you can transfer the skills that you used for your previous accomplishment to that of hearing loss.

Now, let me be clear; I am NOT suggesting that you’ll adjust to your hearing loss by skiing, parachuting more, having more kids, joining the Marines, etc. Rather, the principle here is to unearth and excavate those seemingly impossible situations and challenges that you had already successfully overcome; and then to discover, in Bateson’s words, those “vital threads of continuity.”

I invite readers to submit your stories of how previous triumphs may have helped you adjust to hearing loss.

 
Michael A. Harvey, Ph.D., is a noted author and clinical psychologist whose specialty is psychotherapy for persons with hearing loss. He regularly lectures both nationally and internationally, including at several SHHH Conventions over the past 20 years. In addition to a private practice in Framingham, Massachusetts, he holds adjunct faculty positions at Boston University; Pennsylvania College of Optometry, School of Audiology; and previously at Gallaudet University. His latest book is titled The Odyssey of Hearing Loss: Tales of Triumph, published by Dawn Sign Press and available from the SHHH Publications Catalog. His fourth book -- Family Narratives of Hearing Loss: The Transformative Power of Dialogue -- is due out this year.

We welcome your questions about psychological issues of hearing loss for use in this column. Please send them to “What’s On Your Mind?”, 7910 Woodmont Avenue, Suite 1200, Bethesda, MD 20814. Or e-mail them directly to Dr. Harvey through his website at www.Michaelharvey-phd.com.

Last Update: 07/13/04